He’s circling my belly, his caress distracting enough that it takes a second longer to realise he’s caught up with my thoughts. I drop the earrings on the side and turn to meet his gaze, but the truth sits unspoken on my tongue. Still unwilling. Unready. Almost fearful.
‘You didn’t finish your champagne at breakfast,’ he saysquietly. ‘Or the wine with dinner. And you refused the brandy after.’
I swallow. ‘Do you think everyone noticed?’
‘I think they were too swept up in Sadie’s news…’
Relief softens my shoulders. It feels silly to be so careful when I don’t even know yet… but even sillier to say it aloud.
And I don’t want to be wrong.
‘It’s just good to be careful,’ I hedge, interlinking my fingers with his.
‘I wondered if… I thought…’ His hesitancy tugs at my heart as he lowers his gaze to my stomach. ‘Maybe you knew.’
‘No.’ My voice breaks a little. ‘Not for sure.’
His eyes lift back to mine, and the flare of hope – pure, unguarded, fierce – knocks the breath from my lungs.
‘But you think it’s possible?’
‘Youwerethere every time we didn’t use protection, right?’ I let a teasing smile soften the moment, before I give him my truth. ‘But yes. I’m late. Two days.’
‘Tay—’
‘But I’ve been late before, Ax. I’ve seen signs, suspected, and then…’ I swallow down the mixed tide of emotions and see him do the same, his throat working as he nods.
‘But Idofeel different,’ I admit, looking down at our entwined fingers over my flat stomach and willing it true. ‘And hearing the news from Sadie…’
‘It feels like it’s meant to be,’ he finishes, voice barely above a breath.
‘Yes.’
His eyes burn darker than ever as they return to mine. ‘I didn’t think I could ever want you more… but the idea of my baby growing inside you right now…’
Heat surges through me and I lean in, brushing my lips against his… ‘Then take me to bed or lose me forever.’
He laughs, the sound low and warm and full of the history between us.
‘I’ll never forget the day you made me watch that with you.’ He sweeps me up into his arms. ‘I was eighteen and naïve enough to think it was all about the Jets.’
‘I was sixteen,’ I say, looping my arms around his neck, ‘and naïve enough to think tough boys never cried.’
‘He’d just lost his best mate.’
‘I’m not talking about Maverick.’
He stops, mid-stride. ‘I didn’t cry.’
‘You did,’ I say softly, threading my fingers through his hair until he meets my gaze. ‘It was the first time I saw a glimpse of the real you: the boy hiding behind all that bravado. And now…’ I stroke my thumb along his cheek. ‘Now I get the man who doesn’t need the mask any more. And I love you even more for it.’
Axel
I’m suspended in that strange space between waking and sleeping, Taylor’s naked body curled around mine, her soft little whimpers tugging at something deep and primal in me.
Will this ever ease?
This bone-deep need to hold her, to be inside her, to make her mine in every way that counts?
