Page 93 of Where the Wattles Bloom

What had he missed? Had she suddenly thought about the baby?

‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice was still a little husky.

‘It’s fine,’ he dismissed.

Because it was. He didn’t care about the abrupt ending to their make-out session. Sure, his boner was slightly miffed, but it’d live. He rolled his head to the side, his gaze falling on her profile as she stared at the roof.

‘Did I … do something? Or not do something?’

She shook her head quickly, the sound of her hair rubbing against the fabric of the headrest loud in the muted silence.

‘It’s not you.’ Her voice was even huskier. ‘It’s me.’

Lachlan watched her throat undulate as she swallowed and then, to his horror, a tear trekked from the corner of her eye. She dashed it away quickly but the presence of it was like a hot poker to his gut. He wasn’t one of those guys who was rendered useless in the face of a woman’s tears, but he hated seeing Rowena like this.

Was something seriously wrong or was it just … pregnancy hormones? The books he’d been reading had said it was normal for women to be inexplicably emotional. Lachlan wished he was secure enough in his relationship with Rowena to offer the comfort of touch in this situation, but he had no idea if it was what she either wanted or needed.

‘Ro?’

‘I can’t …’ She huffed out a breath then pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes for long moments before dropping her hands into her lap. ‘I can’t orgasm.’

Lachlan blinked at the air of defeat in her tone. That he hadn’t expected. ‘Okay. But … sometimes these things happen, right? It’s probably some temporary glitch.’

‘Nope.’ Another shake of her head. ‘It’s been going on for a while now.’

Hmm. Interesting. ‘Could it be a pregnancy thing?’

According to his reading, hormones and extra blood flow to the genitals could make women super orgasmic in the second trimester. But that didn’t mean every woman.

‘I mean, you … got across the line that night with me, which is the night you got pregnant, so the timeline fits?’

She didn’t say anything for a beat or two then a long sigh escaped her lips. ‘I didn’t.’

Lachlan’s brows knitted together. ‘Didn’t what?’

Finally she glanced at him, a slight wince marring her features, apology shining from her eyes as her meaning slowly dawned.

Well, crap. ‘You faked it?’

The wince deepened. ‘Sorry.’

Lachlan was speechless as he remembered that night. He didn’t pretend to be the world’s best lover, but he did pride himself on not being selfish in bed and knowing the difference between a woman who was satisfied and one who was not.

So much for that.

‘Oh god.’ He groaned out loud and shoved his hands through his hair, turning his gaze to the roof of the car. ‘I’m sorry. I thought you’d—’

‘It’s fine.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s not my first faked orgasm. I’ve grown quite good at it.’

Lachlan contemplated her depressing admission. Should he apologise on behalf of his sex?

‘Sometimes it’s … easier, you know?’

Lachlan looked at her again. ‘Okay. I just wish you hadn’t felt like you needed to.’

‘Bloody hell.’ She gave a half laugh. ‘We’d have probably still been there if I hadn’t.’

‘You know I would have happily taken direction that night. If there was something I could have done to help. My ego can take it.’