“I know a great pizza parlor. They serve New York-style authentic pizza pie. And after we eat, we can take in a few of the nearby attractions,” he offered with a smile.
“You’re on,” she told him. “Let me use the restroom and I’ll be ready to go.”
They ate really fantastic pizza, rode bumper cars—though Rory inserted himself between her and other drivers to keep her from getting hit too hard—and played in the arcade until closing.
On the ride home, Shay snuggled close to Rory’s side, listening to the romantic music playing low on the radio as the fresh air blew through the open windows. Even at this hour the traffic was stop-and-go. “You’re not a bad date.”
He chuckled. “Does that mean I get laid when we get home?”
“Hmm, possibly. Or I could do you now,” she said, laying a hand on the bulge in his pants.
He covered her hand with his. “As enticing as that sounds, I think I’ll wait until we’re home. That way I can take my time, and there’ll be no pesky distractions like honking horns or citations for indecent exposure.”
Shay laughingly agreed and moved her hand from his crotch to lie on his hard, muscular thigh. As they rode, they spoke of everything and nothing in general, and Shay felt like she was part of a normal, everyday couple. It was nice.
When they entered the house and Rory locked the door behind them, instead of heading upstairs as Shay expected, he diverted them to the living room and went and programmed the stereo. “Let’s dance,” he said, holding out a hand.
Shay moved into his arms, and they drifted around the room as one slow song after another played. It was the perfect ending to a perfect evening. Rory languidly stroked her spine as they danced. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tucked her face on his shoulder, sighing contentedly when he rested his cheek on her head.
This togetherness, this sense of oneness was what she’d always thought of when she used to try and imagine herself married. Sex was great, but a woman needed more than a man who could burn between the sheets. She needed a man who knew when and how to cherish her. And when, she thought, to drive her crazy to keep her from getting complacent.
For her, Rory was that man, even if he did have a habit of occasionally turning furry.
They drifted around the dimly lit room, and as the moon rode high in the sky, they made their way up the stairs. A trail of clothes marked their passing. When they reached the bed, they were skin to skin.
Their loving was long and languid. Rory surprised Shay by staying in his skin. Only the golden glow of his eyes revealed he was as affected as she. And when they found their release, it was he who called out her name. Afterward, he held her close to his heart, his arm draped possessively, protectively around her. Shay fell asleep, feeling safe, secure, and most of all, loved.
The next morning after breakfast and another cup of that disgusting tea, they rode into Fort Knox to hunt for SUVs. When Shay found a few she liked and Rory agreed with the price, he called in one of his men knowledgeable about vehicles to make sure the engines were sound and there were no major problems with the SUVs before finalizing the purchase.
Shay mentioned that her clothes were getting snug at the waist. That sparked a trip to the mall, where Rory loaded her down with enough items to last through two pregnancies. Glancing at some of the tentlike shirts, Shay sincerely hoped she wouldn’t get that big.
Over lunch at a local steakhouse, Rory said, “We need to go next weekend and pack up your condo and bring your things here. While we’re there, we can tell your parents about us.”
Part of the lemonade Shay was sipping went down the wrong pipe. Once she finished coughing, Shay pinned Rory with a glare. “There’s no need. My stuff is already in storage. Between setting up Kiesha’s stores, going to California for six weeks, and then the contract with you, I knew I’d be away for a long period of time. I made arrangements for a moving company to pack up all my things and store them, and hired a management company to sublet my condo. So there’s no rush to gather my belongings.” Or tell my parents about us.
“And your parents?” he questioned.
“I’ll tell them, eventually,” she muttered.
Rory’s narrow-eyed gaze had her hunching her shoulders again. “You do realize in another few months you’ll be delivering our babe.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “As it is, unless you’re planning on telling them the truth about shifters, they’re going to believe you’ve been pregnant for a lot longer than you have, and be upset that you hid it from them. And they’re going to wonder why. Then their focus is going to turn on me. They’ll wonder what’s wrong with me that you hid our relationship for so long. And do you know how that’s going to make me feel, Shay? Do you, Shay?”
She shook her head no.
“Like your dirty little secret,” he said angrily.
Shay shrank back into her seat and pushed her plate away. Seemed guilt played havoc with the appetite. “All right, all right. I’ll tell them. Jeez. But don’t blame me when you open the door and find my parents standing on the doorstep, suitcases in hand.”
Rory studied her face for a moment, then nodded. “Now that we have that settled, finish eating your food.”
She glanced at the half a steak and majority of the loaded baked potato on her plate. “I lost my appetite.”
“Fine. If you’re not hungry, drink your tea. We’ll get a to-go box for the food.” He motioned to the still-steaming cup.
Shay looked at the nasty concoction and frowned. “I don’t know why you brought that stuff with us today,” she complained.
“Laurie Bell said for you to drink it a couple of times a day.”
When she heaved a sigh and obediently picked up the cup, he motioned for the waitress, who came before Shay finished swallowing the first sip. “We need a to-go box and the check.”
“Yes, sir. Be back in a moment.”
While they waited, he asked, “You have any other stops you want to make while we’re in the city?”
“I want to find a local health food store.”
“There’s one close to the house—Laurie Bell’s.”
Shay scrunched her nose. “No offense, but this tea is nasty. I’d like to see if someone can recommend one that does the same thing but tastes better.”
He chuckled. “None taken. She’s always giving me brews to drink or pills to take for this or that. Mostly I chuck them.”
Outraged, she said, “But you’re making me drink it? This tastes like cow piss!”
He smirked. “And you’d be knowing this how?”
She snarled. “You know what I mean. I can’t believe you’re forcing me to drink this stuff.”
Rory pinned her with a look. “It’s helping you, isn’t it?”
Glumly Shay had to admit it was. She wasn’t feeling as tired and run-down as she had been. “Could be the prenatal vitamins kicking in,” she suggested.
“Maybe,” he agreed, but a small smile tilted the corners of his mouth.
The waitress returned to the table. As she boxed up Shay’s lunch, Rory dealt with the check.
Shay continued sipping and allowed her mind to wander. Is Rory my dirty little secret? Am I ashamed of him, ashamed of my unplanned pregnancy? No, of course not. I love him, which is amazing now that I think about it. And now that I’m over the worst of the shock, I’m actually happy about this little one. She placed a protective hand over her mildly rounded belly.
Was it wrong to want to keep what she’d found with him to herself, just a little while longer? To savor the feeling of being in love and loved? To take time to adjust to the wonder of her new circumstances before reality, in the form of her parents, intruded?