Page 27

MERIT

It’s late afternoon when I wake. Holt’s not next to me, but I know he’s been here. The pillow beside me is still indented from the weight of his head. I hear the soft murmur of voices downstairs. Making my way to the bathroom, I turn on the shower and undress, carefully folding my new maternity support belt so the Velcro doesn’t stick where it’s not supposed to.

I don’t even have time to step one toe inside the shower before Holt is coming through the door. “Mer?” His breath hitches in the back of his throat when he sees my naked body.

Despite the stretch marks now dotting my waistline—matching perfectly with the ones on my upper thighs—and the swollen ankles, Holt still looks at me like I’m beautiful. Always with hunger in his eyes and lust on his face.

Clearing his throat, he forces himself to recover. “I thought I heard the shower. Why didn’t you come get me? You need help.”

Unable to bear the intensity of his gaze, I wrap a towel around me. “It’s okay. I can handle a shower on my own.”

He folds his arms across his chest. “You did hear the doctor when he told you to take it easy, right?”

I snort. “Well, he wasn’t covered in ultrasound lubricant, and he probably didn’t smell like he rented a vacation bungalow in a medical waste trash can.”

Holt chuckles. “Good point.” He pulls his T-shirt over his head. The ripple of his muscles heats every part of me. Watching him feels like taking a walk in the sun on the first warm day of spring. “Don’t think of it as me hovering . Just think of it as us killing two birds with one stone.” He pretends to sniff his armpit. “Because I definitely need a date with a bar of soap myself.”

Smiling, I reach into the linen closet and grab him a fresh towel. He strips down and guides me into the shower. The hot water rinses over me, washing away the residual ache and tightness of the previous night. He hands me a shampoo bottle and gently kisses my neck. This isn’t our first shower together. In fact, showering with him is actually one of my favorite things to do. We have our own special routine, our own special dance.

After shampooing and conditioning, I prop my leg up on the tile bench and lather it with shaving cream.

“You’re shaving?” he asks.

What a stupid question.

I can’t help but giggle. “Yeah. Why?”

He shrugs, not sure how to respond. Water falls across his face, chasing the pathways created by his freckles. He loves watching me shave. I know he does. He doesn’t have to say anything. The hardening of his erection says it all.

And when I shave my pubic area clean, he turns away, soaping himself for the fifteenth time.

We finish showering, and he helps me dry off. I’m standing in front of the mirror combing my hair when he comes up behind me, planting his body firmly against mine.

He’s all hard lines and erotic electricity.

“So, are you still hurting?”

“Not really. The medicine seems to be working.”

He nuzzles against me. His hot breath sends a shiver down my spine. “You know, I did some reading online about round ligament pain.”

“You did?”

“It says that having an orgasm can actually relax the muscles and ease some of the tension and nerve pain you’ve been experiencing.”

My desire for him is so strong, my own lip quivers. As much as the next sentence hurts to say, I say it. “Holt, I…I just don’t think it would be smart. I feel better, but my insides are still pretty sore. And…” I watch myself blush in the mirror, “you’re really big, in that department. It may hurt.”

He stares at my reflection. “I would never hurt you. Do you trust me?”

I study his eyes, falling deeper and deeper into the color. Intense and mystical, it’s the most beautiful shade of blue ever known to exist. “Of course, I trust you.”

Looping his finger in the fabric of my towel, he pushes it to the ground. Grabbing my hand, he leads me to the bed and lays me down.

My body throbs with need. I need this so bad. But I’m scared.

“Holt, are you sure?” His cock is huge, and I feel so tender and swollen.

“Baby, I don’t need my dick to make you come. I don’t even need my fingers. All I need is my tongue. I’m gonna lavish you. I’m gonna lick you slow and sweet. I’ve got hours.”

And with that, he buries his head between my legs.

And he’s right.

I do relax.

Three times.

***

I meander down the stairs, eager to see my parents and Granny. And also eager to dig into the fried rice that Holt said Cullen was bringing for everyone.

I hear everybody outside on the patio, so I decide to detour into the kitchen for some water first. Rounding the stairs, I pause in the doorway, listening to the one-sided conversation.

“Are you kidding me right now, Kimber?” Ridge’s tense voice stops me in place. “So, you’re telling me your eyelash appointment is more important than this?”

I peek around the corner. He’s holding his phone so tightly his knuckles are white. “She doesn’t need a gift to feel better. Merit just loves having her family around. That’s all she needs. Us .”

He’s right. That’s all I need. All I want.

Well, him. Not necessarily her.

He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “No, everyone’s already here. Except Cullen, he’s on his way with the food.”

He inhales. “Kimb—”

He doesn’t even get her full name out. I can only assume she cut him off.

After a minute, he sighs. “Okay. I understand.” He swallows so loudly his throat makes a noise. “I’ll give her your best.”

Closing his eyes, he nods. “I love you too.”

I wait until he hangs up and then I knock on the doorframe.

