She smiled again and he relaxed a bit. She wasn’t clingy, had no expectations . . . Goddamn, she was great. He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Amazing, thanks. How about you?”
“Same,” he assured her. “This was fantastic.” He grinned again before rising to his feet. “So . . . how do you want to do this? Every night this week? Every other night? What’s the plan? Your call.”
“Well, I actually was at peak ovulation last week,” she said. “Truth is, I don’t know how effective this cycle is going to be. I’m already at day nineteen in my cycle; we might have missed the window. So . . . maybe the next three or four nights, and then we can start again in a few weeks, closer to my next ovulation start, like maybe day ten? That way, your sperm count will really build up again, and the timing is just right.” She peered up at him. “Is that okay with you? Sounds so clinical, I know. Sorry.”
The thought of not sleeping with her for a few weeks was disappointing. But this was a job, not a pleasure run. “Don’t be sorry. Having to plan like this, of course there are elements that sound clinical. That’s fine. It’s whatever you need, Tess. You call the shots, tell me when to come over, and I’m on board. Okay?”
“Okay. Thank you.” She raised her water bottle in a toast, and he clinked his to hers. “To the Dream Team,” she said.
He raised his bottle in salute to her and drank down the rest of the water. “You stay here, stay warm. I’ll get dressed and let myself out.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, of course. Um . . .” He winked and reminded her, “I do have the key. I can lock up.”
She chuckled. “That’s true . . .” She finished off her water, set the empty bottle down on the nightstand, and lay down. She grabbed a different pillow and pushed it beneath her head. As her curls spilled everywhere—over the pillow, her shoulders—he pulled the soft, thick comforter up over her, tucking her in beneath the swirls of rust, caramel, and brown.
“You’re good to me,” she murmured with a smile.
“You make it easy to be. And you? You just got tired, I can see it.” Her eyes had grown hooded and heavy. “Get some sleep now. With dreams of that baby dancing in your head.”
She smiled broadly. “That sounds perfect.”
He dropped a kiss on her forehead as she snuggled into the pillows. She looked radiant, sexy, adorable, and just plain sweet. Something in his chest pinged as he touched her cheek. “Sleep well. I’ll text you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. Good night, Logan. And um . . .” She bit down on her bottom lip. “Thanks again.”
“Okay, that’s the last time you thank me for this, got it?” He went to where he’d dropped his briefs and jeans. Pulling on the briefs, he demanded, “You are not going to thank me every time. In fact, you’re not going to thank me again in the bedroom, ever.”
“Jeez. I didn’t mean to irk you,” she said. “I believe in expressing my gratitude and appreciation whenever it’s warranted.”
“And I think that’s great. A very admirable trait, really. But about this? No more.” He zipped up his jeans and pinned her with a look. “I know how you feel about my help. I promise I do. So that’s that.”
“Yes sir, Mr. Carter.” She yawned. “So, the plan is, we’ll do it again tomorrow night. And the night after that, too. Then we’ll leave this cycle and wait for the next one, starting up again on day ten. Okay?”
“Okay.” He pulled on his sweater, then located his socks.
“And,” she added, her voice softer as she grew more drowsy, “let me know which night this week you’d like me to come have dinner with you and your mother.”
“That’d be great. Will do.” He gazed down at her. She looked so warm and cozy, he was tempted to climb back into bed with her. But no. They weren’t like that. “All right, I’m going. Good night, Long Island Lady.”
“Good night, Thor.” She grinned and her eyes slid closed.
He gazed at her for a few seconds longer, then went to turn off the lamp on the dresser. The room went dark and he quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.