Nothing's Gonna STAHP Us by Crista Crown & Susi Hawke

Author:Crista Crown & Susi Hawke [Crown, Crista & Hawke, Susi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-18T18:30:00+00:00

12

JESSE

Jesse

As soon as we got home, Ian ushered me to the living room couch, wrapping me in a soft blanket.

"Sit tight while I make you something to eat. What are you craving?"

I laughed. "If you ask if I want 'pickles and ice cream' or some other kind of crazy pregnancy combo, I’ll smack you." I thought for a moment. "But I could really go for a grilled cheese."

Ian's eyes lit up. “Like last time? Three cheeses, ham, and mustard?”

“I don’t know how you made it. I just know it tasted good.”

"Coming right up!" He bent to kiss my forehead before hurrying off to the kitchen.

I settled back against the cushions, allowing my eyes to drift closed. Exhaustion tugged at my limbs, and I wondered if that was a pregnancy symptom or just left over from yesterday.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew a warm hand was stroking my hair back from my forehead. I blinked awake to find Ian gazing down at me tenderly, a plate with a perfect golden-brown grilled cheese in hand. My stomach gave an eager rumble at the sight.

"Someone was tuckered out," Ian said fondly, handing me the plate.

I sat up and accepted it with a smile. "Sorry, didn't mean to conk out on you.”

Ian shook his head, settling beside me on the couch. "Don't apologize, you clearly needed the rest. And you're eating for three now, so make sure to finish that."

I took a big bite of the sandwich and moaned in bliss. “If you hadn’t become a big, tough alpha soldier, I think you would have made an amazing chef.”

“Too stressful,” Ian said, his mouth full of food.

“More stressful than going after bad guys who could literally kill you?”

“I mean, you’re talking twelve plus hours a day, almost every day of the week for weeks and weeks on end? Nah, give me a mission, pack all the stress into a few hours, a few days at most, and then let me chill until the next one.”

I considered it for a moment then shook my head. “I couldn’t do either. I think I need a low amount of regular stress to keep me moving. Always gotta get onto the next task, dig into the next project—and generally not be risking my life doing so.”

“I prefer that kind of job for you, too,” Ian said. “Though if I could talk you into something no stress…”

I made a face, and Ian laughed ruefully.

"Come rub my feet," I suggested playfully once the last bite was gone. Ian blinked, then a slow, wicked grin spread across his face.

"As you wish."

He helped me settle on the couch, then he knelt on the floor and gently lifted my feet into his lap. I sighed, leaning back against the cushions as his big, callused hands began working the knots from my arches.

"You're going to spoil me rotten, you know," I said drowsily, tension melting away under his ministrations.

Ian's blue eyes glinted up at me possessively. "You deserve to be spoiled, little omega.

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