Page 33 of Be My Baby
Millie swallowed her immediate reaction—which was to deny, deny, deny; and then launch into retaliation. She didn’t need to do that anymore. She relaxed her death grip on her hands, her knuckles returning to a normal colour.
“What, did you take a poll?” she snipped, her brow raised high, not quite able to hide the snark in her voice.
Darby’s mouth twisted. It looked like she was trying to hide a smile. “Smart arse.” A slow, genuine grin wound across her face. “Yep, we did.”
A slight, unexpected smile pulled at the corners of Millie’s mouth. She actually wouldn’t be surprised if they had.
“Thanks for your honesty, Darby.” Millie looked around the group of women who meant the most to Max. Women who could make or break anything between them. “I don’t know what it is yet.” She surprised herself with that answer. “I-I’m not sure what I want it to be, or even whathemight want it to be. I think I want…”
Max. I want Max.
How his muscled stomach had contracted under her palm, as if he’d had to force himself to stand still, waiting for her touch. Shivers coursed over Millie. The sound he’d made when she’d wrapped her hand round him; his sharp intake of breath.
Amy leaned over and wrapped Millie’s hands in her own. Her overly knowing eyes glowed.
“Well, that’s a start, isn’t it?”
Chapter Twelve
Millie hit thealarm clock and blinked into the gloom of her bedroom. Heavy blockout curtains covered her large windows, which worked wonderfully to keep in the heat on cold mornings, but made it so dark inside that you could barely see your hand in front of your face.
She grunted at the dim numbers looking back at her on the clock.
Six AM.
She reached out from beneath her lovely, thick, goose-down doona and grabbed the thermometer that she kept beside the bed. She’d been charting her basal temperature for months now and although her cycle sometimes moved around a bit, a few days either side of her projections, her temperatures were mostly consistent and predictable by now.
She inserted the probe into her ear and pushed the button. She hadn’t even stretched yet. She’d wait until she had her daily temp, then wallow in a long, satisfying stretch.
Then go right back to sleep. It might be Monday, but itwasa public holiday, after all.
The probe let out its high-pitched beep and she sighed, looking at the glowing LED screen.
She blinked. Then gasped. She grabbed the small notepad she kept in the bedside table and flicked the lamp switch to make sure, although she’d been doing this for so long she already knew what she was looking at.
It was higher. She was ovulating.
Millie bit her lip, looking at the clock again. She shouldn’t call him this early, but…
He’d said to. Had told her explicitly that hewantedher to.
She picked up her phone and tapped Max’s number in herrecentlist. She breathed deeply as it connected, then began to ring.
“Hmm?” A deep, sexy, grumbly rumble came through the speaker when he answered.
“Max? It’s Millie. I, ah… You said to call. I’m ovulating.”
Deep silence lasted several heartbeats.Would he—
“You need me to come over now?” His voice sounded clearer, more awake, moreaware.
“I, um, is that a problem?”
She cringed into her pillow. She’d called the poor man at oh-God-o’clock to ask for a booty call, of all things. If it wasn’t so important for their chances she’d hang up immediately.
“Give me ten. I’ll be there.”
Millie let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding and closed her eyes in relief.