Graham
“Morning gorgeous.”
Instead of a response, I get a very unladylike grunt.
I laugh, holding out the decaf iced coffee and still warm cheese danish I picked up from Em’s favorite bakery up the street.
I think I’m doing a pretty good job at being a thoughtful guy.
Not that she’s even really noticing, seeing as how she answered the door in sweatpants, a baggy t-shirt, her bunny slippers with a wild case of bedhead and only one eye open.
“What time is it?” she says, her voice still hoarse with sleep.
I glance down at my Apple Watch on my wrist. “Almost nine.”
Her eyes fly open. “What? No? Oh God, we’re going to miss our flight!” she cries, leaving me standing in her doorway as she flies around her apartment, snatching things off the couch and counter.
“It’s fine, we’ve got an hour. Do whatever you need to do.”
She pauses, an adorably frustrated look on her face. “Okay, give me ten minutes to throw the rest of my stuff in my bag, and I’ll shower and get ready. Can you grab my pregnancy pillow?”
I nod. “Yep, no problem.”
Nodding, she disappears through the doorway, and I hear her moving and bustling around her room. When I walk through the door, she’s lying across a suitcase that’s literally bursting at the seams.
“Woah, let me do that.” I nod toward her stomach. “Gotta be careful of my babies.”
She pauses, standing straight. “Right. Yes.”
I walk over to the overflowing suitcase, push down and it shuts with ease. For the life of me, I don’t understand why she shoved half her wardrobe in here for a two-week stay, but if it makes her feel more comfortable… Fuck it.
Grabbing her suitcase, then the life-size pillow on her bed, I roll it out to the foyer and wait for her to finish showering. While I have a minute, I pull out my phone and send a quick text to my mom and sister in our family group chat, telling them that we’ll be leaving shortly, and I can’t wait to see them.
I haven’t been home in so long, and it will be the first and only time I’ve ever brought a woman home with me.
I’m worried Ma might have a heart attack from the shock. She’s been trying to marry me off to any of the eligible girls in town since I was barely a freshman in college.
“Ready?” Em asks, reappearing from her room. She’s dressed in a flowy shirt and sandals, with a matching gold bracelet and necklace. Seeing the diamond shine on her finger does something to me.
A primal, possessive feeling stirs inside me.
Mine.
“Yep, after you.” My hand wraps around the handle of the suitcase as she opens the door and I follow behind her, my free hand on the small of her back.
She locks up and then turns toward the driver parked in front of the house.
“Really?”
I shrug. “Figured you’d be more comfortable in a limo.”
Her eyes soften slightly. “Graham, I don’t need fancy or expensive. You know that, right?”
I do, but it doesn’t matter. I want to spoil her, take care of her as much as she’ll let me. Whenever I can.
“I want to make you happy, Em. Fake or not.”
I am beginning to hate this, already. The fake bullshit. Because every single second I’m around her, I want to yank her to me and kiss her until she’s breathless, reminding her that there is nothing fake about the way we are together.