Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
What the hell was wrong with her?
There was no way cravings should be starting already.
“It’s after one, Milah. Come back to bed.”
She shook her head, weighing out some more butter. “Not happening. I want to bake.”
“You can bake in the morning or whenever you want. It doesn’t have to be now.”
Milah looked at his offered hand. “I can’t in the morning, and I’m not going to push the kitchen staff out of this room.”
“Damn it, Milah, you are pregnant. You can’t just wander around at night. Bake when there are other people around.”
“Ugh, you’re not listening. It’s because I’m pregnant that I can’t bake with other people around, okay? The smells in the kitchen are too much. With all the garlic and coffee and onions. I tried and I ended up vomiting. I couldn’t stop it, so no, I’m not going to come into the kitchen when everyone is doing their thing. It’s not … right.”
“Milah?”
“I want to bake something, okay? Is that so hard for you to understand? My mom would do this when my dad wasn’t around. You know this.” And now she felt the tears starting to fill her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted.
She didn’t want to cry in front of Damon.
“Milah, please, don’t.”
“I don’t expect you to understand. I’m pregnant. With your baby. Do you have any idea how hard it is to know that I am hated? That you hate me because of my last name?” She spun away from him, not wanting him to see her tears. They were driving her crazy.
Tears didn’t help any situation, and she was never one to cry about her problems.
Damon surprised her as he rounded the counter and pulled her into his arms. “I don’t hate you.”
“Yes, you do. I’m a Russo.”
“You’re nothing like your father.” He kissed the top of her head. She wanted to believe his sincerity, but it was really hard for her.
“I … Damon, you need to stop sending flowers.”
“Not going to happen.”
“What are you trying to prove?”
He sighed, letting her go.
She liked his arms around her, but she wasn’t going to beg for more. Milah expected him to leave, but instead, he grabbed a chair and sat down at the counter.
“What are you doing?”
“If you want to bake, then go ahead and bake, but I’m not going to let you be alone.”
“Why?”
“We’re going to have a child together. We’re not doing anything on our own. Not anymore.”
“Are you trying to get me to marry you?” she asked, her suspicions rising with every second.
He rolled his eyes. “Milah, baby, I could be married to you by the end of tomorrow. I wouldn’t even need you to say the official I do. I’ve got men who would be willing to do anything I wanted for a price. When we do marry, it’s going to be your choice. You’re not going to want to back out.”
“You do realize you’re making all of this up, don’t you?” she asked.
He laughed. “You do realize, one day, you’re going to have to eat your words. You want to bake, then bake. I don’t mind.”
She stepped toward the counter and got to beating again, aware of his gaze on her, and she was cautious. “I don’t … trust this.”
Damon chuckled. “So long as you’re not poisoning my child, I don’t care.”
She rested a hand on her stomach. “I’m not.”
“Good.”
She started to work on the cookies, and the scent of the cupcakes wafted toward her. She dropped everything on the counter and went to the cupcakes. They were not brown yet, but the tray did need turning, which she did, breathing out a sigh of relief as she spun it around.
Damon was a distraction. She had to stay focused.
With the cookie batter made, she was sure to add more vanilla than she needed along with lots of chocolate chips, because that was what she wanted.
Once the cupcakes were out of the oven, she slid the cookies inside.
After a few minutes, she moved the cupcakes to a cooling rack and then got to work on the buttercream frosting, which was the most important part of the entire process.
“What do you hope for?” Damon asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.
“Huh?”
“We’ve never really talked about the baby and what we’d like to have.”
Milah stopped and put a hand on her stomach. “I guess we haven’t.”
“A boy or a girl?”
“I … I guess I just want whatever comes and to hope they’re healthy.”
“I agree.” He smiled and nodded.
She couldn’t help but respond to his smile. “You’re happy about being a dad?”
“I never thought I would be. I know I would have to be at some point. You know, continuing the De Luca line.”
“I guess.”
She remembered her father being so infuriated when her mother would miscarry. They didn’t stop trying with her. Her mother made herself sick trying to please Antonio Russo.