Page 20 of When She Needs Them Most
Tossing the phone down, I check back on Chelsea. Her face rests in her hands as she leans over the table.
My forehead wrinkles as I frown. “Are you okay?”
She nods. “Yeah, I’m just beat. It’s ridiculous. I haven’t even done anything, and I’m so tired.”
“Okay.” I push back my chair and stand. “Nap, it is.”
“What? No way.” Her head shakes. “I already took one nap. I have too much to do. There’s no way I can sleep right now.”
“You can’t do much until they get back with the tools and things they’re supposed to grab.” I offer her my hands. “It’s probably better to stockpile some rest. That way, you’ll be ready to go as soon as you can.”
Her adorable nose wrinkles, but she nods. “I also need the bathroom something fierce.”
I snort. It’s been kind of a recurring theme, and with that big ol’ baby belly? It’s not hard to understand why.
She scoots her chair back, and I give her a tug.
“Thanks,” she says once she’s on her feet. “Sorry, I know I’m heavy.” She’s really not, and it’s not like I deadlifted her.
“Not even close.” I smile as she runs her hand over her stomach.
She’s in a long-sleeve cotton dress that she changed into earlier, and it makes the baby belly even more pronounced. I spent a fair amount of time running my hand over it while she slept earlier, trying to catch the baby moving. The pictures of her ex were helpful. They gave me a good idea of the type of guy she’s attracted to. I’m also good with computers and have curly brown hair. In other words, I could pass for the baby’s father, which led to me maladaptive daydreaming that I’d met her first…something that lasted for the entirety of her nap.
It’s not like I would have killed the guy to get him out of the way—I have some limits—but I’m not particularly sad he’s dead, either.
It’s not my fault that I was born with psychopathic traits.
This is how the universe made me.
Chelsea looks up at me with her thick lips pushed together, and I remember she needs a bathroom visit.
“Come on. Bathroom, then we rest for a bit. You don’t have to sleep, but it won’t hurt to get off your feet and relax.”
She nods, and I fight the urge to nuzzle my nose to hers.
If I burned down Mrs. Wilson’s house, I’m sure the old woman would be happy with the insurance payout. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about that old house from states away.
Chelsea would have no choice but to stay with us.
It would probably be a bad idea to act on those intrusive thoughts, so I lead her to the downstairs bathroom instead.
Chelsea comes into the room to find me stretched out on the bed, waiting for her. I had a brief argument with Sky about lying on the floor, but the mutt never listens to me. As such, she’s stretched out across the end of the mattress like she owns the place.
Chelsea smiles and stops to scratch the furry beast before eyeing the bed.
I hop up, gesturing to the middle of the mattress. “I thought I might lie down with you?”
It will make things significantly easier if I don’t have to sneak in after she’s asleep, but I will if I have to. There’s no way I’m prying myself away from her right now.
Her head tilts, like she’s trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing.
Trust me, beautiful. I have no idea, either.
She finally nods, and I feel like I can breathe. Bending over, I tug back the comforter and toss it down toward Sky. Chelsea slides past me and crawls onto the bed before settling in the middle.
I pull up the blanket and lie on top of it, because I do have some manners, even if they’re few and far between. Chelsea rolls around a bit, like she’s trying to get comfortable.
“You need a pregnancy pillow.” I grab one of the bed pillows from behind my head and, using my feet, lean up enough that I can pass it under the blanket. “Try this between your knees. It should help with your alignment.”
