Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Oh, right. I know how we got here: Me...Because I’m a bastard who fell for a woman I’m not supposed to have.
“Happy Father-To-Be Day.” Ellie hands me a square box that’s been giftwrapped in silver paper. I look at the box for several seconds, wondering what the hell she’s talking about, until it hits me—it’s Father’s Day. And I’m an expectant father. And then I feel like shit because when it was Mother’s Day, I didn’t acknowledge that Ellie was an expectant mother. In my defense, however, I had only just found out she was pregnant and wasn’t in the mindset to think about things like that. I had wished my mom and Sienna a Happy Mother’s Day—after Micah reminded me—and avoided everyone else, lost in my own head.
I take the gift from her and unwrap it. Inside is a black book. When I open it, I find a couple of sonogram pictures with the dates written underneath it. The rest of the pages are empty.
“It’s a baby book,” Ellie says. “Women tend to have cuter ones, but I figured black was more your style. You can add to it as the baby grows and then more after our son is born. I got one for Micah when they were expecting London, and he keeps it on his desk at work. I figured you might like one as well.”
Our son.
Ellie and I are having a son.
“This is awesome,” I tell her, leaning in and kissing her cheek, while struggling to fight back my feelings toward Ellie that are threatening to break free. “Thank you.”
It’s been a rough several days since I woke up in bed with Ellie and reminded myself that I need to maintain a safe distance. Avoiding a woman who lives in your home that you are attracted to on a deeper level has a way of testing a man’s restraint like no other. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve jacked off in the shower. She probably thinks I have some sort of OCD about being clean.
“You’re welcome,” she says with a small smile before heading into the kitchen to make her morning tea. Every day she starts with tea and breakfast, then she moves on to yoga and a shower. From there, she spends her day television surfing, lounging by the pool, and reading—avoiding Ellie doesn’t mean I’ve stopped paying attention.
“How’s it going?” Micah asks.
I glance at the plans I’m looking over and sigh into the phone. “It’s going...” If going means reading the damn thing five times because I can’t get a certain brown-hair, green-eyed woman off my mind. Living with her is turning out to be quite the distraction, especially since I spend most of my time fantasizing about what I wish I could have but can’t.
“The kids and Sienna are finally one-hundred-percent again, so we’re planning to have London’s party on Sunday.”
“Sounds good.”
“How’s Ellie? Sienna said she’s been kind of quiet. She’s tried to video chat with her since she couldn’t see her in person, but she’s not very talkative.”
That’s probably because I fucked her seven ways to Sunday, spent the night in her bed, and then pushed her away. And aside from the necessary questions like “I’m ordering food. Want anything?” or “How’s your blood pressure doing?” I’ve been avoiding her like the plague. And she’s caught on, glaring at me every time I run into her.
“She’s been taking it easy,” I tell him honestly. “I’m sure once Sienna sees her in person that will help with them reconnecting.”
“Yeah, I hope so. Well, at least now Ellie can move back in here and get out of your space.”
“Yeah,” I agree noncommittally, my stomach tightening at the thought of Ellie no longer sleeping under my roof. It’s been a test to my restraint living with a woman I want every single second of every day, but I’m handling it, and once the baby comes, I’d like for us to co-parent together. She mentioned getting her own place, but I was hoping she’d consider living with me instead.
My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since early this morning. “Hey, listen, I need to grab something to eat and send the plan revisions for the hotel and casino to the architect. Text me a calendar invite for London’s birthday, so I don’t forget.”
We hang up and I head out of my office, starved and hoping there’s something good to eat in the fridge. I ordered Italian last night, and I’m pretty sure there was some chicken fettucine leftover...Only when I step out of my office and see Ellie, dressed in tight leggings and a tiny sports bra that has her breasts practically spilling out of the top, the only thing I’m suddenly hungry for is her.
She’s on her mat, on all fours. Her face is pointed toward the ceiling, and her eyes are closed. Her back is arched, and her round ass is sticking up in the air. With the music playing in the surround sound, she isn’t aware she has an audience, and my only thought as I watch her inhale and exhale while she stretches is how easy it would be to get on my knees behind her, tear those pants down her legs, and eat her pussy and ass from behind.