“What about shower singing?”
“Oh, you’re going to have to learn to live with my shower singing,” he said sanctimoniously. “There are some things on which I cannot compromise.”
A small grin crept up my face.
“Like Michael Bublé,” he said.
The grin disappeared. “What—no!”
“Deal with it.” He picked up my purse and cocked his head toward the door with a smile. “Shall we?”
I tried to keep my composure, crossing my arms with stubborn hesitation. But after just a few seconds of hearing him hum Come Fly With Me, winking absurdly all the while, I cracked and followed him happily into my new room.
Celebratory sex was in order. It was the best ever. We lay in a heap in the mattress, grinning up at the ceiling and holding hands.
After a moment, I rolled up onto my elbow. “I’m big enough to admit it, you were right about the bed. Well worth the strain.”
He laughed and tugged me closer, running gentle fingers up and down my stomach. “I’ll make sure to keep it worth your while.” A slight frown creased his forehead as he lowered down and planted a kiss on my belly button. “I don’t get it. Where are you keeping this baby?”
“It’s insanely small, Marcus. We won’t be able to see him or her for a long time.”
He bit his lip and seemed to consider this as he continued stroking. “How soon until the baby can hear us?”
My head fell back against the mattress as my mind raced back through the literature from the clinic I’d been reading on the plane. “Some doctors say as early as sixteen weeks. We really need to get one of those baby books, so we know what to expect.”
He nodded seriously, keeping his eyes fixed on my flat stomach. “That’s perfect.”
My eyebrows shot up with a quirky smile. “And why is that?”
“Because I’m hosting a fundraiser gala for the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra in late March and I want to be sure the baby can hear it. Maybe I should push it back to April just to be sure.”
A huge smile spread across my face, and I pounced on him the next second, wrapping my arms around his neck as I perched on his back like a monkey. “You’re a real sweetheart, you know that, Marcus Taylor? Even if you do snore.”
“Nobody has ever said I snore.”
“It’s why I’m here, darling, to tell you the truth even when no one else will.”
“Is that right?”
Sensing trouble, I tried to crawl down, but his hands shot up, and he held me firmly in place, ignoring my squeals and shrieks of laughter as he got to his feet. I leaned back as far as I dared, hoping to just fall off his back, but he compensated easily, imprisoning me with a smile.
“Miss White, if you’re going to be living in this house, I think it’s time you learn some of the house rules.”
“All right.” I wrapped my legs tighter around his waist and held on for dear life. “Let me have them.”
“Rule number one: there’s no insulting the master of the house. If you find yourself wanting to make a snide comment, I kindly suggest you don’t.”
I buried my face in his neck and giggled. “Understood.”
He started walking us toward the bathroom, and I scrambled up to get higher on his back. “If you find yourself unable to keep such comments to yourself, you must face the consequences with silence and poise.”
“What? What consequences?”
I screamed aloud as he backed us into the shower, turning on a spray of water before it had the chance to heat up. He quickly turned around, using my body as a shield against the icy jets and laughed like a villain as I tried in vain to escape.
“Don’t worry, I heard that you’re immune to the cold! Just think of it as the beach in Washington!”
“Marcus! Come on!” I wriggled around and stretched out my fingers, but just before I could flip the dial to Hot, he took a step away, biting my thigh for good measure. “Hey!” I screamed, breathless with laughter. “You know, cold water is bad for the baby!”