Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
He laughs. He actually has the nerve to laugh as he crosses his muscular arms across his chest. “So wait, is the high heel your protection? Were you going to play dress up with the assailant?” he asks, laughing harder.
This time I do throw the shoe at him and he rubs his arm where I hit him. Good, I hope it hurt. “Shepherd, get out of my house.” I walk over to get a mug out of the cabinet and when I pull the handle it doesn’t budge. I pull away and nothing. “What the hell?” I whisper.
“I’m baby-proofing,” he says, stepping up behind me.
He reaches over me and his powerful scent wraps around me. I close my eyes momentarily and my stupid body that is full of raging hormones heats up. He’s nearly pressed against my back, his arm almost touching my face, and the closeness turns me on. I can feel his body heat through the thin fabric of my sleep shorts and tank top.
“I put these on the cabinets, so you’ll need to use this magnet to get them open now,” he says, bursting the erotic bubble. The cabinet opens and he steps back. “There you go.”
I spin around, which is a mistake because he’s still very close. “Shepherd, you can’t come into my house and just baby-proof without my knowledge. Not to mention, it’s not even necessary yet. That’s for older babies that are crawling.” I shake my head and point at the cabinet over the countertop. “And seriously, do you think the baby is going to climb the bottom cabinets, get on the counter, reach up, and open this one?”
“It’s possible. The book says you should put locks on every cabinet,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.
I grab a mug out of the cabinet and slam it shut. “Book?” I ask, pouring coffee into my cup and grateful he didn’t unplug my coffee pot since I had it set to brew.
“Yes, book. It’s all about what to expect.” He pushes a book toward me on the counter. “Here, I got one for you too.”
I stare at the book, The Expectant Mother, before lifting my eyes to his. “You read this?”
He runs his hand through his hair before shoving his hands in his pockets. “No, of course not. I read, The Expectant Father.”
My eyes soften as I stare at him. He’s really serious about this. He may be taking it to an extreme level right now, but he’s preparing and that’s kinda sweet.
“I think you should breastfeed too, because the benefits of it are amazing, even if it makes your nipples a little tough for a while.”
And there goes that sweet thought.
I sip my coffee and lean my hip against the counter. “Shepherd, you’re not allowed to talk about my nipples.” I take another sip of coffee and narrow my eyes. “Ever.”
He’s probably been with other women since me and having him refer to my nipples, even when talking about breastfeeding, pisses me off. He couldn’t pick my nipples out of a lineup. Not that I want him to be able to pick them out or that I ever want my nipples in a lineup. Ugh, what the hell is wrong with me?
“Look, even though you broke into my house and scared the hell out of me, I get what you’re trying to do. The thing is, I don’t need or want you to do it. If you want to baby proof your house, go for it. My house will be taken care of by me. I’ll do what I want and what is necessary.”
“Felicity, I’m willing to bend on some things, but the safety, health, and happiness of my child will never be up for debate. I need to know that he or she will be safe here and for that matter, anywhere. I will baby proof every house the baby will ever visit. And just so you know, I did baby proof my house already.”
I shake my head as he picks up the screwdriver. “Shepherd, go home. I’m going to sit and enjoy my coffee. I have plans today and they don’t include you walking around my house doing what you please.”
“What are your plans?” he asks, an anger clear in his accusing voice.
I should tell him to go to hell. I should tell him it’s none of his business. I should remind him again that we are not dating. But instead, I find the truth pouring out of me.
“My best friend is coming over and I’m going to tell her I’m pregnant before she finds out from one of your siblings.”
He nods and cleans up the mess he’s left on my counter. “We’ll have dinner together, say around six. I’ll bring over something healthy.”
“What? No, Shepherd. I told you I have plans.”
He’s infuriating. Why can’t he understand what I’m trying to say?