Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men #9)

He froze in the entrance of the hallway, his eyes widening. “Oh, shit. Sorry. Did that jostle your ovaries too much or something? Are you okay?” He promptly set me back down on my feet, as gently as possible.

I stared at him a moment before bursting out laughing. “Jostle my ovaries?” I wheezed between giggles. “Oh my fucking God, what?”

Sniffing, he picked me back up and started toward my room once again. “Well, I don’t know. Maybe shaking a woman too much during that time of the month hurts stuff, you know, down there.”

I cracked off another laugh, tears streaming down my cheeks, and had to hide my face in his shirt to muffle how loud I was giggling. But shaking a woman? “Oh God, you’re too funny. Where the hell did you come up with that idea? And exactly what do you think happens to us during our periods?”

“I think the lining of your uterus peels off because the egg you dropped earlier in the month wasn’t fertilized, and since there’s no baby to nurture, it all flushes out of you in a painful, bloody mess, fucking with all your hormones and emotions along the way. Why would I not think shaking that shit up might make it worse?”

I pressed my lips together to keep from blurting out another laugh because his thought process actually kind of made sense. “Well, shaking us doesn’t hurt us at any time of the month.”

“Good to know.” He nodded seriously as he entered my room.

I couldn’t help but study his face as he set me gently on my bed. Shaking my head, I mused, “I can’t believe you’re so blasé about this. Every guy I’ve ever known has freaked out when the menstrual subject is even mentioned.”

“It’s just biology.” He shrugged while busying himself with pulling back the covers on my mattress before draping them over me and tucking me in nice and snug. “Every woman deals with it. Both my sisters, every girlfriend I ever had, even female teachers. Not sure what all those other idiot guys find so freaky about it?”

“Oh, maybe the fact that a woman can get downright homicidal during this time of the month.”

“Only if the dude handles the situation all wrong.” After fluffing my pillows and stacking them so I could sit upright against them, he helped me lean back before he turned away and spotted my laptop.

I watched him fetch it and carry it back to the bed, then open it and set it on my lap. He seemed to pause and run through a mental checklist through his head, then he asked, “Which candy do you want me to bring back? I brought chocolate of just about every variety, Skittles, Starbursts, Atomic Fireballs, Sour Patch Kids…”

Something warm and soft bloomed in my belly. Still unable to stop staring at his face, I asked, “Who are you?”

“Huh?” He’d been examining my blankets as if to make sure I was covered well enough. But his gaze snapped to my face. “What do you mean?”

“Why’re you being so nice to me?” I didn’t deserve it.

“I don’t know.” And he honestly looked stumped about his answer. Then he added, “It’s that time of the month. You’re miserable.”

I gulped and couldn’t help but say, “I’m not miserable right now.”

He made me feel very not miserable.

Grinning his dazzling amazing smile, he murmured. “Good.” Then he leaned in and pressed his lips to the center of my forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

As he left the room, I pressed my hand to my chest and tried to figure out what was going on here. I’d already admitted to myself that I loved him, and yet what I was experiencing was so much more powerful than what I’d felt before.

This was plum crazy. How many freaking times could you fall for a single guy?

“I forgot, I also got Twizzlers and some iced coffees.” He pulled the bottle from his bag—it dripped with condensation because it must still be cold—and arched his brows as if asking me what my preference was.

Still too overwhelmed by everything, I looked up at him and said, “I just want you.”

He bloomed with pleasure, eyes sparkling and smile stretching, before he said, “Done,” and climbed onto the mattress beside me, scooting close enough that our shoulders mashed together and he could see the laptop screen as well.

Fishing through the bag as I logged into the movie, he came up with a Twix and broke it open. After popping one stick into his mouth, he silently offered me the other. I took it with a grin just as the movie started.

He kept sorting through the candy and sharing each piece with me all through the opening credits. I accepted whatever he handed over but didn’t eat any of it. I was too busy watching this new species my Colton had turned into.

“The royal penis is clean, Your Highness,” an actress on screen announced as she splashed her head up from under the water in front of Eddie Murphy’s character where he sat in an enormous bathtub.

Colton burst out laughing as he popped a handful of Sour Patch Kids into his mouth. When he glanced at me to share the amusement, he finally noticed I wasn’t paying any attention to the movie.