“Sure,” I muttered, not meaning it at all.Telling me not to think about something was like erecting a huge billboard with the word ‘Worry’ in big, bold, neon letters.
We lapsed into silence and at first it was oddly comfortable.Probably because we both had headaches.Then my curiosity went into overdrive and I knew I was in trouble.
Silenceandcuriosity made a poisonous combo.The silence was killing me, and my curiosity was eating at me from the inside out.
Still.
A big part of me wanted to know why he put himself between me and a gun, and a smaller part of me figured that was dangerous information.I supposed I needed to thank him.But, he could have been shot and I had no idea why that made me so angry.
“Stop thinking so hard.You’re making my headache worse,” he said.
My head snapped up and I sliced my gaze to him.“I’m makingyourheadache worse?You’ve got yourself to blame, buster.”
He stared at me.Those blue eyes unreadable and unnerving.
My ears rang with the punishing quiet and I couldn’t stop myself.
“Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Get between me and that asshole?”
He looked away from me.“It doesn’t matter.”
“Putting yourself in that kind of danger always matters, Ryan.I just don’t know why you’d do it.”
That earned me his full attention.“You’re pregnant.Someone has to protect you and your baby.”
Much of my body dropped: my stomach pitched, my heart sank, and my mouth fell open while my eyes widened.
Then a deep-rooted, soul-lightening laughter bubbled up from my belly.I threw my head back and let it rip, even though it made my head throb.
Who’d have thought I’d laugh my head off during my first (and hopefully last) kidnapping?
That thought brought on another wave of hysteria and I clutched my stomach – which instantly reminded me of his words and I sobered.
“What the hell is so funny?”he demanded.
“You think I’m pregnant.”
Healmosthid his lip curl.“Why else would you be looking for Lark about aprivatematter.You’re exactly the type he goes for.”
Ulk.More than I needed to know.
“You are…you couldn’t be more wrong,” I said, then held up a hand.“Come to think of it, no, you’re maybe twenty-five percent right.”
His eyes narrowed.“That’s nonsense.I’m either right or I’m wrong.There’s no percentages to it.”
I crossed my arms.“Is that why you have a problem with me?You think I’m pregnant.”
He hissed out a humorless chuckle.“No.It’s that a woman should know better and keep herself protected.After today, I see staying safe is a challenge for you.”
I pursed my lips then powered through my anger.“We’ll get to that last part in a moment, but do you really believe it’s the woman’s responsibility to prevent a pregnancy?”
He sighed.“No, it’s on Lark, too – hell, as often as he taps twenty-something-year-old ass, I’m shocked he didn’t take better care.”
So much to unpack here.
