She beamed at him. “Good idea.”
Whew! That was close. No wonder they say marriage is hard work.
Cole was spoiling her and she didn’t like it.
Well… she liked it, but it wasn’t a good thing. If their relationship was going to be a mutually-beneficial, friend-roommate thing, she had to pull her own weight. So far, Cole was doing all the heavy lifting.
When they arrived home to the immaculate penthouse apartment, which had more square feet than her parents’ home, Gus greeted both of them with equal helpings of enthusiasm and slobber. While Cole tended to Gus, she retreated to her room.
Cole had stocked her closet with an array of maternity clothes, tags still attached. She had no idea who’d chosen them, but whoever it was had great taste. She changed into an adorable green-striped tunic in a buttery soft fabric. And her maternity yoga pants were admittedly more comfortable without the tight elastic at her waist.
In the mirror, she scrutinized her growing belly. She couldn’t imagine how she would look when she was nine months pregnant. Part of her wondered if Cole would be grossed out by her appearance. Not that it mattered, since they’d be divorced by the time the baby came.
She sighed, surveying the new clothes, which included a dresser full of maternity undergarments. He’d even bought her a huge assortment of new shoes, allowing that she could return the ones that didn’t fit. He’d already informed her the ranch had been stocked with a full set of clothes and toiletries to match the ones she already owned. Whoever had done the shopping—undoubtedly a woman, from the thoroughness of their selections—was probably chuckling at her measly collection of cheap makeup. Well, no reason to get used to fancy toiletries. She’d be back on her own in a few months, and she needed to make her settlement money stretch a long way. If there’s anything left when I pay him back for all the money he’s spending on me.
“This is way too much!” she’d complained the night they arrived home from Vegas. “I don’t need all this stuff.”
“After I go public Tuesday morning, everyone in the country will be dissecting you from head to toe. If I don’t spend money on you, people will wonder why.”
“You don’t wear fancy, expensive clothes.” She’d nodded toward his boots. “I hear you’ve had those re-soled twice.”
“Three times. Nothing could ever replace them. In fact, I plan to be buried in them.” He’d admired his booted foot as he lifted it in the air. “But everyone knows I could buy new ones if I wanted to. I don’t, because I don’t need them, and I don’t like to waste money.”
“Then why waste money on me?”
His shoulders had gone up and down, as if her question didn’t have any merit. “Because I wanted to.”
She hadn’t argued that he was, in fact, using her money, since he didn’t know she intended to deduct his expenditures from her ever-dwindling settlement. She couldn’t even imagine how much a concierge doctor cost, but she reasoned her insurance wouldn’t cover Dr. Harrison’s services.
Somehow, she had to get his spending under control. She propped herself up on the pillows on her king-sized bed, feeling like a character in a Hallmark movie… a commoner pretending to be a princess. Closing her eyes with the intent of resting for a second, she fell asleep, awakening to a mouth-watering aroma.
She made her way back to the main living area, vainly trying to shush her growling stomach. With an apron over his shorts and t-shirt, Cole was busy at the stove.
“What are you making?”
She peered around him at the sauce pan, amazed at his deft use of Shrek, along with his flesh-and-blood arm.
“Sautéed shrimp and scallions. It’s almost ready.”
It was then that she noticed, for the first time, he had on a short-sleeved shirt, exposing a metal spike where Shrek was attached, just above the elbow.
“I hope it doesn’t bother you too much.” The muscles along his jaw rippled. “I can cover it up, if it does.”
Embarrassed to have been caught staring, she jerked her gaze away. “I’m sorry. I was just wondering how it attaches.”
He turned the fire off under the sauce pan and twisted toward her, holding his arm out for inspection. She felt like he was testing her reaction.
“I’m fortunate to have a rod and sensors implanted in my body, so I don’t have to wear a harness. I can do pushups and lift weights without any pressure on my skin where the implant attaches. That’s a luxury most amputees can’t afford.”
“So that rod never comes off?”
If her blatant curiosity bothered him, he didn’t show it.
“No, that’s a permanent part of me.”
“But you can take Shrek off and trade it out for the other one?”
“If I want to, yes. But I hardly ever do. I have to take it off in the shower.”
Images of Cole in the shower filled her mind, and her face caught on fire. She bent toward the floor, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
“You can’t stand to look at it, can you?”
Great… she’d hurt his feelings.
“No, it doesn’t bother me at all. I was just noticing my feet are swelling again.” She fanned her face. “And it’s hot in this kitchen.”
His smile returned.
Thank goodness! Her explanation had worked, and he had no idea where her thoughts had been.
“I’m glad you aren’t grossed out by it,” he said, carrying the sauce pan to the table and placing a serving on each of their plates, “because I usually exercise without a shirt.”
“That won’t matter, anyway, since I make it a point never to set foot inside a gym.”
“All that changes tonight,” he said, as he heaped a pile of salad on each plate and pulled her chair out, motioning for her to sit.
