“You have, what, five jobs? Three careers? Work is your life, too.”

She laughs. “Greyson—”

“Grey. I like it when you call me Grey.”

“All right, Grey. I have one job, and a side gig I do every so often because I’m obsessed with design and it helps me feel connected to my dad. I love my work, but it’s not my life. My friends are my life. My books. I travel. Walk. I love antiquing. Music. Dancing I really love. Experiences are important to me. I need to do stuff and see stuff to stay inspired—which means getting away from my laptop on a regular basis.”

I keep my lips in her hair. Inhale the scent of her shampoo.

“It shows. You’re pretty damn inspiring yourself.”

“Speaking of getting away from my laptop—I’ve started looking into maternity leave. When I’d take it. How much I’d take. I’ve met with my department head and the HR team at C of C to figure out how to make it all work. Have you given any thought to the time you’ll take off when the baby comes?”

My heart clenches. To be honest, I have no idea how I’m going to take any time at all off. I haven’t been on vacation in years. Never take a sick day. I’m always in the office because I have to be. Maybe Julia and I can, I don’t know, hire some help. My parents are retired, and I know they’ll be around and willing to help out.

“We’ll figure it out,” I say, burying my face in the crook of her neck. “God you smell good.”

“That’s not very comforting—the ‘we’ll just figure it out’ part. I’d like to have a real plan.”

“Trust me on this. I always come through, don’t I?”

She takes a breath. Lets it out. “Except when you’re late for doctor’s appointments.”

“Hey, we still made it, didn’t we? I’ll get better, Julia.”

“You sure about that?”

“I’m sure.”

Another breath. Another sigh out.

Then she arches her back, the curve of her ass pressing into my groin. My dick responds immediately.

“All right.”

Lord, this woman is turning me into a monster. An insatiable, hot-blooded, horny monster.

What I would give to spend the day naked with her. Fuck her fifteen times and make her come fifteen more. Every way I could imagine. Me on top, her on top. From behind. In the shower. On the kitchen counter. I’d fuck her ’til we were both too sore or hungry to keep going. Then I’d make her food—pimiento cheese sandwiches, maybe, on fluffy rolls from Gracie’s bakery—and we’d watch an episode or two of The Sopranos before running back up to bed again.

My God, do I want that. Can’t remember the last time I spent a Saturday just dicking around. Having fun.

But I want to take care of my family more. Now, more than ever, it’s important that I keep a steady hand and dedicate myself to my work. I’m a provider. It’s what I do.