“You should invite Virginia to come over next Sunday,” I tell him. “Now, she would serve you without complaint. She’s already used to it.”
“Give it up, kitten,” he tells me, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the lounger to indicate he’s ignoring me now.
I shake my head at Sin. “Why is he such a pain in the ass?”
“It’s in his blood,” Sin answers.
Rafe still blithely ignores the fact that Virginia clearly cares about him. When he first informed me he was taking a break from dating, I didn’t believe him. I figured it would last a couple weeks, at most. I was glad he was trying, though. A lot had happened to him in a short time on a personal level. Not only did I leave him and get engaged immediately, but Sin killed that Marlena girl he liked and the ex he had all that history with. I understood that he felt like he needed a breather—I just didn’t think he could actually give up women for any length of time. I don’t even think he completely gave up women when we were trying to date, though I’ve never asked. I really don’t want to know. It doesn’t matter at this point.
He followed through, though. To my knowledge, there have been zero scantily clad platinum blondes hanging from his arm. He still flirts when he goes out, of course. I saw that firsthand when Rafe convinced me that we needed to go out and be adults. We asked Virginia to babysit Skylar and went out with Rafe to a club he likes. The whole time we were out, I kept thinking about how much I would prefer to be sitting on the couch at home between Sin’s legs, wearing my robe instead of real clothes, with Skylar napping on her Boppy pillow in my lap.
Eventually we will implement date nights so we can spend some time together baby-free, but for now, we like our family routine. And I think we’re both definitely over going to Rafe’s clubs. I was over those the first time I stepped foot inside one. If no one is feeding me, why am I even dressing up? Hell, why am I even showing up?
I guess maybe it’s more fun if you’re not pregnant and you can actually drink, but for me, it’s a big no thanks.
We incorporated the Chicago Morelli tradition of having family dinners every Sunday, though. I initially suggested it because I was afraid Rafe might be lonely. He would never admit it, but I thought since he’s taking a breather from women for the first time in his adult life, we should do what we can to fill the void. Then it just turned out to be really nice. On Sundays, we sleep in at home, then we get ready and come straight to Rafe’s house. We’ll have a light lunch, play by the pool, catch up on my pregnancy if we’ve been out of touch that week—whatever we want, the important thing is we spend time together.
The main difference for us, though, is that we don’t have dinner at Rafe’s house—we have it at Rafe’s restaurant. Virginia always works Sundays, so it feels like a way of including her in our Sunday family day, even if she is the one serving our food.
Now that Rafe has shown he can abstain from fucking everything in sight without incentive, though, I’m starting to see more potential in him as someone’s mate. I literally didn’t think he could do it before, and I didn’t want him to cheat on Virginia and break her heart, but now I have seen he is capable. His break has to end eventually, and I’m hoping he ends it with her.
I already asked her to be a bridesmaid in our wedding. While we were still trying to figure out when to get married, I stopped at a bridal store. Seeing all the beautiful gowns, veils and tiaras, I realized whether we had a big or small we
dding, the day I marry this wonderful man, I want to feel like a princess. I would marry him in a tacky Vegas chapel or a common courthouse, but it’s a celebration, and as such, I’d like to do it in front of our family and friends. So, we agreed to wait until after baby Nicholas is born, that way our whole family (at the moment) can be present. Sin is still planning to put two more babies in me eventually, but I’m just getting settled in at my new school right now, plus soon I’ll be juggling two babies. It’s a lot, so I think we will wait a little while before we start having bouncing baby Sinclairs.
Plus, I need to actually become a Sinclair first.
Professor Laurel Sinclair. Yep, that’s gonna be perfect.
53
Rafe
I’m struck be a sense of déjà vu as I look over at Laurel, her hair lighter and wavier after playing in the pool this afternoon. Her sunkissed skin glows, probably from the sun she got today and the “pregnancy glow,” if that’s a real thing. She’s wearing a flowy white dress with the pink straps from her swimsuit visible, so I can’t see the bump as clearly as I could when she was in the bikini. Now that her bump is visible, it feels more real. There is physical evidence of my child growing inside her, and it’s fucking crazy.
Then there’s Sin’s arm draped over her shoulders, casually marking his possession. The baby inside might be half mine, but the host belongs entirely to Sin. Laurel is so accustomed to his arm around her by now that her hand absently caresses it as she peruses the dessert menu.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, she says, “No dessert today.”
“What? Why?” Sin asks, since she always gets dessert on Sundays.
“I’m getting fat,” she states.
Sin’s eyebrows rise. “You’re too smart to say dumb shit like that.”
“I can’t button my jeans anymore,” she informs him solemnly.
“So we’ll get you those maternity ones. You’re pregnant, for Christ’s sake. Of course you were going to get to a point where you couldn’t button your jeans.”
“Yes, the fat point,” she agrees.
“I don’t want to hear that bullshit again. You’re gorgeous. Your body is perfect. If your jeans make you doubt that for even a minute, I’ll throw the fucking things in the garbage.”
Laurel grins, leaning against his side and hugging him. “I love that you think you can punish my jeans for being mean to me.”
“Damn right I can,” he mutters, his arm around her tightening.
She glows some more and leans in to steal a kiss. “You’re the best.”