Chapter 159: Killer Cramps

He hung up and stepped on it. Dorian had learned very quickly that Naomi’s monthlies announced themselves.

The first time he had seen her doubled over in pain, he had genuinely thought something serious was wrong.

She had forty meals to prepare and deliver, clients depending on her and a new business she was already treating like she had something to prove. Naomi would absolutely attempt to work through the pain rather than disappoint anyone.

Still, as he drove faster toward the townhouse, another thought settled quietly in the back of his mind.

Their mistakes over the past month had produced no consequences. And there had been lots of mistakes.

Very enjoyable and irresponsible ones.

They had tried to be more careful lately, but there had still been enough reckless moments.

Cramps meant her period had arrived which meant no accidental pregnancy.

Thank God.

Only God knew how she would handle that.

By the time Dorian got back to the townhouse, he went straight to the floor they had somehow started sharing like a completely normal married couple.

Normal, of course, being used very generously.

He found Naomi exactly where he expected.

In the hot tub.

Her head rested against the edge, eyes closed, the warm water doing most of the work keeping her functional.

"Fifteen minutes?" Dorian asked as soon as he walked in.

Naomi opened one eye then groaned. "I don’t want to get out."

"If I get out, it hurts."

Dorian came closer. "Take a few hours, and you can get back in, okay?"

"What am I going to do?" she asked. "I can’t function like this."

"We’ll figure something out."

"You say that because your uterus is not trying to murder you."

After another minute of reluctant negotiation, Naomi finally pushed herself upright and climbed out.

Dorian immediately held out a towel.

She took it and wrapped it tightly around herself. "I’m sorry for disrupting your day."

"I was done already for the day. I was merely speaking with a client."

Naomi started toward the bedroom, moving carefully. "I already have the food prepared. I just need to serve them into the packs and send them out."

"Did you get the branding I told you?"

"Yes. They’re quite beautiful."

"I told you presentation matters. Get dressed," Dorian said, guiding her toward the bedroom. "I’ll get a delivery van on standby."

A few minutes later, Naomi came downstairs dressed comfortably, moving more slowly than usual but determined to finish the order.

When she entered the kitchen, she stopped.

Her self-assigned assistant had taken his temporary position very seriously.

The kitchen island had been transformed into a proper packing station.

Her branded paper plates were already spread out neatly.

The large insulated container sat open and ready. The disposable cutlery, napkins, labels and everything else she needed had been arranged within easy reach.

"Wow! You really are efficient."

He gave her a smug look. "I called the logistics company. They’ll be here soon. You finish this, and then you can get into bed."

Naomi gave him a weak smile. "Yes, boss." She shook her head, then immediately pressed a hand against her stomach when another cramp rolled through her. "Thank you," she murmured.

The next few minutes passed surprisingly easily as Naomi portioned the meals while Dorian helped wherever she allowed him to. She was now in an apron with her hair covered. Mostly, he handed her things, moved completed packs out of the way and made himself useful without getting close enough to the food.

Every so often, she stopped.

Her hand would flatten against the island, her eyes closing while she breathed slowly through the pain.

Dorian hated watching it.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do besides make sure she didn’t push herself too hard.

"So," he said after one particularly bad cramp passed, "I suppose this was a very dramatic way of informing me you aren’t pregnant."

Naomi slowly turned her head. "You’re terrible."

"I’m relieved."

She laughed, then groaned and grabbed her stomach. "Stop making me laugh!"

"Well, congratulations. We have successfully avoided creating a human being. For now."

Her head snapped toward him. "Excuse me?"

Dorian smiled. "I meant statistically. Considering our recent decision-making."

Somehow, the ridiculous conversation became a discussion about what would happen if they actually did have a child together.

"Our hypothetical baby is already exhausting." Naomi commented.

"Your genes are involved. What did you expect?"

Naomi gasped at the insinuation.

Dorian’s smile widened. "One thing is certain. Our hypothetical child would not be going anywhere near that asshole you plan on marrying."

"I’m not going to marry him, Dorian."

"What?"

"I’m not marrying Callum." Naomi shrugged. "I guess in the moment, I felt pressured. Like I had limited choices."

"What changed your mind?"

"You, actually."

"Is that so?" A slow smile touched his mouth. "Glad I’m doing something right. So how did I do that exactly?"

Naomi considered it. "I don’t know. I feel like I’m in control for the first time in my life."

Marianne’s words came back immediately.

Could Marianne actually be right? Ugh... he groaned mentally. It was a good thing he wouldn’t be seeing Marianne anymore, at least until she got out.

The woman had the skills to mess with his mind and he didn’t like it.

"So, for being a great and gorgeous assistant..." Naomi slid one of the packed meals across the island toward him.

"That’s all I get?" He raised a brow. "Have you seen what I did?"

Naomi gave him a flat look. "Oh, keep it in your pants for a couple more days, will you? I’m closed for business."

Dorian smiled as he picked up the fork. "You could kiss me. But, you know, whatever."

Naomi’s mouth curved. "Kiss you where?"

His eyes immediately darkened with amusement. "I like the way you think. Giving me options." He leaned against the island. "My cock would be very pleased. Its a very appreciative organ."

Still smiling, Naomi turned back to the food and started arranging the remaining plates inside the insulated box.

Dorian took a bite from the meal she had given him and watched her work. "I’ll be taking the week off next week in preparation for Ginny’s wedding. And I invited Oliver to come hang with the boys tomorrow, like you suggested."