“Why not?”
Her hand smoothed up my chest to clasp my neck. “You’re a romantic, Moses. I didn’t see that coming.”
“Me neither, to be honest. Never had much reason to be.”
She laid her head on my shoulder, pushing her cheek to burrow deeper. “You keep doing things that make me want to fall for you. This jukebox, dancing with me, letting me freak out on you about moving…I’m starting to believe you might be the real deal.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. Shewantedto fall for me? I’d fallen so far for her, I didn’t know my way up anymore. Michaela was a scrappy fighter, and I admired that about her, but I didn’t know how to get her to lay down her gloves with me. I didn’t know if she ever would.
“At Last” faded out, and Mic’s second selection began playing. The haunting, deep voice of a female singer, without instrumental backup, slid through the speakers.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“That’s Nina Simone. Goddess of the blues. Gabby pretty much idolized her and played her music at all hours. I think I had ‘I Put a Spell on You’ memorized before I was five.” She tipped her head back. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah, I do.” I cupped her ass and pulled her closer, her belly pressing against me. “I especially like the part where I’m holding you while we listen.”
She sighed, and I almost heard the smile in it. “This part is pretty damn grand. You, me, and Nina Simone.”
We swayed, and she sang softly. Michaela may have been considering letting herself fall, but I was in love with her. Having her here, in my arms, dancing to the music of her childhood, made it even more clear. I hadn’t gone a day without feeling frustrated and out of my mind since Las Vegas, but that didn’t lessen how I felt about her. Some might think our baby girl was the reason, but I’d been heading toward being in love with Michaela since the second she’d asked me to be real with her.
She tipped her head back, her nails lightly scratching the scruff on my cheek. “What about Simone for The Bump?”
My hand moved from her ass to her belly, which seemed to be growing more and more by the hour. “That’s a big name.”
“It is. It’s pretty, though, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I breathed. “Simone.” I tested it out on my tongue, seeing how it felt. And damn if it didn’t feel right.
“Moses, Michaela, and Simone.” Her dark eyes sparkled.
“Not an ‘M’ name.”
“No, but I’m cool with that. We have enough M’s in our life.” Her hand pressed to my face. “It’s okay if you don’t like it. You have to tell me if you don’t.”
I turned my face to kiss her wrist. “Now that you’ve said it, I’m not going to be able to think of her as anything other than Simone. It’s the perfect musical name for a musical family.”
The music faded after a minute or two, and while Michaela selected more songs on the jukebox, I checked my phone to see if the movers had called with an ETA. They had another load they were dropping off before they brought Michaela’s things, so they’d been pretty vague about the timeframe.
Instead of the movers, I had a series of texts from our manager, Clark.
We need to talk about putting out a press release re: your impending fatherhood and relationship with Ms. Ashwood.
It will be far better for us to stay ahead of the information than letting the press have a field day with speculation.
It doesn’t have to be extremely personal. A simple statement that you’re married, expecting a child, and would like privacy during this special time.
The press will speculate now that Ms. Ashwood is living with you. You won’t be able to hide it for long. I’m surprised no one has splashed your marriage license all over the news. You’ve been lucky so far. I wouldn’t count on that continuing.
As much as I disliked Clark, he had a valid point. Staying ahead of the story was always the wisest course.
“Hey, Mic.”
She looked up from the jukebox with a smile. “Hey, Moses.”
I walked back to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “My manager, Clark, texted. He says we need to make a press release. Something simple, stating we’re married and expecting a baby.”
Michaela stiffened, her brow pulling into a tight line. “I haven’t even told my parents.”