That causes me to burst out laughing through the tears. “You and your words,” I huff in mock exasperation.
“Are they working?”
“Oh, yeah. Totally.” I slide my hands around his neck and into his hair. “Move in with me?”
“We already live together, Lauren.”
“Into the same room, Michael.” I roll my eyes but still laugh.
“I’d like that,” he whispers, bowing down and capturing my lips in a soft kiss. “Marry me?”
“Marriage is an outdated notion that only exists to preserve the concept of male ownership over women.”
“So… Maybe?” He raises an eyebrow, and I can’t help the smile.
“Let’s see how raising a baby goes first,” I suggest. “Then maybe you’ll somehow manage to convince me, Cupcake.”
Michael’s eyes light up with a smirk. “Oh, I have ways of convincing you,” he informs as his lips find my neck. “Dirty ways.”
“Found your cookies!” Trista’s excited declaration reminds us we aren’t alone.
“I kinda want a cookie.” I look at Michael apologetically, and he laughs.
“Come on, Rockstar.” He slings an arm around my shoulder and walks me out to the kitchen. “Let’s go feed you.”
I look up at Michael’s handsome face. The sun from outside catches in his coppery hair, and I run a hand over my bump, wondering if our boy will get his hair, wishing for it. Hoping he’ll be every bit as beautiful as his daddy, inside and out.
* * *
Michael
“Do I need to hurt him?” Trista asks Lauren when we walk into the kitchen, and I give her the finger.
“No, not today,” Lauren replies with a mischief-filled look in my direction. Then she grabs a cookie and takes a bite, and that gaze, combined with the way her tongue darts out to lick her lips from the crumbs, has my blood rushing south.
“Tris?” I address my sister with my eyes fixated on Lauren, and Trista grunts in response, not before stuffing an entire cookie into her mouth. “Thank you. You can go now.”
“Huh?” She turns bright blue eyes at me in question, and I stare back at her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, right. See you at Mom’s tomorrow?”
I nod as Trista collects her things and pecks Lauren’s cheek on the way out, waiting to hear the door shut before pulling Lauren to me and claiming her lips. I taste sugar cookies, and that flavor that’s all her as my tongue thrusts into her mouth, swallowing her sweet moans.
“Michael,” she whimpers in protest when I pull back, then squeals with glee when I lift her onto the counter, settling between her thighs and kissing her again, softer this time, before locking my eyes with hers.
Pulling out my phone, I load a video I made a few days earlier and give the device to Lauren.
She looks at the frozen image of me sitting on the couch with my Gibson in my lap and smiles. “You finished your song.”
“I did.” I smile back. “Once I realized it was never about Naomi, it started flowing.”
“Aw. You reallydidwrite a song for me, Cupcake?” She tries to joke, but I can see how her eyes are shimmering with excitement as she clicks the screen, the last verse starting to play.
“When I grow up
I want to forget
Everything
That life threw in my way