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Probably one that knows what to do with a nest this glorious.
Because it really is.
A short set of stairs lead from the entrance to a wide, perfectly round floor. The roof is way lower in here, thankfully. The height feels cozy. There are no windows, but Archer flips a switch and the walls glimmer to life; dozens of small, warm fairy lights line the circular seam of the ceiling.
It has a lot more room than most nests—it might actually be a bit too big, if not for the massive round bed built into a cylindrical recess in the center of the floor.
A spark of relief settles in my lungs as I note that the whole thing is stripped. No cushions or mattress. Hopefully, the lack of soft surfaces means my scent won’t be too hard to remove, if they need to.
Archer gives the rest of the tour in hushed, cautious tones. I smile and nod along, standing at the edge of the empty mattress crater, hugging my arms around my body to hold myself together.
Finally, he ushers me back out, where Theo waits with eager eyes. I shoot him the best smile I can manage while Archer slowly winds his arm back around my waist, squeezing gently.
“We’re so glad you’re here,” he murmurs, drawing my gaze with a soft grin. “But it’s time to go.”
“Go?”
“Shopping.”
It’s Ronan, whispering into the room the same way his scent winds into my nose. I’m so mesmerized by the swirling silver intensity in his eyes, I almost miss his casual outfit.
Dang. He looks good. I mean, he’s always a beautiful, imposing specimen. But in gray joggers and a tight Ospreys T-shirt, with a matching black cap shadowing his square features?
Ronan senses my perfume, his mouth curving in his signature half-smile. He crosses the empty room and gathers me up against him, pressing the firmness between his legs right into my lower belly. When he cocks his head to the side, the spark in his eye is close to teasing.
“I wish we could stay home and play, baby girl, but we have a bedroom to decorate, a wardrobe to fill…” All humor evaporates until only pure, burning reverence smolders in his quicksilver gaze. He nods over my shoulder. “And a nest to make.”
I argue with them all the way downstairs, but it’s useless. We are, apparently, going shopping.
When I mention how totally broke I am, their round of low, disapproving growls is punctuated by Ronan hooking his arm around my neck and pulling me into his hard chest. “Don’t make Daddy angry. I want to spoil you, and you’re going to let me.”
Well, then.
Archer is the first one to sense it. He pauses halfway down the plank steps, halting our whole group as he turns to me.
Bottomless eyes roam over my face, a crease forming behind the bridge of his glasses. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
Me?
What is he talking about? I’m fine.
But as his hand drifts up and presses flat over my sternum, fingers curling gently to the pulse in the base of my throat, I realize I’m actually not. My heart is pounding. My throat is dry. And I feel low-grade nausea tumbling around my middle.
His other hand smooths hair back from my face, searching my eyes with such tenderness and patience, I feel like I might start crying. No one has ever looked at me the way he does. Like every feeling swirling inside me means something. And he wants nothing more than to understand each one.
I’m tempted to lie and tell him I really do feel fine. It’s almost a reflex, at this point.
I’m fine. It’s fine. Everything will be fine.
Except it’s not. He’s right. I’m uncomfortable.
“Tell me what you need.” His voice is so deep and warm, I want to sink into it. Let it lap over my over-sensitized skin and soothe every sizzling nerve.
He rubs his thumb along my cheekbone, his patience eternal. In the end, that’s what breaks me. I sense that he will wait as long as it takes for me to come around. Because he truly, honestly cares.
The problem is—I’ve gone so long squashing down my panic, telling myself I’m overreacting… when I’m ready to actually explain what’s bothering me, I find I can’t put it into words.
I open my mouth and struggle to speak. Archer watches for a moment before sliding the hand pressed to my chest up around my neck. He squeezes softly, capturing my attention. “Is it the shopping? You don’t want new clothes?”
