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Jo

J o felt the sting before she realized she’d collided with something. The edge of the coffee table. And this wasn’t the first time. “Dammit,” she muttered under her breath, bending to rub her shin.

Hugo’s voice came from down the hall, steady as ever. “You okay?” A moment later, she heard his footsteps, and then he was in the living room, his presence filling the space like a warm blanket she wasn’t sure she wanted.

“My shin hurts,” she admitted reluctantly, her tone sharp with frustration. “And I think we’re overreacting. Shutting down my office? Canceling all my therapy sessions? I don’t know if I can do this.”

“We’re not overreacting,” he said calmly, crouching to inspect her leg. His big hands were gentle as they hovered over her shin, careful not to touch her without her permission. “We’re just being cautious. Give me a second. I’ll get some ice.”

Before she could protest, he was gone. She slumped onto the couch, her head in her hands. She’d never felt as blind as she did at this very moment. Hugo’s house wasn’t just larger than hers. It was also quiet—too quiet. From her small apartment, she could hear the town outside, feel the subtle hum of its energy. Here, she felt trapped in a house that was too big and unfamiliar. She’d been able to transfer a few of her sessions to online, but the rest she’d had to cancel. Except for a short walk around the house here and there, always with Hugo or one of his teammates, she hadn’t left the house in over a week, and it was driving her crazy.

When Hugo returned, he handed her a kitchen towel wrapped around a bag of ice. His voice was soft but firm. “Here. Keep it on for a few minutes.”

She took the ice reluctantly, her fingers brushing against his. The touch thrilled her, but her frustration was stronger. And just like that, the dam broke. “Aren’t you getting tired of being so gentlemanly all the time?” she snapped, her voice rising. “You married a woman you don’t love, and when I shout at you, you bring me ice. You’re always so calm, so perfect. How do you do it?”

The words, sharp and cutting, were out before she could stop them. For a moment, Hugo said nothing. The silence stretched between them. She braced herself for him to argue, to snap back, to leave the room. Anything.

Instead, he stepped closer. Slowly, deliberately, he kneeled down and wrapped his arms around her. His embrace was strong, solid, and unyielding, and she felt herself melting into the warmth of him despite her best efforts. He didn’t say a word, just held her, his breath soft on her cheek.

The fight drained out of her as quickly as it had come. She inhaled the clean, woodsy scent of him. Tears she hadn’t realized she was holding back welled up, and she blinked furiously, trying to keep them at bay. She’d never realized it was possible to be so scared and tired, both at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled against his shoulder, her voice muffled.

“It’s okay,” he said simply, his voice steady and sure.

“No, it’s not.”

“Jo.” His voice was quiet but firm, cutting through her words. “You’re scared. You’re frustrated. I get it. But you’re not alone in this. I’m here. Okay?”

“And I’m grateful. To you and to your team, for everything you’re doing. But I can’t stay cooped up in here like this.”

Hugo

The tuna bake was soggy and tasted like cardboard. He wasn’t a very good cook, but he normally did better.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not quite sure what he was apologizing for. The limp pasta. Their earlier conversation. The fact that this clearly wasn’t working for her, and he didn’t know how to make it better and still keep her safe.

“It’s not bad,” Jo said, bravely stabbing at another pasta spiral.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I don’t expect you to keep everything bottled in.”

“I do that a lot, don’t I?” she said, her lips curling in a tentative smile.

“Let it out. I want to get to know the real you.”

“The real me …” The smile fell from her face. “What if you don’t like the real me, Hugo? What happens then?”

“I like everything about you.” He put his fork down. “I do need to set you straight on something, though. Something you said earlier.” He paused, looking for the right words. “You were right in something you said earlier. I wasn’t in love with you when we got married.” Jo’s blue eyes sparkled. God, he didn’t want to make her cry. He couldn’t bear it if she cried. She blinked them back furiously, bravely, and he forced himself to go on. “You were right, but you were also wrong. Because I was already falling in love with you. And I am completely in love with you now. And if I didn’t tell you sooner, it’s because I didn’t want to scare you. With everything that’s been going on, I wanted?—”

Jo’s fork clattered on the plate, and the sound seemed to echo in the silence between them. She stared at him, her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Hugo waited, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d done it. He’d said it, even though it had felt like stepping into the void.

“You…” Jo’s voice cracked, and she stopped. She blinked, her lashes damp, her expression unreadable. “You think you’re in love with me?”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “I know I am.”

Her hands trembled slightly as she pushed her plate aside. “But you didn’t say anything.”

“I didn’t want to put pressure on you. I thought you might not be ready to hear it.” I didn’t want you to bolt .

Jo let out a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. “And you thought now was the right time? In the middle of dinner?”

Despite himself, Hugo chuckled. “It wasn’t exactly the romantic setting I had in mind.”

To his relief, she smiled faintly, her lips quirking up at the corners. But then the smile faded, and she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her belly. “Hugo … I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s more.”

