Colin and I have been best mates since we were kids. I don’t want to choose between him and his daughter, and I won’t be the one to ruin their relationship, but if it comes down to a choice, I won’t abandon my angel. I’ll be whatever she wants me to be until the day she doesn’t want me anymore. Because let’s face it, nothing lasts.
Angelica pads down the stairs in loungewear, drying her wet hair with a towel. “Was everything all right with Dad?”
“You need to call him. He’s been trying to get hold of you.” I walk over to her in the open-plan kitchen and press my lips against her forehead, needing the contact for myself as much as for her.
She nods. “I need to charge my phone.”
I scratch the back of my head, guilt still prickling my throat. “We need to talk.”
“Don’t do that, Sawyer.” She turns around, pulling out a frying pan from the cupboard. “I’m not a silly girl who thinks just because we slept together, we’re now going to get married.” The frying pan clatters against the hob.
I hold my hands up in surrender as she grabs an egg from the rack.
“You’ve made it crystal clear that you don’t do relationships and I expect nothing from you.” She cracks the egg into the pan as if cracking a piece of my heart.
“You don’t?” My brow furrows.
“No. We can both enjoy each other while we’re here and then carry on with our lives in the New Year.”
“Oh, sweetheart. You thought you’d take my cock for a test drive and then move on with your life?” I chuckle to myself. “Cute.”
She twists a foot on the pad of her fluffy slipper, the other foot resting against her shin like a flamingo. “What are you saying?”
I slide my hand over the soft wool of her lounge set, over her breasts until I reach her neck where I gently wrap my fingers around her throat, feeling her pulse pick up speed. “Did I not make myself clear last night?”
Her eyes widen, but it’s not fear. It’s excitement.
“That’s right, baby girl. You’re mine now.” I crash my lips to hers, showing her just how much I own her, in case my words aren’t clear enough. My tongue tangles with hers, showing her who’s in charge, but I keep my hand gentle yet firm around her throat, willing myself to not lose control again. She needs to heel. But one kiss. Just one kiss is all I need to remind her of my claim.
Needing a breath, I reluctantly break the seal of our mouths and inhale a lungful of air, panting heavily.
She’s breathless, cheeks flushed. Beautiful. Mine.
“I only wanted to talk about contraception.” I take over the breakfast she’s started, before the egg frazzles to a crisp.
“Oh.” She opens the fridge and hands me the bacon. “I’m not on any.” She gulps, her brow knitted as if she’s in trouble, and I hate that she feels that she should take any responsibility for this. This is all on me.
“I figured as much with it being your first.” My hand reaches for hers and I bring it to my lips to reassure her. “I’ll walk into town today and get you the morning-after pill from the chemist. This is my mess and I’ll fix it.”
“Is that what you think this is? A mess?” Her fist clenches around the key necklace I bought her for her twenty-first. It occurs to me she’s the only woman I’ve ever put any real thought into when buying gifts. This girl means everything to me and I’m ashamed of how I treated her last night.
“I should have worn a condom, but I didn’t have my wallet on me and—” I run a hand over my face, letting out a long breath. “There’s a lot of things I should have and shouldn’t have done and I’m fucking sorry, angel. But I am clean. You don’t need to worry about that.”
She seems disappointed. I’m disappointed in myself. But I’ll put this right. There’s no way I’m trapping the lass with my kid, no matter how much the idea of her belly growing with my child turns me the fuck on.
18
ANGELICA
Istir awake to the crackling of the log fire. A few lights twinkle on the tree, the aroma of Christmas in the air, and Sawyer hovering above me, with a blanket.
He tucks it around me, then kisses my lips. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”
“How long have you been back?” The moon shines through the window, telling me it’s evening already.
“About half an hour.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a packet. “The chemist said it can cause nausea and vomiting, cramps, headaches. There’s a list of side effects on the leaflet inside. I’m so sorry, angel.” His large hand covers his face as he hangs his head low, then he moves his palm down and rubs his finger and thumb under his eyes with a long exhale.
“Will you stop saying sorry? I’m as much to blame forthis messas you are.” I use his words, not mine. As far as I’m concerned, this isn’t a mess at all. I want this. I want him and I want nothing more than to have his baby. That’s if I’m even pregnant. I read this afternoon that there’s a thirty percent chance of getting pregnant from your first time. You’d have to bevery unlucky to have that happen, or extremely lucky, depending on which way you look at it.
