Page 165 of Sugar

“It’s not nonnegotiable.”

“But I don’t even know how much of the movie I’ll be able to watch. I’ll need the after-party to get caught up on the bits I miss because your son likes to dance a jig on my bladder.”

“Tripp already told me which scenes are good for bathroom breaks so you won’t miss anything important.”

I was supposed to be a fierce opponent, but there was no resisting that level of consideration toward my career. Not to mention, my bladder.

I’d always imagined myself as a hard-hitting journalist who would break stories of scandals, corruption, and the gritty underbelly of the world. I’d wanted to be the biggest pain in the ass the world never knew it had.

But then I’d coveredOld Flamefor The Coastal Chronicle, and all that had changed.

My genuine love of movies and the unpretentious way I judged them on vibes and enjoyment resonated with others. I filled a void left by harsh critics, miserable whiners, and dummies who lacked the media literacy to understand nuance.

That following landed me a regular movie column on JoltNews.

I still got to investigate and report, I just did it about a topic that I loved. If there were no new releases or premieres to cover—or none I was interested in—I drew on a lifetime of movie binges to recommend classics.

That was what I would be doing during my lengthy maternity leave that Easton said was mandatory for both of us.

But there was something else we wouldn’t be able to do for quite a while, and I wanted it one last time before our baby came.

“Fine,” I relented before lifting a finger. “But I have my own stipulation.”

My loving husband arched an expectant brow.

“I will leave as soon as the credits roll,” I said, “ifwe can go to Gilded after.” Hunger filled his dark gaze, but I still sweetened a pot that didn’t need sweetening. “I’ll even sit on my cushion if you help me up after.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Madeline Wells.” He held out a hand.

I accepted it. “I could say the same of you, Tyrant.”

Unlike the first time we struck an arrangement, neither of us was fighting our feelings. He wasn’t struggling to keep his distance because of our age difference. I wasn’t embarrassingly hiding the desires I didn’t understand.

We knew who we were. We loved each other to the point of obsession.

And we were never giving each other back.

That was why we sealed our deal with a kiss.

And then I leaned back. “About the premiere…”

“No party,” he bit out.

“No movie at all.” I glanced down at the slow, steady drip. “I’m pretty sure my water just broke.”

The End