“More?” She let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

“The timing may not be right, but you need to know how I see things, from where I’m standing,” he said gruffly. She was holding herself so still it scared him, but he’d said too much to stop now. All in or nothing . “I want to be a part of both of your lives. I want to be your husband, for real. I want to be your daughter’s father.” He paused. “And you don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

“Hugo …” she began, but her voice broke again. This time, she didn’t fight the tears that spilled over. Hugo reached across the small space between them, wiping the moisture from her cheeks gently with his thumb.

“Don’t cry. Please. Just think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

She nodded shakily, and the nod filled him with relief. It was more than he could have asked for. And he could wait. For as long as she needed.

“Hold me,” she asked, pulling him onto the couch with her. She was stronger than she seemed. It was an extra-wide couch, designed with tall men in mind, but still a tight fit for two people lying side by side. Hugo positioned himself over her, his elbows on the cushion, one knee braced between her legs, so as not to squash her, even as she pulled to bring him closer. She shivered against him, even though the house was warm.

“Let me get you a blanket,” he said, attempting to move away. Her arms tightened around him.

“I don’t need a blanket. I need you , Hugo.” Her neck arched upwards, searching for him. Hugo kissed the pale column of her neck, her collarbone, making his way up to her mouth. She moaned into his mouth as his lips found hers, and he swallowed the sexy little sound. He meant to keep the kiss soft and light, but then her tongue sought him out, hot and urgent, making it clear soft and light wasn’t what she needed. His mouth responded to that urgency. Their tongues battled for dominance as he took everything she offered and gave all of himself back to her in a single, soul-searching kiss.

He finally broke the kiss. An idea came to him. “Do you trust me?” he asked. “I have an idea to get you warm.”

“I trust you.” Her arms tightened against him.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” he assured her, gently easing away just enough so that he could slide an arm beneath her knees, the other around her back, lifting her off the couch. Her breath hitched, but she held on. Her body molded perfectly to his. As if they’d been made to be together.

Hugo strode across the living area towards the back glass doors. He shifted her weight in his arms just enough so one hand was free to ease the door open. It slid open with a soft whoosh, as the cool evening air rushed in. At the sound, Jo tensed. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve got you,” he said in a low voice.

She didn’t say anything else as he strode across the patio. Hugo stopped by the hot tub. “I’m going to put you down for a minute while I take the cover off,” he said, setting her down on a lounger.

“The cover—” Her mouth rounded in a perfectly rounded ‘o’. “I’m not wearing a bathing suit.”

“I’m not wearing a bathing suit either,” he said. He lifted one half of the cover back, folding it onto itself, then pulled it off the side of the tub. The lights from inside the hot tub lit up the patio. He checked the temperature quickly. It was perfect. Hot, but they wouldn’t boil like lobsters in a pot. More importantly, the temperature wasn’t going to hurt the baby.

“Well, I don’t mind if your neighbors see you in all your naked glory,” she said, her voice light but with a tinge of defiance. “But I don’t want them to see me.”

Hugo smirked, striding back to the lounger. “There aren’t any neighbors on this side,” he explained gently. “The back patio faces the woods, and there’s a seven-foot fence surrounding the property. The original owner of the house must have been very particular about his or her privacy.”

“What does it look like?”

“What?”

“The fence. What state is it in? Is it full of holes?”

Hugo laughed. “There aren’t any holes. It’s perfectly solid. Come on. The water’s perfect.” He could see she was tempted. “I swear I wouldn’t suggest it if there was a chance anybody other than me could see you.”

Jo’s fingers fiddled with the hem of the shirt she was wearing. “I’m not sure about this, Hugo.”

“I’ve got you. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He crouched down, so he was at her level on the lounger. His hand reached for hers, warm and steady. “It’s just us. No one’s watching.”

She nodded and started tugging at the buttons of her black blouse. One button. Then another, and he could see the black bra she was wearing underneath. He inhaled sharply. “Allow me,” he said.

He helped her to her feet and kneeled down, helping her take off her shoes and socks before peeling off her black pants and underwear. He was eye to eye with her lightly rounded belly and with the light curls beneath. His cock swelled uncomfortably against his jeans. Down, boy. Or they weren’t going to make it into the tub.

“Tell me you’re naked as well,” she said, her voice tense.

Hugo yanked his shirt over his head in one fluid motion, his hands already working on his belt. His jeans and boxer shorts hit the floor with a loud thud. “I am now.” Without giving Jo time to second-guess herself, Hugo scooped her up again, eliciting a soft gasp from her.

“You could have just let me walk, you know,” she muttered, but the tension in her voice was already ebbing.

“And miss this opportunity? Not a chance.” He stepped carefully toward the tub, keeping her close. The warmth of the water steamed against the cool night air. “Ready?”

“You certainly seem ready.” Her small hand grasped his cock, and he almost went off. A raw, needy groan escaped him. He battled the temptation to turn around and take her straight to bed. Slowly, he lowered them both into the water, cradling her in his arms as the heat enveloped them. Jo let out a small sigh, her expression easing. He could feel her muscles begin to relax almost instantly.

“There,” Hugo murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Better?”

She rested her head against his shoulder, the tension in her body dissolving as the water worked its magic. “Better,” she admitted, her voice soft.

