Erin couldn’t stop her hands from shaking as she made her way down the hallway in search of the kitchen. Without the smell of bacon as her beacon, she would’ve got lost six turns ago. She clutched the crumpled contract even harder as she turned the corner and saw Julian standing over a stove and cooking scrambled eggs.
“Good morning,” he said in a dead tone without turning around.
“I’ve decided I’ll have your baby.”
Julian spun around, his eyes wide and shocked. “Excuse me?”
“My answer is yes, but I have negotiations to your contract.”
He stood there frozen, egg-covered spatula in hand and his mouth hanging open. He was wearing only a pair of thin, baby blue pajama pants and no shirt. Erin pursed her lips, determined to hold his gaze, but holy shit, her eyes had a mind of their own, and now she was ogling his sculpted torso. Wide, cut shoulders and a straight, deep indentation between his pecs, drawn up nipples and eight perfect abs, flexing with every breath. And oh, the shadows adorned his torso well. He even had those defined muscles over his hips that she found so bitable. But the skin over his muscular physique wasn’t smooth as she’d imagined it to be. Instead, it was rough and uneven and darker on some parts than others. Scars, or perhaps old burns? Shit, stop staring.
A pungent scent hit her nostrils. “Your eggs are burning.”
“What?”
“Your eggs.”
“Shit!” Julian spun and yanked the pan off the overkill eight-burner stove. It was deeply satisfying to hear the man curse like a commoner.
With a dragon growl that rattled the room, he gritted his teeth until a muscle in his chiseled jaw bulged. He glared at the ruined food. “Everything else is ready, but you’ll have to wait on the eggs,” he muttered as he pulled a carton out of the fridge.
Erin looked around at the plates overflowing with pancakes, waffles, French toast, bacon, sausage, biscuits, and cinnamon rolls. “I think we will be okay without the eggs.”
"I eat a lot,” he said low, eyes narrowed on hers. “I’m going to go put on a shirt.”
Right. She was staring again. “No, don’t! I mean,” Erin said, lowering her voice to a non-lunatic volume. “I like the way you look like this, all disheveled and natural. It makes you less intimidating.”
He sighed out a troubled sound and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not saying I agree to this, but tell me your negotiations while I make you a plate. I’m curious.”
“Okay,” she drawled out, taking a seat on one of the wooden stools under the kitchen island. The room matched the hallway. White, sterile cabinets to match white marble countertops. It made her want to pull a hoodie on. “First off, I should tell you why I’m agreeing to this so you understand where I’m coming from. I’m not in this for the money, and I don’t need you to take care of me like that. I mean, a little support wouldn’t hurt, but I don’t need you providing for me. I can take care of myself and…our…baby.”
Julian looked troubled as he loaded pancakes onto her plate, but nodded. “Go on.”
“I liked the way you were with Scarlett last night, and it’s nice to imagine you caring for our… God, this is weird. It’s weird talking about this, right?” Erin shook her head. “Moving on. I think I am capable of bring another human into this world, however hard it might look at first. And I don’t know how much of a background check you did on me, but I want you to know that my mother, before she died, was about to give birth to a baby. Twins actually. Unfortunately, they couldn't make it.”
“Damn. They all died in the accident, didn't they?”
“Yes, and they actually weren't supposed to. After the accident she was rushed to the hospital, the babies were somehow miraculously saved. They were immature and just barely breathing, but.. They made it. I was so overjoyed. I felt like they were a little gift left by our parents. Something to make us feel their presence. I was prepared to a mother for the twins, I did everything. Every single thing. And then... Out of blue, the hospital called...” She licked her lips and swallowed hard at the memory of the day her dreams had been crushed.
“Don’t say anymore,” Julian said suddenly, and when she looked up, she could’ve sworn there was fear in his dark eyes. “I don’t want to hear the rest. I already know. I read it.”
Hurt, jagged and red, washed through her. Steeling herself, she whispered, “Fine. I wanted those babies. I truly wanted them. I was obsessed for months after their death. I couldn't connect, but moving out of there with Jake... It helped a lot.”
“How did Jake take it?”
Clara nodded. “Jake was savior. He helped me get through it all. He wanted us to take care of our siblings. It was a traumatic experience for him too.”
"I'm really sorry about that."
Julian looked sick as he slid her plate toward her. He turned his back on her and began cracking eggs into a bowl. “You are very strong, Erin Dexter.”
“I was empty after— Fuck.” Clara scraped her teeth against her lip in an effort to keep her emotions in check and said, “Anyway, I went to doctors to try to collect the corpses, but they refused to give them to us. Said we were too young to bury the babies. We insisted on at least seeing them at the hospital morgue but they refused. We finally realized that something was wrong and somehow, they lost their bodies... Or sold them, perhaps.” Tears blurred her vision at how horrible the situation had made her feel. “both babies lost, but it didn’t keep,” she whispered. “I’ve never told anyone that before.”
Julian's shoulders were rigid as he worked stiffly over the stove, and he banged the pan onto the back burner so hard, the sound made her jump. He hooked his hands on his hips and stared out the window, his back a stony silhouette in the early morning light. Without a word, he turned and strode around the island, his eyes blazing in the instant before he crushed her to his chest. Shocked, she froze as his skin burned against hers. And when her surprise wore off, she slowly lifted her hands and hugged him, running her palms over his uneven skin.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Sorry that happened. Sorry you lost…” He huffed an exhalation and gripped the back of her wild hair, burying his face against her neck. “Fuck, you smell good. Soap and fruit and mint.”
“I brushed my teeth,” she muttered like a sexpot. Real smooth.
He rattled a satisfied-sounding rumble as he sidled closer between her legs until he pressed against her sex. Erin cursed how thick the denim material of her jeans were. “Negotiation number one,” she whispered, running her fingernails up and down his back. “No more doctors. And no ovulation tests or worrying obsessively over whether it will happen for us.”
“What do you mean, no doctors?”
“Your contract says you want to get me pregnant with doctors, but I don’t want this to be scientific. I tried that, and it was a cold and lonely experience. I want to do this the old-fashioned way.”
Julian was still breathing against her skin, and now he plucked at her neck gently with his lips. Her sex throbbed once, the little beggar.
“You want me to breed you the old-fashioned way then?”
“Negotiation number two, stop using the words breed or breeder. It’s sex, and we’re friends with benefits who share a common goal of making a baby. Together.”
“Sex,” he murmured in an odd, animalistic voice she didn’t recognize.
***