Page 55 of Nine Month Contract
“You’re right,” I offer simply because deep down, the fat thing is just the excuse I use for why I don’t let men get close enough to me to be more than sex. The real reason is much more intense and would probably take years of therapy to unpack.
Wyatt nods firmly. “I just think confidence and independence are two qualities that some men find hard to handle in a woman, and you just haven’t found a guy strong enough not to be afraid of it.”
My lips part in shock at this normally very quiet mountain man’s astute observation. I feel overwhelmed with the sense of wanting to fall head over heels in love with him or crawl across the table and fuck him in front of everyone staring at us right now. Maybe I want both.
Fuck you, hormones!
I steel myself to get my thoughts back on track. To not paint a picture of myself as this needy, insecure girl because I am not. I am woman, hear me roar.
“The real reason is that I’m too selfish, I guess. I like just taking care of myself and my animals. Plus, not wanting kids can be a deal breaker for a lot of guys. If I have my animals, what more do I need in life?”
Wyatt watches me thoughtfully for a moment, and I can’t help but see the mischievous glint flicker in his eyes. His voice is low and breathy when he asks, “What do you do if you have…needs? Besides your trusty pink vibrator, obviously.”
The corner of his mouth tugs up into a teasing smirk as heat instantly floods my cheeks. God, this man can go from grumpy stick-in-the-mud know-it-all to wicked challenging sex on a stick in the blink of an eye. Those sundown sessions feel like ages ago now, but one little look from Wyatt, and I’m right back on his bed, getting myself off with his scent all around me.
My voice is coy when I give him my answer. “I have some non-battery-operated options. Sort of a no-strings-attached roster that I access whenever I feel theneed.” I pause to breathe because it suddenly feels very hot in this room. “My friend Avery calls it my bullpen.”
And if I’m honest, as much as I’ve enjoyed thatbullpenon and off over the years, and despite how horny these pregnancy hormones are making me, I haven’t once thought to hit them up.
The brooding man in front of me obviously has nothing to do with that.
Wyatt nods, watching me seriously, but says nothing. I really hate when he does that. Usually, I can tell what he’s thinking, but tonight, the look in his eye makes me wish he’d say the quiet part out loud.
I stare back at him as our eyes play a game of chicken for who will look away first. I’m very competitive, so without blinking, I ask, “What about you? Do you have a bullpen of your own?”
He watches me thoughtfully for a moment, his eyes dropping to my lips before he replies, “I haven’t felt the need to access it lately.”
My lips purse together curiously. “Why is that?”
A low rumble vibrates his chest as I watch his square jaw slide from side to side. “Because I might be focusing too much on getting into someone else’s bullpen.”
With that simple reply, there’s a shift in the atmosphere. Suddenly, the air feels heavy and dense, like the calm before a really bad storm. Our food goes cold, and the gawkers around us disappear from my periphery. Right now, it’s just me and this bearded man staring at each other for what feels like a lifetime and a split second all at the same time.
I open my mouth to ask what he means by that exactly when a glass shatters from somewhere behind the bar. It causes Wyatt to break eye contact with me, and I take that reprieve to drag in a deep, cleansing breath.Jesus Christ, I need to get control of these hormones.
We’re quiet and contemplative for the rest of dinner, and when Wyatt parks in front of the barn to drop me off and do his nightly check on Millie, I wonder what his answer would have been if I’d asked him what I nearly asked him:Whose bullpen is he trying to get into?
I’m just about to do the smart thing and say good night when heshocks me in the alley of the barn by pulling me into him. All the air escapes my lungs as my hands splay out on his chest and he wraps his arms around my shoulders. He presses his face down into my neck and holds me for a moment in the quiet of the barn.
Wyatt and I don’t touch a lot…in fact, it’s probably a bad idea for him to make a habit of it because I was painfully reminded at dinner tonight that it’s been a while since I’ve felt the heat of a man. And if I’m not careful, I’ll misinterpret that naughty look in Wyatt’s eye tonight and think it’s my bullpen he’s set his sights on.
But gosh, he feels too good to pull away from.
His hot breath sends shivers down my neck as he says, “In case I don’t say this enough…thank you.”
“For what exactly?” I murmur, my fingers flexing on his sculpted chest as I inhale deeply and relish in his woodsy, mountain-rain scent.
“For having a baby for me,” he replies simply, and his hand moves up to comb his fingers into my hair. It feels so good and so comforting my knees wobble, my body wanting to just fall into him like I fall into that expensive mattress every night. “I hope you know how much this means to me.”
He releases me but stays close, his hands rubbing my arms as his blue eyes stare down at my face with so much reverence my heart thunders in my chest.
I offer a wobbly smile and croak out, “Don’t mention it, Mountain Man.”
A devastating smile lights up his face as he releases me to head up to my little apartment above the barn. As my shaky, lust-laden legs climb the stairs, I have one single, solitary thought on my mind…something this mountain needs more than anything. Even more than me getting laid…
WeeksPregnant:13
AnimalsontheMountain:4
