Soft nuzzling and angry baby sounds wake me a few hours later. The house is quiet, early morning rays streaming through the windows. There is much to do. A facade to maintain until Colin has left, and I can reach out to the DAU.
After changing Kaitlin, I rock her in the chair and feed her. She’s so beautiful with her tiny smattering of blonde hair and her squishy cheeks. The soft baby scent that mixes with her lotion is the best thing I’ve ever smelled. It mends the broken pieces of my heart, reminding me why I am here, why I’ve spent the last seven years fighting to dismantle my father’s cult. To protect the innocent children forced to endure lies and abuse from the adults in our community.
Slipping my now sleeping baby into a wrap to keep her against my chest, I quietly straighten her nursery and head to the kitchen. Everything has to seem normal this morning. My actions, my words, my body language. None of it can hint that I am anything but the perfect, God-fearing wife Colin believes me to be. We cannot risk his doubt leading to our being caught attempting to flee. It would be a death sentence.
“Good morning,” I greet softly as he walks into the room, keeping my eyes on the floor. A cup of coffee is extended in my hand, and his breakfast is waiting at the table. Exactly the way he likes it.
“I’ll be traveling today. Prepare my suit and a light lunch.”
“Yes, sir,” I promise, biting my tongue to keep my expression blank. He doesn’t spare me another glance as he saunters to the table to eat. With his attention redirected, I hurry into the kitchen to pack his lunch and wash our dishes, trying not to give him a reason to speak to me again. When he leaves halfan hour later, I wilt against the kitchen wall. Every crunch of gravel beneath his tires is a piece of kindling fueling the angry fire inside me.
As soon as I am sure he is gone, I rush into the nursery and place Kaitlin in her crib. There is a loose board at the back of her dresser where I hid the phone the DAU gave me to contact them. I pull it away, grunting with the effort it takes. The phone slides easily from its hiding spot, and it powers on quickly. Already charged from the last time I used it.
I make sure the baby is still sleeping and leave her be while I rush to my bedroom to pack. The phone is to my ear, the call connecting, when I hear the front door open and close. Panic has my heart beating frantically in my chest. I shove the suitcase back into the bottom of my closet, tucking the phone inside its pocket. My sleep shirt hits the floor, and a sweater waits in my hands when the bedroom door swings open.
Instead of Colin standing there, I come face-to-face with my mother, taking away any chance I had of fleeing today.
“Here.” I startle at the sound of Shepherd’s gruff voice, hand slapping over my mouth when my nausea returns full force. It doesn’t help, and I quickly find myself back over the toilet. Shepherd swears, sitting something on the counter before he gathers my hair away from my face and rubs my back. Having him see me like this is embarrassing. Morning sickness may be a normal part of pregnancy, but I doubt I will ever get used to someone watching me puke.
“Thanks,” I rasp when my stomach finally stops heaving. I wipe the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand, hoping he assumes they are from getting sick and not from me remembering how deeply I’ve failed my children.
The sink turns on seconds before a wet washcloth presses into my hands. I wipe my face with it, enjoying the cool temperature against my skin. After dropping it into the laundry basket, he offers me a bottle of water. I shake my head, putting one hand on the lip of the tub to force myself to stand. I need to brush my teeth first.
“Let me help.” His hands grip under my arms, and he lifts me to my feet with ease. I’m six months pregnant and nearly as big as a house, yet he didn’t even break a sweat pulling me up from the floor.Why is that turning me on?
Once I am steady, I find myself millimeters from his chest. His very naked chest. Firm pecs lead to a soft stomach, and a trail of dark blonde hair that dips below the waist of his dark joggers. Realizing where I am looking, I shoot my eyes up to the ceiling, cheeks burning. “T-thanks. Again.”
Shepherd chuckles, the sound shooting straight to my core, and steps back, giving me space to breathe. I inhale sharply, which is a mistake. The summery, slightly tart scent of something citrus mixes with the woodsy, dark notes of sandalwood. It’s mesmerizing, even the small whiff I manage to capture as his scent cancelers wear off. Some innate part of me craves it, wants to bury myself in his arms and never let go.
Our bond.It has to be that, right? Urging us together?
Shaking my head, I step to the sink and grab my toothbrush and toothpaste. I don’t need to worry about Fate-matched mates. Especially not one who watched me wretch into the toilet for five minutes.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, spinning around to see him hovering in the doorway.
His eyes narrow, scanning me from head to toe clinically. “No, and even if I were, I can make myself something to eat.”
This again. I can’t help but roll my eyes. He and Foster have been determined to stop me from cooking and cleaning. Like light chores will somehow make me go into labor early. Caring for the men in my life was literally beaten into my body as I was growing up. We’re taught that a woman’s role is to serve, to breed, and to rear children. Completing tasks like cooking three meals a day, doing laundry, and cleaning the house aren’t things I can skip. Panic floods me at the thought.
It will take time and therapy to break myself of these instincts.
What else am I supposed to do while we are trapped here? If I sit and rest, my mind will wander, and I will start to imagine what a life with these two could be like. That is a path I cannot afford to go down until I know where my marriage to Colin lies. Infidelity is one of the many lines I will not cross.
Who knows if Foster and Shepherd will even want to stay after they realize the extent of the damage I am bringing into their lives? It will hurt when all of this is ripped away from me. As soon as the DAU thinks we are safe, they might go back to their lives, leaving me to figure out what my future looks like without them.
Shepherd frowns, the skin between his brows wrinkling as I push past him and head to my room. If they don’t want me to cook, then I will take advantage of the few hours longer that Kaitlin will sleep and try to get some more rest as much as the tiny human growing inside me will allow.
Arms smack against my head, waking me from my restless sleep. A glance out the window tells me it is mid-morning. The sun is still rising in the sky, not yet hot enough to make the room unbearable. If today is anything like yesterday, we will wind up enjoying the small pool the guys set up for Kaitlin. She loves being in the water. Bath time, pool time, it doesn’t matter to her.
“Little Bug,” I grumble when her leg swings over mine, putting more pressure on my protesting bladder. Leaving her starfished across the mattress, I take a few minutes to sort myself out in the bathroom. Despite the few extra hours of sleep this morning, I’m dragging my feet. So tired, it’s hard to keep my eyes open. If we are going to be at the safe house for more than another week or two, I might need to ask Shepherd about getting a cot or toddler bed for Kaitlin to sleep in. She rolls too much for me to rest comfortably beside her.
Peeking back into the bedroom after using the bathroom, I can’t hide my smile when hazel eyes blink at me from beneath messy brown hair. “Good morning, bug. Are you hungry?” She nods, rubbing her face and holding her arms out to me. Lifting her against my hip has pain shooting through my back, so I carefully slide her to her feet. “Sorry, baby, I don’t think Mommy can carry you this morning.”
She doesn’t complain, accepting my hand instead. I send her into the bathroom to pee and brush her teeth, telling her to meet me in the kitchen when she is finished. I hesitate outside the door, waiting to make sure she doesn’t have any issues getting onto the potty.
“Good morning, Angel!” Foster sings as I exit the hallway. He’s dancing around the kitchen shirtless.Sweet fates, why are both these men so damn gorgeous?! His athletic build is still slender, not packed with muscle the way Shepherd’s body is. Freckles splatter across his chest and upper arms. Is it weird that I want to trace them? With my tongue?
Shoot!No, Hannah! Stop thinking sexy thoughts about the male Omega!
