Chapter Fourteen

Damon

“Boss, Geno was spotted in a car near Dumbo, heading into Brooklyn. By the time our guys turned around, they lost sight of the car.” Paulie stood in the doorway to my office, appearing uneasy after sharing the bad news with me.

“Get the car description out to all our guys. Everyone stays on the lookout for him. He’ll probably go after Jillian first because he knows I’d walk through hell to get to her. Make sure the guys on her detail know I’ll cut their fucking balls off and save them as a souvenir if they fuck up.”

“You got it, Damon.”

“I’ll be back later. I have a few errands to take care of before heading home. Call me if you hear anything.”

Someone was always gunning for my family and me. That was an unfortunate side effect of being on top—someone else was always waiting in the wings to take over that spot. Geno wasn’t the brains or the muscle behind the attempted coup, so I wasn’t overly concerned he’d suddenly grow a pair of balls—or a brain, for that matter. But then, I wouldn’t give him an easy target to take out either. We’d keep our guard up while living normal lives. We’d go about our daily routines while growing eyes in the back of our heads. In short, we wouldn’t change a thing.

However, what I had planned was anything but normal, especially for me. Everything had to be perfect and precisely match the picture I had in my mind. Going from store to store, overseeing every detail, and personally selecting every single item took hours. By the time I finished and was on my way home, I needed a fucking nap.

Until I walked through the door of my apartment and a small feminine body flew through the air and attached herself to me. I was suddenly very awake.

“Hello to you too, doll. Did you miss me today?” I chuckled as I wrapped my arms around her, holding her in place against me.

“I did miss you. And I’m happy to see you. But I also wanted to say thank you for the iMac and all the techie goodies you sent me today. You didn’t have to do that, you know. You’re spoiling me. But don’t feel compelled to stop now.”

“You’re not spoiled yet, Jilly. I’m just getting started. Is this flimsy little robe what you’re wearing for dinner tonight? If so, we’ll both be arrested.”

“Oh yeah? On what charges?”

“Definitely multiple counts of indecent exposure, when I can’t keep my hands off you. Assault and battery, when I beat down the men who dare to look at you. Possibly murder, if anyone tries to touch you. We’ll cause quite the scene.”

“Considering I set up my office only a few hours ago and have the best idea for a nursery, maybe I should put my clothes on for this outing. I’m not exactly a fan of prison prenatal care—it’ll cramp my style.”

“Good call. You’re welcome to be as indecent as you want when we get back home later.”

“I’ll take you up on that offer, Mr. Marchetti.”

Her full, pink lips were too luscious to resist. I slanted my mouth over hers, caressing her tongue with long, slow laps. The temperature in the room began to climb—but not nearly as fast as the heat rose in my body. But with Jillian, all I needed was a simple touch, a passing glance, or a barely perceptible wisp of air.

“Mmm.” Her hips surged, sliding against my cock, making it even harder…physically and figuratively…for me to stop.

“Doll, I’m about two seconds away from ripping off your panties and fucking you right here in the doorway. Once I start, I won’t stop for the rest of the night.”

“I’m not hearing a downside in this scenario.”

“Fuck. I don’t either. I’m sure I had a point, though.”

She pressed her lips against mine again, determined to pick up where we left off. I was sorely tempted to let her, except for the warning in the back of my mind telling me to stop before it was too late. I kicked the door closed behind me and walked to our bedroom with her legs wrapped around my waist and her fingers threading through my hair.

“Jillian, doll, we have to get ready. We have reservations at The Fire tonight, remember?”

“That name sounds vaguely familiar. I can’t say for sure though.” She trailed her tongue down the side of my neck, tempting me to forget my own name.

Somehow, I managed to untangle her arms and legs from the death grip she held on me to lower her feet to the floor. With one last caress of her lips, I broke our embrace and held her at arm’s length. “We have to get dressed for dinner, but I plan on eating dessert when we get home.”

“All right, you win. We have kept you cooped up inside the house for the last couple of weeks, so you deserve a night out to let off some steam. Give me about an hour, and I’ll be ready to go.”

“I’ll be waiting. Impatiently.”

Everything was going according to my plan at first. Apparently, I was losing my touch, because I never saw it coming. There were no signs. No warning. No heads-up.

Just angry screams followed by desperate pleas.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Noooooo!”

“What in the actual fuck?”

I’d never been afraid of any man, but walking into that bedroom with an unstable pregnant woman was fucking terrifying. “What’s the problem in here, doll?”

She stood facing away from me, wearing a tight black dress that scooped low in the back, revealing her beautiful skin all the way down to her ass. I had momentary second thoughts about staying in for the night. Then she whirled around to face me with a wild look in her eyes and a displeased expression on her face. That was when I realized the cause of her outbursts.

“You wished this on me, didn’t you?” The accusation in her voice was clear—she meant every word she spat at me.

In my defense, I didn’t mean to laugh out loud. Scout’s honor. But that was exactly what I did.

Her hands curled into fists, and her eyes filled with rage.

“Hold up, doll. I didn’t wish this on you. I only said I’d read this would probably happen. You’re pregnant with twins. Of course you’re going to show earlier. You’re beautiful and sexy and the love of my life. You’re also the mother of my children, and I’m proud to show that off. You should be too.”

“You get points for that little speech because it was a good one. But it doesn’t change the fact that my clothes don’t fit now, Damon. My dresses are too tight to wear out anywhere.” She turned toward the mirror, distraught and near tears.

