by Lindsey Hart
I know that after he’s finished eating, he’ll curl up on his dog bed and take the hugest nap. I put the coffee on, then walk down the hall into the bedroom.
Adam is just waking up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawning. His hair is entirely flat on one side and sticks out at a wild angle on the other. He hasn’t shaved since we got here, which was three days ago. He has nothing on except a set of boxers, and he has sheet creases all over his bare chest. I think he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been looking at this view going on four years now. In fact, I think I fall a little bit more in love with the said view every single time I take it in.
“I have a surprise for you.” I pull out my sock drawer, which is still mostly empty because I still mostly hate socks, but I have agreed to a few pairs that Adam painstakingly chose for me from the company’s line.
In the drawer, folded up neatly, is my favorite pair of socks in the whole world. It’s a pair of gold socks with blue toes, a picture of a diamond ring, and the writing, will you marry me?
Trust me, for us, it was the most romantic proposal anyone could have ever thought of.
I wore them to the reception when I’d had enough of the fancier heels and had ditched them for a comfortable pair of runners. Adam designed these socks just for me for our wedding. Next to them is another pair of socks.
I tuck my surprise behind my back and creep towards the bed. Adam stares at me, confused.
“What on earth do you have behind your back?”
“I don’t know. You’re the sock man. You tell me.”
“I couldn’t imagine.”
I produce a plain black sock, and Adam’s brow creases in confusion. “Uhh, okay. Want to tell me about that?”
I sit down on the foot of the bed and hold out the sock. “It’s not just any sock. This is a time machine sock.”
Adam’s confusion turns into a broad grin. “It’s either too early in the morning for this, or there’s a punchline coming.”
“No punchline. This really is a time machine. This sock will take you back to your childhood—all those fun moments. Favorite books, favorite toys, and all the things you thought you’d forgotten. This sock will bring so much joy, and it has the power to change the future by changing how you think about the past. This sock is going to change everything.”
Adam’s grin grows wider. He’s game to play along even if he’s not sure what exactly I’m getting at. “When does it go into production?”
“Well…it’s already in production. It should be ready in about seven months.”
“Where should we go first? Who should we visit? Can we go together? Are there going to be multiple pairs made?”
I roll my eyes. Of course, he doesn’t get what I’m trying to tell him, so I slide the pregnancy test out of the sock. Adam nearly falls off the edge of the bed.
“Oh. Oh, that’s what you mean. Holy. Shit. Is that…you’re…”
“Yes, I’m pregnant. I took it this morning, first thing. They say morning pee is strong, so I thought it would be best to wait. I wanted to wake you up and tell you, but then I thought about the sock, and it was too good. I couldn’t help it.”
“That was good.” Adam opens his arms, and I shift closer. The best feeling in the world, I’ve decided, is being wrapped up in those arms. “That’s a very good surprise. You’re good at marketing. I think you should consider making a switch.”
“Nope. I save all my good ideas for you.” I reach up and caress his jaw, the thick stubble now tickling my fingers instead of burning them since it’s been so many days that it’s almost soft now.
“A baby?”
“A baby.”
We’ve been trying to get pregnant for five months now. It’s not exactly a surprise, but well, when is finding out you are pregnant, not a little bit surprising? And scary? And wonderful. And amazing. We’re going to have a baby. A baby who looks a little bit like me and a little bit like Adam, and he or she is going to be perfect.
“I’m going to have to design a new line of socks to celebrate,” Adam whispers at the top of my head. He kisses me softly there before tilting my face up.
“They’re going to be the best socks ever, and I think we should make it a thing. You know, to go beside the engagement socks, my wedding socks, and the pair you’ve given me for every anniversary so far.”
“That baby is going to get a pair of socks for every single birthday.”
“Don’t forget Christmas.”
“Hey, everyone loves getting my socks for Christmas.”
“That’s true. They do. Because everyone who knows you loves you. Take me, for example. I happen to love you very, very much.”
“I happen to love you too.”
Adam starts stripping away my clothes—the big sweater and the tank underneath. His hands feel so good, so right, so perfect on my skin. His lips create fresh wonder in me every single time they kiss me. He gently lays me back on our bed and kisses his way to my stomach. It’s still flat. Not a single bit of change, but I know it will only take a few months. He kisses me there reverently before he looks up at me, and I’ll never forget his expression, shining with love and astonishment and pure joy.
“I can imagine them now. All those baby socks.”
“A real reason to celebrate.”
“Socks are always a reason to celebrate.”
I grin back at him and run my hand through his tangled hair. Yes, socks are always a reason to celebrate. I guess socks are kind of the reason we’re together, and I’ve changed my stance on socks. I don’t hate socks anymore. I just don’t like wearing them very much.
“I love when you talk dirty like that,” Adam says our regular cheesy line, and we both laugh together.
The End
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MR. GRUMPY BOSS
I do it every single day... badmouthing my hot boss... in my secret diary.
He is as grumpy as he is gorgeous, okay.
And I never thought he would accidentally read it.
Now, instead of firing me, The Grinch had a proposal.
The pretend girlfriend kind of proposal.
Me and Grumpy Asshole? As Lovers?!!
Puh-lease!!!!
Available Free in Kindle Unlimited
READ HERE
Sneak Peak
Dear Diary,
I think my boss has a secret obsession with plants. Who else installs a jungle on the side of the office building just so he can have a leisurely stroll every single afternoon? #Mybosshumpsplants
Philippe’s mom calls and leaves really weird messages. Often with me. Doesn’t she know I don’t know how her son’s love life is going, and I’d never want to? Gag me. If he was the last man on earth…okay, I don’t know where I’m going with that. Just yeah. I’d rather let the species go extinct than reproduce firebreathing dragon evil grumpy boss babies with him. So no, I don’t actually know, or care, who his girlfriend is.
Side note—thank goodness he doesn’t make me order flowers or something like that for her. If she even exists. I highly doubt it, though. Who could put up with him if they had a choice? Even the hardiest gold digger wouldn’t go for that.
֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍
“Oh My God!” My eyes fly open, and I nearly leap out of my chair.
I’m in such a hurry that I nearly fall out of the dang office chair. I scramble to bring up my sent emails. My orange sucker falls out of my mouth and lands in my lap. It sticks to the leg of my best pair of dress pants, but that’s the least of my worries.
Because I just realized I didn’t attach the report I fixed.
Nope. There is no Data for Monthly Report attached.
But there is a Diary Therapy Thingy. I attached the freaking diary I’ve been working on for the past two months. My diary.
THE diary with all my rants about what a jerk my boss is
.
My. Life. Is. Officially. Over.
Available Free in Kindle Unlimited
READ HERE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lindsey Hart specializes in sweet to extra hot and dirty romances and strongly believes in happily ever after. If you are looking for a page turner, then you are in for a wild and naughty ride with feisty heroines and alpha male heroes.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
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