“I killed before.”
He smirks and laughs. There’s something strange in his voice, likerelief, as if he just got something off his chest. My eyes meet Peter’s again and I’m forced to question if I truly lost my mind. I don’t feel turned off by his confession. I feel strangely alive that he told me and worse than that, I want to know more. That part I can blame on my profession.
“Yet you walk freely,” I respond cautiously, continuing to part my salmon and asparagus, still haunted by both Peter’s current confession and his earlier suggestion that I might be pregnant. For a woman who spent twenty years with the same man, whose relationship excitement was directly tied to the Buffalo Bills season performance, I almost can’t believe that I’m in a situation like this.
“Yes. I remain free. But I don’t want you to have any illusions about what I am.”
“Why not? It’s not like you’re serious about me.”
“Who says I’m not serious?”
“I thought this was business…” I slow myself down because I’m eating salmon in this man’s hotel room and I’m not a child.
“This is my business,” Peter says. “But you don’t have to know more than you want to.”
“Considering my job, I want to know as little as possible.”
Peter smirks. “Understood.”
Our eyes meet and the tension that always exists between us sends my heart into an uncontrollable pace. I don’t know how I can feel this way just from looking into Peter’s eyes.
“I also thought we would talk about something else.”
“The pregnancy?” Peter asks bluntly.
I nod, because I haven’t accepted this as much as I thought I would yet. It feels like something that hangs between us but isn’t quite real. Peter drags me back down to earth with his next statement. “Yes. The pregnancy business. If you are pregnant, I want to keep it.”
I chuckle. “I was married for years and didn’t have a baby. Why would I allow that to happen to me now?”
I’m doing a bad job of hiding my true feelings from him. Peter’s penetrating gaze tells me everything I need to know. I sound well-rehearsed, but not genuine. The truth is, I could have never had a baby with a man like Kennard, so I didn’t. But that was a sacrifice. And now that I’m alone… I’m more ready to have a child than I ever was before.
This just isn’t how I wanted to bring a child into the world and Peter… well… I can’t say I know enough about him to even think of tangling up my life with his. How the hell can I trust another man after the betrayal I went through with the one who was supposed to stay faithful with me until our old age?
“Because I’m in my forties and this is my last chance,” Peter says, voicing something I would have never had the bravery to put into words. “I am willing to take a chance on you and a chance on life because… it’s the last chance I’m going to get.”
My face burns with heat. I feel self-conscious about my own age, even if Peter didn’t accuse me of being old. And the sudden rush of emotions triggers everything I suppressed throughout Kennard’s adventures in cheating and dying on the front lawn after getting caught.
Traumatizing me wasn’t enough, on the day of the ultimate betrayal and his death, I have permanently burned on my brain this vision of a very young, slender white woman with a purple dildo strapped to her crotch. My body tightens with fierce defensiveness against men and their seeming ability to descend into depravity whenever they’re left unattended.
There’s only one man in my presence to turn my rage towards. My voice tightens, and I know he can detect my disgust even if it’s only the slightest change in tone.
“You could meet a nice twenty-one year old and have a baby with her.”
Peter balks immediately. “I have nothing in common with a child. I’m not an insecure dickhead who needs a younger woman fawning over him to feel like a man. I think you would make a good mother.”
My stomach flips again. Peter reaches across the table and touches my hand. Fire burns between us once our skin meets. I promise myself I’m only going to fall asleep next to him tonight.
“Take a pregnancy test in the morning,” he says. “I want to be here to see the results.”
Chapter Twelve
Peter
Imistakenly think I’m breaking through the walls Aricia puts up between the two of us. I don’t know how I got it so wrong. I can tell she’s had the same thoughts that I’ve had about growing older and moving forward through time without that connection to the future that children represent.
“I’m serious about going straight to bed tonight, Peter. But I appreciate dinner.”
“Understood.”
