Trust Me (One Night with Sole Regret 11)

“I’d start tomorrow if I could,” she admitted. She couldn’t wait to hold a little one that she and Gabe had created together.

“This will require some compromise,” he said. “How about three years? I should be able to figure my future out by then.”

“I thought I was your future.”

“You are,” he said. “But I thought you might like to have a roof over your head and food in your belly.”

She nodded, understanding his need to provide. “I can help with that, you know. How about we wait a year?”

“I’m okay with that if the band is back together and stable.”

“And if it’s not?”

“I don’t know if that will give me enough time to finish my degree and find a good job. I don’t know if I’ll be as stable as I’d like.”

She stroked the soft fuzz that was already starting to grow on the sides of his scalp. “There’s no way to predict that, and if we wait too long, it might never happen. I can easily get a good job. My skills are in high demand. I can work as either an accountant or a business manager. I have plenty of experience in both.”

“We could always play it by ear,” he said.

Their eyes met, and they both laughed. They were a pair of planners, that much was clear. Playing anything by ear was highly unlikely.

“When will you know if Lindsey’s baby is yours? That will likely throw a few more wrenches into our plans.”

“Owen said something about her getting a blood test to determine paternity. We could know within a week.”

“That soon?” Would that give her time to mentally prepare for the possibility that Gabe was going to be a father outside of their proposed timeline? But it was probably best to know as soon as possible so they could plan for a baby’s arrival, even if it wasn’t hers. Could she love a child that Gabe had fathered with another woman? Her heart froze over in ice at the very thought, but if confronted by a perfect tiny human that was half Gabe, she figured it would thaw instantly.

“Do you think I’d feel some sort of attachment to Lindsey if she’s carrying my child?” Gabe asked, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her lower back. “I feel nothing for her. No affection. No animosity. Not even pity. Just a big hazy void of nothing. Maybe a touch of concern, but on her behalf, not mine. I don’t feel like it’s mine. There’s no connection.”

“But you’d feel a connection with the baby if it’s yours, wouldn’t you?” Melanie asked. “Once it’s born, I mean.”

He shrugged. “I assume so. It’s not something I have any experience with.”

“Let’s worry about that bridge when we come to it.” Their eyes met, and they both laughed again. Being planners also made them both worriers. “Let’s try not to worry about it too much in any case.”

“I’ll do my best.”

His hands slid from her lower back to cup her ass. He gave both cheeks a tight squeeze that made her ache for him.

“So now can we use this bed for something other than important discussions of our future?”

“What did you have in mind?” As if she didn’t already know.

“We need to practice our baby-making skills.”

She nipped his lip and straddled his lap. The tip of his cock pressed against her lower belly near the small diamond that dangled from her pierced belly button, and her breath caught as a knot of lust uncoiled within her. Would she ever be able to be in this man’s presence without wanting him buried balls deep inside her? She hoped not.

“I do think I need a refresher course.” She giggled when he tumbled her onto the bed.

“At some point tonight we’ll need to get our luggage out of the car. All of my hardware is in there.”

“I think you’ll manage to get the job done without it.” She wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled him down for a toe-curling kiss. His mouth moved along her jaw toward her ear.

“How do you feel about sex swings?” he asked, his voice low and at almost a whisper.

“Never been in one.”

“With anal attachments. For him and her.”

She laughed. “Only you would come up with something like that.”

“You can’t hold it against me. You inspired the idea.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to try it.”

“We’re going to have to put something in our wedding vows about prototypes.”

She snorted, wondering how she could be turned on and amused at the same time. “About you inventing them or me using them?”

“Both.”

“If we do, I’m not inviting my parents to the ceremony.”

He nipped her earlobe, which sent a spike of pleasure down the back of her neck. “I wanted to elope anyway.”

“I want a real wedding, Gabriel,” she said, not willing to compromise on that particular point.

“Oh no,” he said, grimacing. “She already knows how to get her way by using my full name.”

It was that easy, was it? In that case . . .

“Oh Gabriel.”

“Yes, Melanie?”

“My clit has a date with your tongue.”

He grinned crookedly. “Well, my tongue sure doesn’t want to be late for that.”

Chapter Seven

The next afternoon, Gabe held Melanie’s hand as they made their way to the psych unit of the hospital. He’d been serious when he’d said that Nikki could stay with them, but as they left their cellphones in lockers and were checked for “potentially dangerous objects” before even being allowed on her floor, Gabe wondered if they were getting in over their heads. Maybe Nikki needed more than just a safe place and unconditional love. Maybe she needed intensive therapy. And padded walls.

Nikki came out to meet them in a secure common area. When her gaze landed on Melanie, her expression transformed from misery to elation. Gabe smashed down an unwarranted pang of jealousy when the women embraced. He knew Melanie wasn’t interested in a relationship with Nikki, but he wasn’t so sure that Nikki would abide by that boundary.

“I’m so glad to see you both,” Nikki said, reaching out of the hug she was still sharing with Mel to squeeze Gabe’s arm. “I hear you popped the question.”

Gabe felt his face turn hot. Nikki never beat around the bush. He actually liked that about her. “I did.”

“And you’re not going to back out?”

Melanie’s jaw hardened. “Nikki.”

“No,” Gabe said without hesitation.

“You’d better not. Because if you break her heart—”

“I won’t.”

Melanie leaned back to take a hard look at Nikki. She touched the nearly faded bruise on her cheek—the last visible reminder of what that fucking asshole in New Orleans had done to her. Gabe couldn’t keep his hands from balling into fists as a fresh surge of rage flooded him. That hollow look in her blue eyes—lessened only when her gaze was fixed on Melanie—might not ever fade completely.

“So what have the doctors been saying?” Melanie said, drawing Nikki into a chair and sitting beside her. She held one of Nikki’s hands between hers.

Nikki ducked her head. “Sex addiction and compulsive risk-seeking behavior. Both remnants of what Daddy did to me.”