Visible relief drowns his face. He breaks into a wide, happy smile. “Hey, you. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” I cross the distance between us, falling into his all-encompassing hug. He nuzzles against my hair. “I’m surprised Holt let Rapunzel out of the tower.”

I lean back, looking into his eyes. “I’m surprised you know who Rapunzel is.”

“You have met Anna and Laura, right?”

I giggle, choking on a snort. “Good point.”

“You gave us quite the scare.”

I shake my head and rub my stomach. “Blame him,” I say, talking about Daire.

“Ah, I can’t go blaming my godson, can I? I mean, I’m gonna be the one he calls when he wants to escape y’all.”

I roll my eyes. Nodding at his phone, I change the subject. “Everything okay?”

He looks down at it, sizing it up like it’s a foreign object, new and unfamiliar. “Yeah. She’s just not very good at…the hard things, the emotional things.” His eyebrow lifts. “Her family is…very professional.”

“Sounds like someone I used to know,” I say, thinking back on my time as Edward’s wife.

He smiles softly. “Yeah, I guess it does, doesn’t it?”

“Why are you with her?” I ask honestly, praying I don’t offend him.

“She’s different once you really get to know her.”

I squint, trying to read his face. I don’t know him like I know Holt. Ridge is harder to read. “But does she make you happy?”

He freezes, thinking. Eventually, he opens his mouth to answer but the moment is interrupted.

Holt walks into the kitchen, arms filled with takeout bags. As aways, it only takes him a split second to size up the scene in front of him. Years of playing on the field make his eye/brain coordination quicker than most. “I’d think twice before trying to steal my girl, brother,” he says. “Don’t forget she’s used to a real man.” Passing us, he gives me a wicked little wink.

Cullen rounds the corner, holding even more bags, and not missing a beat, “You know, if you’re picking Conway brothers, all the ladies say I’m better in bed.”

My curiosity is immediately piqued. “Y’all sleep with the same women?”

“Of course, not,” Ridge scoffs. “But trust me, if we did, they would definitely say I’m the better Conway brother.”

Cullen leans against the kitchen island, pinning Ridge with a stare. “Katie Ellis.”

Ridge’s eyes widen and his head falls back. “Oh, shit,” he chuckles. “I forgot about Katie Ellis.”

“Yeah, she was a nice girl.” Cullen looks over his shoulder, searching for Holt. Pointing a finger at him, he flashes a demented smile. “In fact…”

Gasping, I immediately close my eyes and slap my hands over my ears. “Holy crap! I don’t wanna hear it!”

Covering your ears never really does anything, though. I can still hear. “C, if you say another word, I swear I’ll kill you,” Holt threatens.

Cullen bursts into laughter. “Hey, look, it’s the face.”

“I don’t make a face,” I growl, peeking through squinted eyes.

Right then, Granny walks into the kitchen, and her muffled voice sings in my ears. “Sweetheart!” Before wrapping me in a hug, she taps my nose. “What’s with the weird face? Are you still hurting?”

Behind her back, I flip the bird to the three jackasses laughing at me.

***

Holt’s arm wraps around me, pulling me against his body. True to his word, his cell phone is right beside him on the nightstand. I know it’s weird for him. He keeps picking it up to make sure the volume is turned down as low as possible, but still loud enough for him to hear in the event of an emergency.

Which, as we know, is ridiculous.

For one, I’m right beside him. You couldn’t even fit a sheet of paper between the two of us. I’m not going to call him with an emergency.

Two, a foghorn could be blowing in his ear, and he wouldn’t wake up. I think having a burglar creep around your house for three months straight is proof of that.

He kisses the shell of my ear, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m just sore.” I think back to last night. “I really hope that doesn’t happen again. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared.”

“You and me both.”

I yawn, smiling to myself and thinking about the wonderful night we had tonight —what a difference just one night can make. All our family, coming together, just to make sure I’m okay. “I wanna go home to the farm.”

Holt freezes, not breathing. “What?”

He thinks I’m talking about leaving him. I have to admit, the thought terrifies the shit out of me too. “Just for a few days,” I add.

He leans over, searching me for the truth.

He can’t see my face in the dark, so I reassure him with my words. “Only for a couple of days, I promise.”

Content with my answer, his body relaxes, and he settles back down on the bed. “When?”

“Tomorrow?”

His fingers trace up and down my thigh, from my knee to my hip. “Okay. You can ride back with your parents. I’ll drive down Friday night as soon as the game is over. We’ll stay the weekend there. Come back home next Sunday evening.”

“Are you sure? Why not just drive down on Saturday morning? The game won’t get over until late. I hate to think of you driving in the middle of the night.”

He nuzzles against me, inhaling the scent of my shampoo. “You do realize tomorrow is Sunday? So, we’re talking about you being away from me for five whole nights. I have no intentions of making it six.”

“Oh, that is a long time, sir ,” I tease. “How on earth do you plan to survive?”

He playfully bites my neck. “Ever had phone sex, Mer?”