Savoring Mila (Rockers' Legacy Book 3)

“Funny,” she sassed. “And then you would have been a bloody mess on my bedroom floor. Because my dad would have killed you.”

“Only if he caught me, babe. Only if he caught me.”

She huffed, but I could practically hear the smile in it. When I pulled into our driveway, the huff turned into a soft gasp, and I put the SUV in park so I could turn to watch her take in our home.

“You bought this?” she whispered in awe, turning those gray orbs on me in wonder. “This house… It’s been on the market for almost two years. I would sometimes walk by this place on my way home from school and daydream of living here.”

“Wish I’d known that before I had Aunt Emmie buy this place. She sent me a bunch of intel on all the houses for sale in this town, and I fell in love with it as soon as I saw the first picture.” I leaned over the console and kissed her temple. “Aunt Em got me a good deal on it, but not before she pissed off the sellers a few times. If I’d known you loved this place, I would have told her to give them whatever they wanted for it.”

“Is there still a big pool in the backyard?”

she asked, her eyes dancing with excitement.

“It’s there, but it needs some work. I was going to wait until spring to have it renovated, but if you want to use it sooner rather than later, I’ll call someone this week and get it taken care of.”

“You don’t have to—”

I kissed her, cutting off her protests. “It’s already done,” I murmured against her mouth. “Are you hungry?”

She licked her bottom lip, moaning when she tasted me there. “Starving,” she breathed.

My cock throbbed, but I mentally told him to cool his jets. “For food, baby,” I clarified, and she sighed unhappily.

“I could eat.”

Grinning, I straightened then reached for my door. When I heard her opening her own, I turned to glare at her. “No. I’ll help you out.”

She rolled her eyes but stayed in her seat until I came around to assist her. If she fell because I wasn’t there to hold her up, I would lose my damn mind. This chick was everything to me, and I couldn’t breathe when I thought of something happening to her—and now our babies. Taking her hands, I guided her out of the SUV and kept one hand at her back as we walked into the house.

The garage was still loaded with boxes needing to be unpacked, but the SUV was too long to put in there. Mila’s car would fit perfectly, however, so I would get the space cleaned out for her soon. When I told her that as I unlocked the front door, she opened her mouth to protest, but anything she might have said died on her tongue when we walked into the house.

“It’s beautiful in here,” she murmured in awe as she glanced around. Walking away from me, she drifted from one room to another on the first floor. “This place is bigger than I imagined. I’ve seen all the pictures from the real estate agent’s website, but they didn’t do it justice.”

“Sorry it’s so bare,” I said as I followed her. “But I thought you would want to decorate each room, or at least we could do it together. I want a piece of you in every room, babe.”

She turned quickly, and automatically, I shot out my hands to steady her in case she got dizzy. But her eyes remained focused when she looked up at me with her clear gray gaze. “You really meant all of that earlier, didn’t you?”

With a frustrated growl, I grasped her hips and carefully pulled her into me. “I mean everything I tell you, my Mila. I will only ever tell you the truth. There will never be a lie that leaves my lips when it comes to you.” I kissed the tip of her nose, then lifted her into my arms.

Squealing, she wrapped her arms around my neck and laid her head on my shoulder. “Can we check out the bedroom now?” she asked with a sexy little pout.

“After I feed you, babe.” I carried her into the kitchen, where boxes still littered the floor. I was going to have to do a major clean so she didn’t trip over anything. “Until I get this shit put away, I don’t want you walking around in here without me.” I sat her on the counter of the island and opened the fridge.

All I really had to eat were frozen meals, but there were some sandwich fixings and a few veggies. I grabbed everything I needed and set it beside her before grabbing a knife and a plate. When I turned back around, she was already taking slices of cheese out of the container and stuffing it into her mouth hungrily.

Smirking because I’d been right to hold off on sating her other hunger, I started putting us together a quick snack. “Pickles?” I asked, pulling out a few for my own.

She made a disgusted face, shaking her head. “Yuck.”

“Hates pickles. Noted.” I sliced the tomato and added it to both sandwiches. “My sister craved pickles when she was pregnant with my niece and nephew. There’s this ice cream shop near her house that caters to pregnant women’s craving. One has dill pickles already mixed into the vanilla.”

“Please shut up about pickles,” she whispered, suddenly breathing through her mouth.

Realizing she was nauseated, I dropped everything and reached for her. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“The pickles,” she moaned. “I can smell them, and they’re making me sick.”

Quickly, I tossed the sandwich with pickles in the trash and then dumped the entire jar into the sink. Running the cold water, I turned on the disposal and tossed in a few of the lemon balls to clear up any lingering smell before washing my hands.