May Contain Wine (SWAT Generation 2.0 5)

I smoothed my hand over her face.

“You leaving isn’t the only thing that makes me want a baby with you,” I told her honestly. “There’s more to it.”

“What more?” she pushed.

“I heard you and your mom talking once about how the doctor thought, if you had a pregnancy, it might regulate whatever is wrong with your body. The hormones that make you have those awful periods,” I said.

Her brows rose. “Eavesdropping isn’t becoming.”

I snorted. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. I was on the phone on hold, waiting for my insurance company to settle an issue with my VIN. I was being quiet. It’s not my fault you and your mother entered the room and started talking about it before I could get a chance to tell you I was there.”

Her mouth twitched into a smile. Then she reached for the shampoo.

Her shampoo sat at the top ledge of my shower, and she had to stretch to get it.

I watched her reach it, not bothering to offer her help because I enjoyed the way her body slid against mine as she moved.

When she grasped the bottle in her hand, she poured out so much shampoo that I was worried it’d be too much. But in the end she lathered it all up in her hair, then started on mine with the excess.

I closed my eyes and nearly moaned as she worked her fingers through my hair.

“My doctor thinks that it might help,” she agreed. “But, again, it’s only a thought. Nobody’s really sure why I have the anemia. There’s no logical reason for it. They also thought that birth control would work, and it didn’t.”

I looked at her.

“When you say birth control, are you talking about me using condoms?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes.

“I would never suggest that you cover that pretty little cock,” she teased.

I grinned. “Did you just call my cock little?”

She shrugged.

“Maybe.”

Finishing up with the shower, I eventually got used to the water, but as we were stepping out, she started to laugh.

“Your back is beet red,” she snickered.

“That’s because all the skin is gone, and you’re seeing the muscle underneath,” I teased.

Her snicker turned into a full-blown laugh.

After we got dressed—me in underwear to go to bed and her in sweats—I pulled her into one last kiss.

“I love you. So much,” I told her. “I’ve been wishing I could hear those words from you since forever, it feels like.”

I wanted to pull her back into the bed with me and make love to her all over again.

But when I tried to reach for her, she giggled and stepped out of my reach.

“Go to bed, Louie,” she teased. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

Reluctantly, I did as she asked. Or, at least tried to.

My mind was filled with all kinds of things. Things that were important. Things that could break through my happy little world and shatter it.

Which happened to be why I was awake when it happened.

It was ten minutes after Calloway had left the room that I got the call.

Romeo really had hung himself in his cell this time.

Taking his life and a small piece of my heart with him.Chapter 15

First of all, fix your eyebrows.

-Calloway’s secret thoughts

Calloway

I was busy flipping the bacon when I felt Louis’ hands come to a stop on my hips.

I grinned and placed the tongs on the side of the pot, then turned and wrapped my arms around his neck.

He cooperated and bent down, offering me his mouth before I could even reach for it.

I kissed him hard, then let go of him so I could turn back to my bacon.

“I’m in the either burn it or crisp it stage,” I explained as he chuckled at my abruptness. “I don’t want to burn it.”

Louis and I both liked our bacon crispy. And there was a sweet spot where it was crispy and not burnt, and a narrow window to find it.

So he let me be, walking around behind me to the coffee pot.

It was nearing eleven in the morning, but Louis started every morning off with coffee, regardless of time.

He filled his cup up—he had to be the only man that still used the coffee pot and not a Keurig—and turned to survey me.

I started pulling the bacon off and placing it on the plate lined with paper towels, and didn’t stop to talk until I was done.

“Three eggs?” I asked.

“Four,” he answered, voice rough with sleep.

I cracked open four eggs into the small bowls that I’d been able to find, then went about making him the eggs in the leftover bacon grease.

Personally, I liked mine cooked in butter, but I knew that Louis preferred his in the grease, so I did what I knew he wanted.

Which was funny, because just a month ago, I couldn't care less.

“What’s that smile for?” Louis asked.