And yet there is something about this woman that sparks a need to protect her—and her unborn child.
“I think we are safe from giving birth,” she announces, looking at me from the sofa. Despite the chill in the air, sweat beads along her brow, dampening her upper lip. A small smile plays at her lips, though her eyes reveal a discomfort I want to fix. “False alarm. I will not be having this baby.”
It gives me only a small amount of relief that I don’t act on. “You sure about that?”
She nods once, pulling her beanie off, then her scarf. “Yeah. Labour and delivery nurse,” she shares with a grunt, pulling herheavy coat off. I take two long strides to meet her at the sofa and grab it from her hands before she can stand. “Thank you.”
I nod once and take it to the small rack of hooks by the door, hanging it up alongside mine. “You work at the hospital?” I ask, glancing out the window.
“Yep. With Sophia. Though she’s down in the ER.” The sofa creaks as she sits back with a sigh. When I turn around, she has a hand on her swollen stomach, fingers splayed over the bump. “So, if anything happens during the storm, I’m pretty confident I can do this myself.”
My stomach rolls at the thought. “And what about your husband?”
At that, she barks a laugh, looking at me like I made the funniest joke of the year. “Please,” she scoffs, waving her left hand. Which has no ring in sight. Not a wedding band or an engagement ring.
It shouldn’t have my heart racing the way it does. Or the protective instinct rising further.
Who the fuck leaves their pregnant girlfriend over Christmas? Hell, who leaves a woman like this ever?
She’s stunning. And apparently smart. Kind and gentle, probably. Has a smile that chips away at any hardened resolve I have.
Whoever knocked her up and left has to be an idiot.
“Where is the father?” I ask, crossing my arms.
Her eyes narrow, lips pursed. “Why do you care?”
“Sounds like he isn’t in the picture then.”
Blue eyes narrow further. “He’s not,” she admits, finally looking away. “Which is for the best.”
Clearly not, is what I should say. But that confirmation is like gasoline hitting the spark already lit in my chest for her.
“Well, he’s a fucking idiot,” I finally manage, voice rough. “Don’t understand why he’d leave someone so…” I trail off whenher eyes flicker back to mine, a rosy blush forming on her cheeks.
“I gave him the out,” she explains with a shrug. “Trust me when I say this is for the best.”
I want to ask more, but based on the hurt flickering in her eyes, I know I shouldn’t. Even if I’m curious.
Clearing my throat, I nod toward the hallway. “Bedroom is all yours. The sheets are on, and it’ll be getting warmer in there now. Bathroom is the door across from it. You need anything?”
For a moment, she’s quiet, eyes searching my face. But then she yawns and grimaces, hand clutching at her stomach. “Well, I didn’t,” she says as she struggles to stand. “But now I need to pee.”
I meet her without even thinking and help her, one arm going around her back, the other hand on her forearm. A simple touch, and yet it has electricity rushing through me. It brings us closer. We’re almost flush together, except for her stomach, which presses into my lower abdomen.
And for a moment, I think the baby kicks me.
Skye’s eyes widen for a moment before a smile breaks out across her face. “Oh, did you feel that?” She grabs my hand from her forearm and places it over her stomach, right where I felt the kick. “I think the baby likes you.”
That shouldn’t make me feel any sort of way. I should be indifferent—to her and her unborn child. This shouldn’t even elicit a reaction within me.
And yet, my heart skips a beat as I feel it again. A flutter of movement directly below my hand, right against my fingers. Like the little thing is telling me it knows I’m here.
It has a lump forming in my throat. And it definitely cracks whatever walls I need to have in place around this woman.
She’s a danger to everything I’ve built for myself, bulldozing every wall I’ve ever erected.
And I doubt I’ll be able to stop her once she takes me, too.
