She looks up at me and blinks as she chews her strawberry, then swallows. “Glasses? Yes. I don’t wear them often though. They make it easier to read small print, but they’re ugly.”
“Perfect.”
This seems to amuse her. “Why is that perfect?”
“I’m picturing something in my head, and you are definitely wearing glasses.” I had no idea I was into nerds, but I’m getting behind this fantasy fast. Laurel naked but for her glasses and messy bun, tummy down on a desk, my hand caressing her bare ass right before I fuck her. Yes, I like that a lot. I’m going to remodel one of the spare bedrooms so she has her own office.
“When we were in Chicago over Easter, didn’t you tell me you wanted to be a professor? That’s what you’re going to school for?”
Laurel nods her head, uncapping her water bottle. “Yep. Someday. I still have quite a bit of school before I get to that point, but that’s definitely where I want to end up. A tenured position, ideally.”
“Do you have your heart set on a school you would want to teach at?”
“Nope. I’m keeping an open mind. It will be easier to find a position I’m happy with that way.”
I can think of several positions she would be happy with, but they all involve her naked, and none of them have anything to do with college.
Fuck. I shift as my cock stirs and I try to clear the images of Laurel out of my mind. I look back at the ducks, but somehow that doesn’t even help. Horny little bastards. I’ll never lo
ok at a duck the same way again.
“I should have Juanita make us a male duck à l’orange for dinner one of these nights.”
I don’t know whether Laurel will be tender-hearted and horrified, or amused, but she cracks up and I’m relieved. “Yes. That’ll show them. Just no female duck à l’orange.”
“I’ll interrogate the duck first, make sure we get a guilty one.”
Laurel grins. “Please do. Stopping duck rape, one dinner at a time.”
I shake my head, teasing her, “I knew you weren’t a vegetarian, but I didn’t know you were a beast.”
“Please. I’m basically an activist. They should learn to keep their little duck dicks behind their feathers and I wouldn’t cook them up and serve them with roasted veggies.”
“You are ruthless.”
“Nah, I’m sweet, remember?” As soon as the words slip out of her mouth, she loses her smile. She realizes she just openly referred to when we spent those few days together, and due to whatever complications she sees now, she doesn’t want that.
I let it go so she keeps having a good time, but it’s too late. I haven’t actually spent time with Laurel in the few days she has been here, but now that I’m in her company again, I am absolutely enchanted. Now I remember how much I enjoyed her—why I made the decision to invite her to Vegas while Vince dealt with listing the house he inherited to begin with.
None of that had to happen. Vince didn’t even have to be here to sell the house. He had no reason to step foot back in Vegas, but Easter was over and I couldn’t stay in Chicago. I needed a reason for Laurel to come back with me, and the only one available to me was Vince dealing with his inheritance.
It certainly wasn’t in my plan, and I’m still not entirely sure how to feel about it, but one thing is for sure: now that Laurel is carrying my baby, I have a significantly better reason to keep her in Vegas.
29
Laurel
It’s well past dinner time when Rafe brings me back to Sin’s place. My stomach sinks with probably unfounded guilt when I see Sin’s car is parked in the driveway. I had been hoping he wouldn’t be home yet. I wanted to get here first, that way I wouldn’t feel like I had abandoned him here alone and gone off with Rafe. I hate feeling like I missed out on time I could have spent with Sin—which is a little alarming, because I only have a few more days with him. If I feel guilty and bereft that I’ve missed—at most—hours with him, how am I going to feel when I’m back east and I never see him again?
Shoving those thoughts down into the Pit of Unthinkable Thoughts, I try to give Rafe a hug in the car so I can go in the house alone, but when I go to lean in and thank him for a nice day, his door is open and he’s already getting out of the car.
It’s not my house, so I guess I can’t tell him not to come in. Maybe he even needs to talk to Sin, for all I know. Their business connection makes it more difficult to navigate the romantic rivals part of all this, so I try to let them sort that out amongst themselves. Bracing myself for another round, I climb out of the car. Rafe stands in front of it, holding my bag of books and waiting for me.
“I can carry those,” I tell him, reaching for the bag.
“Nope. I got it.”
He may be carrying the bag, but I’m carrying all the guilt. I feel it gathering in my gut with every step I take closer to the front door. I don’t know whether or not it will be unlocked, but the knob turns easily when I twist it.