More Than Need You (More Than Words 2)

But I get it. I probably shouldn’t get my hopes up, either, unless she’s truly going to marry me.

I slam the sock drawer shut and stomp back to bed.

Five minutes later, Britta emerges in a soft, dark cotton nightie that says LITTLE BLACK DRESS and slides between the sheets next to me. “Thank you for understanding.”

That she needed orgasm? That I couldn’t touch her? That she’s not ready to wear my ring? Probably all of it.

I can’t be mad at her. I did next to nothing to accommodate her in the past. I have to give her everything I can now. “You’re welcome.”

With a light kiss on my cheek, she turns out the light and rolls over, dipping into a deep rhythm of sleep between one moment and the next.

I stare at the ceiling for a long time. Tonight notched the game up again. I’m more determined than ever to come out on top and win Britta back. I will make use of every single one of my remaining forty-seven-ish days so it’s a foregone conclusion that she’ll be mine.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

We all sleep in the next morning. It’s not uncommon for me to hold a private open house on a day like this, but Maxon and I both agree we have a lot going on in our personal lives, and this is one Sunday we’ll live without the potential new leads and lookie-loos.

Britta and I fix breakfast in companionable silence. There’s an easiness between us that wasn’t there before last night. But awareness also simmers in the air. She glances at me often. I see her smile my way more.

Maybe I should stop myself, but I can’t not pile on the incidental touching. A caress of her shoulder. A hand at the small of her back when she’s reaching up for something in the cabinet. A brush of her hair off her cheek. Yes, I’m pushing my luck. And I suspect where this sort of thing will lead eventually. But I want her to feel adored. I want to feel close to her. Is that so bad?

“Angel, I think we need to get Jamie a real bed.”

“We could go to the house and pick up his crib. I need to check on my houseplants and my little garden—”

“Don’t you think he’s too big for a crib? He’s almost as tall as the mattress. He climbs out of it. What’s the point?”

“You mean…a big-boy bed?” She looks distressed.

I understand the resistance. She doesn’t want her baby to grow up.

I give her a gentle smile and caress her cheek. “Yeah. Let’s go out today. I want to give him a bed he can grow into.”

“You’re right.” She concedes after a long moment. “Let me get ready. I told Keeley I would call her. She texted me earlier and said she needed a minute of my time for wedding stuff. I should be ready about an hour after breakfast.

“Perfect.” And if she’s getting us one step closer to our wedding, even better.

After pancakes and eggs, Britta disappears by the pool, phone pressed to her ear. Jamie and I have a ball trying to clean both him and the dishes at once. I put him in his room with his toys to make sure he can’t get free, at least while I hop in the shower. I’m climbing out with a towel wrapped around my waist when Britta sweeps into the steamy space and her eyes fall on me.

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t—”

“It’s fine.” I shrug. Does she think I mind her seeing me naked? “I’m just about done in here.”

But if she’s going to linger in the bathroom for makeup and hair, I can stand here—barely covered—for a while.

As I trim my beard, she doesn’t hurry through her morning routine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her take twenty minutes simply to brush her hair and put it in a ponytail. But I totally notice her gaze sliding over me again and again. If I thought she wouldn’t freak out, I would lose the towel and stalk across the bathroom, maybe lift her up and spread her legs so I could have my wicked way with her.

But I can tell by her furtive glances that she’s not ready.

Finally, I hear Jamie getting antsy in his room. The sounds jolt us out of our mutual eye-fuck-fest, and we start dashing around to toss on clothes, grab our little man, and head out the door.

Big-boy bed is first. Britta sniffles as I purchase the double-sized bunk beds. I tell her I’m buying it bigger in case he ever wants a friend to sleep over, but I’m really thinking ahead. Someday, she’s going to want more children. I’m sure of it. Just like I’m sure I’ll be the one to give them to her. Our sons can bunk together. It’s something Maxon and I did when we were little, and I loved that simple time before our dad tried to poison our minds against one another.

After we arrange delivery of the bed on Tuesday, we run errands—checking on Britta’s house, then groceries, dry cleaners, pharmacy. I notice she isn’t picking up birth control pills. I haven’t noticed her taking them anymore.

What does that say? That she and butthole have had a next to nonexistent sex life? Or that since she’s getting married soon, she’s gone off them so she can get pregnant right away?

I’m searching for the right words to broach the topic when we get back in the car. It’s none of my business—yet. Before I can find a subtle way to bring up my observation, my phone rings.

The display tells me it’s Maxon. “Hey, bro.”

“Hey,” he says over the line. “Where are you guys?”

“On our way back to the house with groceries.”

“Good. We’re headed that way. I’ve got a surprise for you. Meet you there in thirty?”

I didn’t really want company. I was hoping to talk to Britta. But Maxon on a mission is an unstoppable force.

I hold in a sigh. “Sure.”

When we pull up about twenty minutes later, we settle Jamie with a snack and unpack all the groceries. I glance out one of the kitchen windows to see Maxon’s SUV appear in the side yard. He and Keeley step out of the vehicle, wearing big smiles.

“They look happy,” Britta remarks.

I noticed that, too. What the hell is going on? Did they elope or something?

Then the car’s rear door opens and the last person I expected to see steps out.

“Harlow!” I shove the eggs in the fridge and take off running.

I haven’t seen my baby sister in three years. She’s funny, acerbic, and sharp as hell. And she’s definitely more grown-up than the last time I saw her. But it makes sense. She was an angsty undergrad finishing her degree when she left Hawaii with my parents to move back to San Diego. Now she’s twenty-five, completing her master’s, and engaged to be married—to some guy I know nothing about.

As my sister pulls a rolling carry-on from the backseat, I reach her side and hug her tight. “What are you doing here? This is a real surprise.”

“Hi, Griff. I’ve barely stepped out of the car, and you’re already trying to interrogate me.” She rolls her eyes. “I want to say hi to your way better half. How are you, Britta?” Harlow holds out her arms to my angel.

Britta steps into the sisterly embrace with a smile. “I’m good. It’s been a long time. You look fantastic.”

Harlow does. Her dark hair is in some haphazard twist that shows off the varying tones of browns, reds, and caramels. She’s looking fit in a T-shirt that reads I’M NOT TRYING TO BE DIFFICULT. IT JUST COMES NATURALLY. Truer words were never spoken. Her white shorts fit like a second skin and her wedges are beige, high, and fairly impractical.

That’s my sister.

“Thanks. You look as beautiful as ever,” Harlow says to Britta with a laugh. “If you weren’t so sweet, I’d really hate you.”

My angel giggles in return.

“Come on in,” I invite my sister. “Come meet Jamie.”

I’m so proud to introduce my son to her. There’s a swell in my chest and a lightness in my heart. I know nothing is settled or official, but I’ve made progress.