We both knew it had only been a matter of time before her cute little bump became an unmistakable protruding belly. But a drastic change over the last eight hours? That was unexpected. I scraped my hand down my face, thinking my plans for the evening just blew up along with her baby bump. Then I remembered.

“Hold on a minute. I have something that may help.”

“What?” Confusion and disbelief—I knew exactly how she felt.

I walked deep into my closet and moved boxes around until I found the one I needed. Without opening it, I handed it to Jillian and waited for her reaction.

She opened the box, pulled out the very brightly colored silk button-down shirt, and her bottom jaw fell open. She stared at it for several heartbeats, eyes wide and her head shaking in disbelief.

“Is this fuchsia shirt a gift from an old girlfriend, Damon?”

“No, doll. This shirt was a gift from my asshole sister. It’s been in the far reaches of my closet for a few years now. I figure if anyone can pull off this color, it’s you.”

“Actually, this is perfect.”

Within minutes, she’d arranged a full outfit out of my pink silk button-down shirt, a shiny black tank top, a black stretchy skirt, and a pair of sexy fuck-me heels.

“You look hot.”

“I look like a hooker. A very pregnant hooker at that.” She turned in the mirror, examining her handiwork. “But nothing else fits me, so this outfit will have to do for tonight.”

With that crisis averted, we left the apartment and headed for the restaurant. She didn’t believe me when I assured her everyone stared because of how beautiful and sexy she was. She said they stared because they wondered how much she made per hour. After we were seated, the obvious glances in our direction stopped.

“I’ve never been to a place like this. There’s no menu?” she whispered to me over the tabletop candle, her eyes scanning the tables around us for eavesdroppers.

“No, doll. We get whatever ten-course meal the chef serves tonight. It’ll be delicious. Trust me.”

“Now I really do feel like a fish out of water. I’ve never been to a restaurant where the chef picks my meal for me. Or one that has a ten-course meal. I don’t even know what all that would include.”

“Relax and just enjoy it. We’re in no hurry tonight.”

Course after course, the waiters delivered our plates, and Jillian devoured every bite. After each one, she said she couldn’t eat anymore, but she couldn’t resist the next serving. Watching her eat, hearing her make those little noises of pleasure, made me count down the minutes until dessert.

“For dessert, we have something very special tonight. The chef sends his best regards.” The waiter set the covered plate down in front of Jillian first.

She grabbed her dessert fork off the table and could barely contain herself while she waited for the waiter to lower my plate. He removed both covers at the same time then took a step back from the table. Jillian froze when she looked down at her treat…and her fork slipped through her fingers, falling to the table with a loud clang against her plate.

Her cake was designed in the shape of a light blue Tiffany’s box, complete with an open lid, a quilted pillow center, and held a round brilliant solitaire diamond engagement ring inside. When she finally looked up, she found me down on one knee beside her chair.

“Jillian, you changed my life from the first day I met you. Every day since then, you’ve made it infinitely better. Through the good and bad, my love for you has never wavered. For as long as I live, I only want to be with you. Will you marry me?”

I lifted the ring off the cake and slid it onto her outstretched hand.

“Is that a yes, doll?”

“Yes,” she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. “Every day for the rest of my life, my answer will be yes.”

She met me when I stood, and I pulled her into my arms. She squeezed tightly around my neck as the onlookers in the restaurant clapped and cheered, sending their congratulations and well-wishes our way.

With a watery smile and a chuckle in her voice, Jillian said, “I can’t believe you proposed on a night when I’m dressed like a hooker.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll let you pretend to be one when we get home. Besides, you deserved a more romantic proposal than a hospital waiting room after we’d been awake for a hundred and ninety-six hours straight.”

“You know I’ll take you any way and anywhere I can get you, Damon.”

The waitstaff descended on our table, bringing the other items I’d had delivered. Flowers arrangements were placed on every table—elegant bundles of lavender and ivory roses tied with matching ribbons. To my fiancée, they presented a special bouquet of three dozen lavender roses mixed with baby’s breath and greenery.

“Now I know why you were so adamant to go out tonight. Very sly, Mr. Marchetti. The meal was delicious. This ring is exquisite—I can’t stop staring at it. The flowers are absolutely gorgeous. Everything about tonight has been perfect, even with my wardrobe malfunction. You came through for me there too, finding me a shirt to wear to hide my too-tight clothes. Damon, you make me so happy.”

“I love you, Jillian. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Let’s finish our dessert, and I’ll prove that to you soon enough.”

On the car ride home, we passed a couple of mounted police officers that caught Jillian’s eye. She slipped her hand into mine and laced our fingers together. “Did I tell you I used to ride horses back home?”

“No, doll. You’ve never mentioned that. How long did you ride?”

“Several years—from as young as I can remember through high school. Then college and work took up most of my time. I haven’t ridden much in the last several years, but I always loved it. Watching you crossing the field to Leo’s house reminded me of home and the farm where we boarded my horse.”

“You miss it, don’t you?”

“Riding horses or home?”

“Both. Either.”

“Yes, I do. I miss both. But I don’t have any family left down there, so you’re home for me now.”

“Home is where the heart is, Jillian.”

“That cliché actually is true.”

That was the moment when I knew exactly what I had to do, and I couldn’t wait.

Something else I couldn’t wait for was my extra helping of dessert. The moment we walked through the door to our apartment, I locked the door behind us and didn’t let her out of the entryway before I dropped to my knees and feasted.

Best fucking meal of the day.