Sex On The Seats (Love After Midnight Book 4) by Elise Faber (most inspirational books .txt) 📗

in love with her, I’d fallen hard and deep and fast, and I knew it was the absolute best thing I’d ever had in my life. The only thing that would make it better—literally, the only thing—would be if my parents were around to meet her.

They would love her just as intensely.

And Niki deserved to have parents like I’d had.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t resurrect the dead or change people who were despicable. I could, however, love Niki, and we could build our family around us.

Family that was coming over to her house for dinner.

She pushed to her feet, crossed to me, coming into my arms with a pinched expression that had her winged brows drawing into a V.

I brushed my finger over them, smoothing the frown away. “What is it?”

“I’m nervous,” she said, wrinkling her nose in a way that had me aching to tumble her onto the bed and make love to her until she forgot all about being worried. “How stupid is that? It’s not like I need to impress them.” She did that thing with her hair again. “Did you know I took a break this morning and scrubbed the grout in the bathroom with a toothbrush?”

I guided her toward the stairs. “I, for one, approve.”

She made a sound of disgust. “It was already clean. I did my whirlwind of that yesterday. I don’t think this place has been so neat and organized and scrubbed since I moved in.”

“I, for one—oof!” I said, busting into laughter when she smacked me.

“You’re not funny.”

“Except, I am.”

A huff. “Archer,” she warned.

“It’ll be fine,” I said. “Your place needed the cleaning, though”—I kissed the tip of her nose as we reached the first floor—“I told you, I’d help you with that.”

“It’s my place—”

“My mess,” I said, finishing the statement she said every time she caught me cleaning something in her place. “Again.” I cupped both of her cheeks, tilted her head up so I could slant my lips over hers. “But I don’t mind helping the woman I love,” I murmured. “In fact, I enjoy it because it means that I take something off her plate when she’s already managing a lot.”

She’d finished a big corporate job the week before and then had been roped into a government assignment she couldn’t talk to me about. All I knew was that it had meant she hardly left her office for close to three days.

Then she’d had a breakthrough and things had calmed down a bit and—

My thoughts trailed to a halt when I caught a glimpse of the expression on her face, the stiffness in her body.

“What is it?” I asked.

Her lips parted, pressed flat. Parted again.

I mentally backtracked through what I’d said.

Working a lot. Not minding helping her. The woman . . . I loved.

Oh, fucking hell. I hadn’t meant to say it like that. I’d had a whole plan to introduce it slowly, to get her used to the idea of how well we work together, how good we were as a couple. And then I’d planned to tell her.

Maybe while she was handcuffed to my headboard, so she couldn’t escape.

I certainly hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

Especially when it turned her into Statue Niki.

“I . . . um . . .” I wasn’t going to take it back. I couldn’t, not when it was the truth. “Are you okay?”

Still, she played a statue.

“Niki.”

She inhaled, but her eyes were still far away, her face pale, and she was trembling.

“Baby?” I asked.

Continuing to breathe, but still not out of the fog, her every muscle taut and rigid.

“Are you okay?” I whispered, smoothing my hand over her hair.

She didn’t unstick, exactly, but a sound emerged from her throat, at least. “I—”

Fuck. I’d broken her. Surprised her and reset her brain, and now I needed to find a way to melt the ice in her veins to make the panic she was certainly feeling subside, so I could go back to winning her over in increments. I rested my hand on her shoulder, slid it in, and stroked my thumb up and down her throat. She was still tense, but she hadn’t bustled me out the front door, hadn’t run upstairs and locked herself into her office. So, that was something. But how to snap her out of this, to get her to push through the fog? What could I possibly say to—

“Bolognese?” I blurted.

She blinked, head jerking, eyes widening. “What?” she whispered.

Apparently, now I was finally speaking her love language. “Bolognese,” I said again.

Her mouth opened, a breath sliding out. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” I said. “I . . .” I sighed. “Are you okay?”

She blinked, shoulders rising and falling on a breath, confusion being replaced by uncertainty. “Did you mean it?”

I inhaled sharply.

“Because if you didn’t—”

The doorbell rang.

“Niki—”

She spun toward the front hall, hurrying away from me as though it were her job and she was going to get the best employee evaluation ever, twisting the handle and opening it before I had the chance to say anything further.

Kace and Brooke, Iris and Brent, Hayden and Anabelle all poured into the house, their arms full of bags and bottles.

It was the first time they’d all taken the night off, leaving the bar in the hands of Bobby’s other employees, and for Kace, taking a much-needed Friday off.

“Sorry we’re late,” Iris said, passing Niki a bakery box before giving her a one-armed hug, “I had to pry Brooke off her computer.”

“I was in the middle of a scene!” Brooke complained, hugging Niki as soon as Iris released her.

“As much as I love your books, Archer promised to cook for us.” She pointed at her belly, curved gently with new life inside. “There’s a baby in here who needs some of the food that Niki keeps tormenting us about.”

Niki, for one, appeared shell-shocked.

Whether that was from the sudden noise and conversation or my slip of the tongue—or both—I couldn’t be sure. Either way, she was still a statue, although a living, breathing one.

So