The baby . . .
Okay, so the baby was awesome, but it was also a real kink in the situation with Asher. Sometimes when she was lying in bed with him, she wondered why he was suddenly so interested in her. She worried it might be the baby. But if that was the case, why had he signed his rights away? The paperwork was done and filed with her lawyer.
The paperwork bothered her, too. It didn’t seem right to force Asher to give up his child. If he wanted to be in the baby’s life, did she have a right to prevent it? Did she even want to? If her baby had a chance of a loving father, how could she possibly say no after her cold, mostly forgotten upbringing?
It worried her. She wanted the best for her baby, and what if the best was two parents?
I swear I’m trying to think of you and not what I want, she told it silently. Just because I was mad at Asher, you shouldn’t be forced to be fatherless.
She wasn’t even mad anymore. Did that evening in the gardens still hurt her? Of course. But he’d sure made it clear that her pleasure in bed was his priority. She was willing to forgive. And he’d been so attentive and loving over the last few weeks.
It was almost like they were a real couple. She just really wasn’t sure what they were. Friends with benefits . . . and a baby on the way? What happened after the wedding? What then? She was afraid to ask.
“Such a serious look on your face,” called a familiar voice from the doorway.
She looked up and smiled at Asher. “Just planning some wedding stuff,” she lied. Her brain should have been fully in wedding-mode but she couldn’t stop thinking about him and the baby and how their puzzle pieces fit together. “Did you finish your to-do list?”
“Mostly.”
“Er, mostly? The wedding is in two days, Ash. What have you forgotten? Your suit? Is your suit not ready? Because—”
“The suit’s fine,” he told her, striding into the room. No one else was around, and so instead of sitting down at the large castle table, he came to her side and leaned against it, his leg inches from her hand. “You look tired.”
“I’m not tired. It’s just busy right now. Actually, I’m probably going to be busy up until they leave for their honeymoon.” She’d booked four tickets, just in case her father wanted to bring the trio with him. “That means there’s probably not much time for . . .”
“Playtime?” he supplied. He reached out and tugged a lock of hair free from where she’d tucked it behind her ear. “Is this you letting me down gently, sweetheart?”
“No! Not at all. I just . . . I need to focus for the next few days. That means I can’t stay at your place tonight.” Mostly because she tended to let him distract her away from any work she should have been doing and when she spent the night, she tended to sleep late. Real late. “I’m sorry. We need to focus. Everything has to go off without a hitch or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Of course,” he murmured, rubbing the lock of her hair between his fingers.
He certainly knew how to be distracting. “What did you say you haven’t finished on your list yet?”
I’m just struggling with the whole best-man speech part.”
“Because my father’s not given to sentiment?” She could understand that. Stijn was a hard man to like at times. Filling a speech with his greater qualities might not be the easiest of tasks.
“Something like that.”
“Just keep it brief and clever and I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She stacked her charts. “You can always practice it on me.”
He chuckled, and she realized what she’d said too late. “Why, Greer, are you telling me that I need to practice my oral skills?” He leaned in and tugged her hair free of the clip she wore. He’d gotten really good at releasing her hair, and every time he did, it led to sex.
Her entire body flushed with arousal at the thought.
God, what was it about being around this man that made her seem like she was a horny teenager ready to have sex at the slightest suggestion? And why did she love it so much? She bit her lip and peeked up at him. “Now that you mention it . . .” Her finger went to his slacks and she idly traced a fingertip along the front pleat. “You have needed a lot of practice lately.”
“Woman,” he growled low in his throat. “Where’s your room?”
“I’ll show you,” Greer breathed. She clutched the charts to her chest to hide her hard nipples and got to her feet. “Follow me.”
“I’m all yours.”
She took his hand and led him down one of the back halls of the castle, towards the staff quarters. Luckily, they didn’t run into anyone, or Greer would have been embarrassed at being caught in a “booty call.” She got to her room and opened the door, then shoved him inside. She followed him in a second later and locked the door.
His body was stiff, anger on his face. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Hmm?” She glanced around. Bed made. Computer on desk. Clothes in suitcase still neatly stored on suitcase rack.
“This is your fucking room?” Asher turned and glared at her. “Your father lives in a damn castle with three blonde nitwits and he keeps you with the staff in this hole?” He gestured at the small bedroom. “You don’t even have a full-sized bed. I’ve seen car seats bigger than that bed.”
She wasn’t going to argue over this. Flustered, Greer ran her hands through her hair, smoothing it. “I’m only here temporarily, and my original room was on the second floor with the rest of the girlfriends, but people kept wandering in when I was trying to sleep. My father’s guests are often drunk and I didn’t feel safe. I like it here. It’s cozy and out of the way.”