Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
The door opened, and Bane appeared. He didn’t enter, but leaned against the doorframe. His hair looked damp, and I’d think it was from a shower, but the wifebeater he was wearing clung to his chest. There was also a sheen to his skin that I tried not to dwell on as I managed to smile at him. Keeping my eyes on his face was difficult though because he had on shorts, and I was pretty sure I’d glimpsed bare feet. I was curious. That was all.
“Enjoy the movie?” he asked.
I scrunched my nose. “It was scarier than I’d thought it would be.”
He narrowed his gaze. “It’s not gonna have you screaming in the middle of the night, is it?”
I picked up the pill bottle with my new sleep aids in it, then showed him. “Let’s hope these work.”
Bane flicked his eyes to the bottle, then stopped and went back to the framed picture on the nightstand. He looked at it for a moment, then turned his attention back to me. “I saw the video of the ultrasound,” he told me. “If you want to see it again, let me know. I have it on my phone now.”
He’d asked his mom for it. That made me feel … almost warm toward him.
“I’d like to see it tomorrow, if that’s okay,” I told him.
He nodded. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll load it to the system in the great room and show you how to watch it whenever you want.”
Delight trickled through me at the idea of being able to do that. “Really? That’s … thank you,” I replied.
He nodded his head once, then pushed off from the frame and reached for the doorknob to close the door without another word. I stood there, listening to his footsteps on the stairs until they were gone.
What had just happened? Had we just … had a pleasant conversation?
Shaking my head at the thought, I climbed into bed, hoping that small pill worked its magic.
My eyes opened, and the sunlight shone through my window. I stared at it, realizing I’d not woken up all night.
Taking a deep breath, I paused. Frowning, I inhaled again. Why did I smell fresh-cut oak, smoke, and spice? That was what Bane smelled like, and although it frustrated me, how enticing it was, I shouldn’t be smelling him.
I swung my gaze to the closed door. His tiny visit in my doorframe last night would not have left his scent clinging to the room like this. Would it? Besides, he had been sweaty. I doubted he smelled that good when he was coated in sweat. If he did, that was just an unfair advantage.
Sitting up, I looked down at my bed and studied it. My sheets weren’t a tangled mess around my legs, but almost too smooth. As if I hadn’t moved all night long. Normally, I threw a leg out or kicked some off. This appeared untouched.
Bane’s scent was still surrounding me. Maybe it was a pregnancy thing. I was concocting a smell I liked in my memory. That would really suck if that was the case. If my subconscious was going to choose scents, then I’d like another one, please. Any other one. Just not Bane’s.
Shaking that thought away, I stood up. This must be some weird aftereffect of the sleep aid. With a quick peek at my baby boy on the bedside table, I smiled, then headed over to decide on something to wear.
I hadn’t discussed with Bane what I would do during the days. While I lived here, I couldn’t just lie around like a diva. There were five men in this house, so there had to be plenty of dirty laundry. Everything was always so clean; I didn’t know who was doing that, but I’d find out.
Maybe I could find a job. I didn’t know how far away they were from town. Getting there and back would be an issue, unless one of them had a bike. Mine had been left at Nicco’s apartment. I stilled, closed my eyes, and pushed that memory back, refusing to start thinking about all of that again. So far, today had started out good. I’d slept all night. Bane hadn’t been forced to come wake me up and sleep on the floor. No thinking about the bad. I had to keep from stressing and worrying. My attitude affected the baby. I’d read that in the book Dr. Stella had given me.
That reminded me. It had examples of meals I should be eating to get all the right things for the baby. I’d not been doing a good job of that, and today, I was going to make an effort to do it correctly. I wondered who did their grocery shopping. I could do that for them.
Grabbing a pair of black linen shorts, a sleeveless white top with black piping, my white bra, and a pair of new black satin-and-lace panties, I headed for the bathroom to get a shower. I intended to get myself together today. Focus on my pregnancy. The other things—the stuff that hurt, Crosby’s death, the family that didn’t want me—that was all off-limits in my head.