For a moment, they stayed like that, suspended in the quiet warmth, with nothing but the sound of the bubbling water and the distant hum of the night. Hugo realized he could let her go. The hot tub had eight seats. But he didn’t want to.

“This is … this is incredible,” she sighed. “I don’t think I want to leave. Ever.”

Her quiet contentment soothed him. He wanted her to be warm, and comfortable. His hand found her gently rounded belly. He’d never felt a pregnant woman’s belly before and couldn’t wait to feel Jo's body swell with her child.

“It’s the perfect temperature for the little one. I checked with Val the other day.”

“That’s sweet,” Jo said, her body still relaxed against his. “Wait. Does that mean Dr. Carrel knows what we’re doing?”

“I didn’t give her that much detail. But she is a doctor.”

Jo laughed, raising her head. “I wonder if this is what she thought we were doing,” she said, wrapping her hand around his cock. It was a light, teasing touch … and then it wasn’t. She tightened her grip. Hugo groaned. The warm water heightened each sensation. The pleasure was intense, but he didn’t want to come yet.

“My turn,” he said. He felt around inside the tub until he found a water jet at approximately the right height, then guided Jo so she faced the outside of the hot tub, positioning her hands against one of the head rests. “Don’t move your hands.” He gently moved her legs to the right position, letting her know what he was doing until the jet found the right place. Hugo held her hips in place with one hand and used the thumb and forefinger of his other hand to expose her clit.

“God,” she whispered.

“How’s the pressure?”

“So … good,” Jo moaned. Her muscles shook. Hugo pressed himself against her back, enjoying all the points of contact between them, from his thighs up to his chest. His erection grew, wanting in on the fun, but Hugo ignored it.

“Lean back, honey. I’ve got you.”

Jo’s hips moved of their own accord, helping Hugo find exactly the right spot to give her pleasure. “It’s … too much,” she said eventually. “I’m going to …”

“Come,” he completed, and she did, her body tensing and trembling. He held himself against her, enjoying her pleasure, until she fell against him, boneless.

“Don’t let me drown,” she whispered.

“I’ve got you.” He pulled her out of the tub carefully, wrapping her in the same blanket they’d brought from inside.

“I’ll get your blanket wet.”

“It’ll dry.” He pulled her up into his arms easily and strode inside the house.

Jo

Jo floated up the stairs. Her toes, the tips of her fingers, still felt tingly from the amazing orgasm. She hadn’t used a water jet to pleasure herself since her teenage years, and after tonight, she was pretty sure she hadn’t been doing it right, anyway.

She leaned her head against Hugo’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Jo didn’t trust easily, less so since she’d lost her eyesight, but this, right here—in Hugo’s arms—was the safest she’d ever felt. Her mind still reeled from his earlier words. He’d said he loved her. The words burned, right on the tip of her tongue. She loved him, too. She’d loved him for a while now. She should be brave enough to tell him.

Before she could make up her mind, he’d turned right and into the master bedroom. He set her down gently on the king-sized bed, which smelled of him. Of sandalwood and clean cotton. She inhaled deeply as he got inside beside her and pulled the summer duvet around them both.

His lips brushed against the back of her head. “Sleep, Jo.”

Her body felt weightless, as it had when they were still in the water. She pushed against his back—and encountered his enormous erection. “That doesn’t feel sleepy,” she whispered, wriggling her hips against it.

His hands stilled her hips. Though he held her gently, the touch of his rough, calloused fingertips thrilled her. “That’s not helping.”

“It’s not?” she asked innocently, wriggling harder against him. He groaned, his own hips moving forward, seeking more of that contact. He reached around to the front, his finger finding her core, strumming her clit gently. After her recent orgasm, it felt hot and swollen. His finger slid through her wetness, pushing deep inside her. She moaned. She didn’t think she could take any more foreplay. “Take me like this. I’m so ready.”

Hugo pulled her legs up, her knees closer to her chest, curling his own body around her back and positioning his cock against her entrance. From this position, he felt huge going in. She held her breath as the first few inches stretched her. “You okay?” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear.

“Mmmm …” Another inch. She felt so full. Like he was touching parts of her that had never been touched before. And then Hugo reached forward, his thumb coming dangerously close to her clit, and Jo realized she wasn’t going to last. “If you do that …”

“If I do that, you’ll come hard against my cock?” he finished, flicking her clit gently in time with his thrusts, knowing exactly what his voice, his touch, his warm breath, were doing to her. The pressure grew and grew inside her.

“Hugo!” Jo exploded, her inner muscles clenching hard against his cock, and then he was there with her, his hips pistoning against her, his grip tight on her hips, his control finally shattered. He stayed inside her for a long time, until his cock softened and he had to pull out.

When it was over, and both their heart rates had slowed down, he held her gently. “Are you okay, Jo? I wasn’t too rough?”

I love you. “It was perfect,” she said instead.

“I’m so sleepy …” he said, and the tone of wonder in his voice made her hurt inside. She turned to face him, wrapping her into his arms, needing to make him feel as safe as he made her feel.

“Sleep, then. I’m right here.”