“I’ll call a travel agent and see what’s available in a hurry,” he said. “Are you hungry?” He lowered his head and kissed her flat belly. He wondered what she’d look like with his baby growing inside her. He was positive that it would be the most beautiful sight he’d ever see.
“A little. Are you?”
“Starving,” he said.
“I’ll get up and make you breakfast.”
He pressed her firmly into the mattress. “You stay here and incubate,” he said. “I’ll bring you something.”
“I appreciate that,” she said, her eyes growing moist again.
Damn, she was emotional while trying to get pregnant. He couldn’t even imagine how emotional she’d be once she actually conceived. He wouldn’t mind, though. He was more than happy to make midnight runs for pickles and ice cream to keep a smile on her face. He’d do anything to make her happy.
“No problem,” he said and kissed her pouty pink lips. “It’s the least I can do after that wonderful wake-up you gifted me with this morning.”
“When my ovaries say it’s time, it’s time,” she said with a laugh.
“We have at least twelve more hours to take advantage of their cooperation,” he said.
“Better make that breakfast a quick one.” She patted his ass. “I’m ready for you to take advantage of me again.”
Chapter Two
Less than six hours later, Brian was sitting in an airport terminal holding Myrna’s hand as they waited to board their flight to Oranjestad in Aruba.
“We’re missing our window of opportunity,” she said. “My egg is probably dying as we speak.”
“I thought you wanted to get away. Just the two of us.”
“I do. I just wasn’t expecting to leave today,” she said.
“That travel agent performed a miracle for us. She called every five-star resort on the island and was lucky enough to locate us a penthouse suite during the peak of the season.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. There’s always next month.” She frowned. “Except, you’ll be back on the road by then.”
“Maybe you got pregnant this morning,” he said, rubbing her back encouragingly. He wanted to give this woman the world, and he had the financial means to do that. So if they were required to go through the long and expensive process of getting pregnant with the aid of a fertility clinic, at least they wouldn’t have to worry about the cost. “We’ll give it a year, and then we’ll see a doctor to figure out if something’s wrong.”
“I know half the problem is wanting so badly for it to happen,” she said, “but I can’t help it.”
“I want it to happen too. Sometimes these things take time.”
“We don’t have limitless time, Brian. I’m already in my mid-thirties. You should have married someone younger,” she mumbled with a scowl.
Her words stung. Did she think the only reason he married her was because she’d make the most beautiful babies on the planet? And it was bad enough that his mother thought Myrna was too old for him—he sure as hell didn’t need Myrna spouting the same nonsense.
“Myrna, I didn’t want to marry someone younger. I wanted to marry you. You know I don’t give a fuck about your age.”
“I can’t help but think if I was ten years younger, this wouldn’t be an issue. I’d have been knocked up the second I got off birth control.”
“We’ve only been trying for a few months,” he reminded her. “That’s not very long.”
She bit her lip and nodded, her stare unfocused. He couldn’t stand to see her like this. Maybe she’d feel better if they utilized their narrow window of opportunity while waiting for their flight.
He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “We could go find some secluded corner and try again right now.” He slid a hand over the fabric of her dress, smiling when her thigh tightened beneath his exploratory caress.
She glanced around, and he knew she was considering it. Fuck, his wife rocked his world.
“It’s too crowded,” she said, her voice hollow with disappointment.
Brian’s cock twitched in his pants. They needed to get to their hotel in Aruba immediately.
“How long is the flight?”
She checked their boarding pass. “Seven and a half hours.”
That was definitely not immediately. He groaned.
She patted his thigh, and his cock twitched again.
“Stop thinking about sex,” she suggested, her gaze on the increasing bulge in his pants.
“You started it,” he said.
“Unfortunately, I can’t finish it at the moment. Maybe I can sneak in a handjob under a blanket on the plane.”
He grinned and shook his head. “You’re getting me wound up on purpose.”
She blinked at him, trying her best to look wide-eyed and innocent. “Who, me?”
He was just glad she’d stopped moping. If that meant a huge case of blue balls for him, he’d gladly make the sacrifice.
A few minutes later a flight attendant made a grainy-sounding announcement over the intercom to start the boarding process.
Myrna checked their seat numbers and shook her head. “That’s not us.”
He traced patterns on the back of her hand with one fingertip while they waited. And waited. The terminal was mostly empty when their section was called. Brian carried both carry-ons while Myrna maneuvered her enormous purse through the dwindling crowd. As they stood in line chatting about remembering to turn off the coffee pot and lock the door and did he remember to pack this or that, Brian became aware of the conversation behind him.
“That is him,” some guy said.
“No, it’s not,” a woman returned. “What would he be doing in Kansas City? And boarding a commercial flight to Aruba? I don’t think so. He’d be on a private jet or something.”
“It is so him. I’ve seen him onstage around a thousand times.”
Brain winced and pretended he didn’t know they were talking about him.
“Master Sinclair!”
Myrna immediately turned to see who had called Brian’s name. Damn it. It was difficult to pretend he hadn’t heard when his wife was tugging at his sleeve and nodding toward the couple behind them. He so didn’t want to be a celebrity while he was on vacation; he just wanted to be Brian. He turned and offered a courteous nod to the twenty-something guy behind him. The dark-haired, stocky man in a faded black Exodus End T-shirt had almost as many tattoos as Brian had.