If he was afraid of me leaving, wouldn’t trying to get me pregnant solve the problem? Keep me tied to him? Make it harder for me to escape?
No.
Rowen wouldn’t…
But the box. Everything inside. The logbook.
I swallowed my emotions down and put everything back into the box, sticking it in the cabinet and sliding everything in front of it again, my mind still racing.
His footsteps sounded, and I quickly put the chair back and closed the cabinet, wiping the tears from my eyes, hoping he wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t question.
“Hey, kitten,” he dragged when he got to the kitchen, his eyes scanning me like an assessment. “You okay?”
I forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah. I was just trying to figure out what to cook for dinner. I wanted to surprise you.”
He chuckled, and even though I was a little terrified of the man in front of me, his smile still warmed my belly. “You don’t have to cook for me. I like feeding you.”
“I know.” I fumbled with my hands nervously. “You just do everything, and I want to be useful.”
He closed the distance between us and pulled me to him, looking down at me like I was the meal. “You are more than useful, baby, and besides, I enjoy taking care of you.”
I stayed still as he leaned down and kissed me, and my body reacted instantly, my lips moving against his, my throat forcing me to moan at his touch.
His eyes were full of hunger when he pulled away, and I knew it wasn’t for dinner.
“Can we cook together?” I suggested with a smile, hoping he’d take the bait.
At first, he didn’t respond, and I was sure he saw through me, but then, he smiled and nodded.
“Sure.” He let me go, and I backed up, trying to keep it together, wondering if he could feel the way the air between us had changed.
I didn’t think so, because he turned and started pulling stuff out of the fridge as he talked about the meal he’d planned to make.
I wasn’t really listening, just wondering how long I could bide my time. I had to wait until the perfect moment to bring it up, to demand the truth once and for all.
Ispent the entire week pampering Avery, more so than usual, complete with a gift on the breakfast table every morning. I rescheduled many of my meetings so I could have extra time to give her massages, watch her favorite movies, and feed her snacks. She laughed when I offered to buy her a goddamn puppy.
Avery finally breached the conversation during lunch, saying I needed to move on if I wanted her to act normally. She said I was going overboard with my gestures, that it was a constant reminder of what had happened.
So, I promised to stop—right after I hand-fed her the filet I’d cooked and carried her up to our bedroom so she wouldn’t have to walk.
I just wanted to spoil her.
“Can we try something new?” she asked when we got to the room, her voice smooth and sexy.
She had no idea I’d try anything for her. If Avery asked me to dive off a cliff to prove my love, I’d do so without even looking to see what awaited me at the bottom.
“I’ll try anything for you,” I said as I kissed her again, my mind already racing with what wildly erotic thing she might suggest. “What did you have in mind?”
She pushed me onto the bed then pointed at the headboard.
At the cuffs still hanging there.
A reminder to us both.
For her, a symbol of just how entangled we were, how obsessed I was, how willing I was to do whatever it took to keep our love alive.
For me, a representation of my momentary lapse of control, a warning of what the future might look like if Avery didn’t feel loved and secure here with me.
