Chapter 368: Like You

“What would I even need to tell you?”

Summer blurted out, “Aren’t you holding the Graham Group’s consortium meeting tomorrow?”

Under Fraser’s dark, piercing gaze, Summer stuck her tongue out slightly.

“I know that ever since the marriage announcement, Graham Group’s stock has dipped a little, and now some of the senior shareholders are trying to impeach you.”

Fraser’s brows furrowed, and the hand resting on her back suddenly tightened.

“So you don’t want to get married anymore?”

“No, no, that’s not it.”

Only then did Fraser’s grip on her loosen a little.

Summer closed her eyes for a moment. “It’s just… I worry about you too, you know?”

Fraser stared at her. Warmth flickered in his eyes as he said lazily, “Relax. You think I can’t handle a bunch of old men? Don’t forget, I’ve got a ninth-degree black belt in taekwondo. Ten old geezers wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Summer rolled her eyes. “Seriously? I’m trying to have a real conversation with you.”

“I’m being serious. You know how strong I am.”

Summer was speechless.

That night after dinner, Summer took a bath, then sprawled out on the sofa. Lately, she’d gotten into the habit of half-lying there to watch movies. The couch was curved, plush like cotton, and every time she sank into it, it felt like being cradled by a cloud. So soft. So comfortable. Pudding was curled up beside her, resting its head against her leg, quietly watching the screen with her.

Fraser finished his work in the study, opened the bedroom door, and walked over to the sofa. He sat down and gently placed her legs across his lap, his fingers moving expertly over her calves to massage them. He’d been reading prenatal books. Massaging helped with blood circulation. Summer’s expression softened with comfort.

Fraser glanced up at the TV screen. “Another movie? Let me guess—your best friend Yvette again?”

“Nope,” Summer said. “This one just came out.”

She remembered his scathing review of Yvette’s last movie. She knew he wasn’t into romance flicks.

“You should go shower. I’ll watch it by myself.”

“I’ll stay.”

Night fell, and the moon hung high in the sky. Its silver light spilled into the room, casting dreamy shadows across the floor. The atmosphere was warm and quiet.

“Fraser,” Summer called softly.

Fraser’s long fingers pressed gently down her leg, from her calf to her ankle. “Hm?”

“Do you want our baby to be a girl or a boy?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, eyes narrowing slightly. “But if I had to choose… I’d want the first one to be a girl.”

“Why?”

“So she can be like you.”

Summer couldn’t hide her pride. Her lips tugged upward in a smug smile. “You love me that much?”

Fraser looked at the hint of triumph in her expression, and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “What do you think?”

“Isn’t that proof enough? You said you wanted a daughter just so she could be like me.”

Fraser leaned in, his voice teasing, lips curving slyly. “Because you’re such a handful. I want a sweet little girl who actually listens.”

The next morning, dawn broke slowly, and the early silence was pierced by the chirping of birds.

She blinked, just about to sit up. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him in the full-length mirror across the room. Summer propped her head with one hand, turned to her side, and just stared at him without moving. He was buttoning his shirt—black dress shirt, black slacks, standing tall and straight. His long fingers were poised at his collar, about to fasten his tie. Summer vaguely remembered Fraser going to shower last night while she curled up with Pudding to finish the movie. She didn’t even know when she’d fallen asleep. She definitely didn’t remember getting into bed.

Fraser heard the stir at the edge of the bed. He turned to glance at her, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. “Awake?”

Summer responded with a lazy hum, her voice still raspy with sleep.

Fraser chuckled. “Know how to tie a tie?”

“Huh?” Summer blinked. “Yeah, I do.”

Fraser let his hands fall away from his tie, walked to the bed, and leaned down. His voice, low and magnetic, wrapped around her. “Then help me.”

Summer sat up halfway in bed. A faint, woodsy scent clung to his shirt—clean, fresh, distinctly him. She reached out and adjusted the collar of his shirt. Her slender fingers looped the black tie around his neck, crossed it neatly beneath the shirt, and tied a perfect knot. Fraser lowered his gaze, eyes deep and locked onto her the whole time.