Page 3 of Santa Baby
But if she’s aching for love—if she’s thinking about having a baby—I don’t have time to move slow. I can’t risk some other motherfucker swooping in and trying to take what belongs to me.
If she wants a baby for Christmas, it’ll be my kid growing in her belly.
And I have two days to make it happen.
“Hey, Lachlan?”
I spin on my heel to see her standing in the doorway to my office, her hands locked together in front of her. She avoids looking directly at me, instead staring at a spot beside my head.
“What’s wrong?” I growl, far more harshly than I intended.
She visibly flinches, making my fucking stomach twist itself into knots. “I don’t feel well,” she whispers. “I think I need to leave early.”
Fuck.
I’m across the office to her in two seconds, shoving her list into my pocket on the way. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I stop in front of her, so close I feel her trembling against me. My arms ache to feel her in them, but I resist the urge to drag her up against my chest. Instead, I reach out, gently placing my hand against her forehead to check for fever. “You don’t have a fever.”
“I just don’t feel well.” She still won’t look at me. “Is it okay if I go? I've finished everything you asked me to do.”
I hesitate, not sure if she genuinely doesn’t feel well or if she’s upset and running. Either way, I’m not letting her leave here alone. If she’s sick, she shouldn’t be taking care of herself. And if she’s upset, well, she shouldn’t be alone.
I have a feeling she’s upset and running, though.
Call it instinct or intuition or something else, but she gave me her list and it made her feel vulnerable. She’s trying to escape the way that feels. I don’t think vulnerable is something she doeswillingly. But it’s time she learns that she’s safe with me. She will always be safe with me.
“Get your stuff,” I rasp, my heart in my throat at the thought of teaching her. Fucking her isn’t the only fantasy I’ve had. God no. When it comes to her, I’ve fantasized about every goddamn thing under the sun—holding her while she sleeps, cooking for her, watching stupid movies with her…teaching her to let herself be loved. Every single thing makes my cock ache and my heart pound. It all sounds like heaven to me.
If I have a Christmas wish, it’s this woman. She’s what I want. Her in my arms, in my bed, in my life.
Make it happen, Santa, I pray silently.If you listen to old motherfuckers like me, do me a solid and don’t let me fuck this up.
I grab my shit and then follow Caitlin out of my office into hers, watching from the doorway while she grabs her stuff. When she turns around and sees me standing there, her eyes grow wide.
“Are those your keys?” I nod at the keyring in her hand.
She nods, her brows furrowed.
I stride forward and pluck them from her hand before sliding them into my pocket. She won’t be needing them, at least not today.
“W-what are you doing? I need those.”
“Not today, you don’t. I’m taking you home.”
“That’s…really not necessary, Lachlan. I can drive myself,” she protests.
“I’m driving you, pretty baby.”
She stares at me for a long, silent moment, her green eyes narrowed, and then she mumbles something under her breath and tries to squeeze past me. I let her get almost all the way around me before I wedge my body into her path, trapping her between me and the doorframe.
The heat of her body sears me everywhere we touch, sending electricity racing through me. Goddamn, she’s so soft and warm.
“Are you pissed about me taking you home because you’re trying to run from me, Caitlin?”
“Why would I be running from you?” she whispers, her voice shaking.
My lips brush her crown. “Good question.”
“I’m n-not running from anything, Lachlan.”