Page 49 of Sinful Blaze

I’m about to shake off his offer when I realize nah, this is a win. Take the damn win, Daph. “You won’t judge me if I said double? With cheese. And all the fixings.”

“You’re pregnant. I remember how my wife was for all three kids. Steak fries?”

“God, yes. Thank you.”

He hangs up right as I start fumbling with the new door; it opens on the first try. Nice. I don’t know why he wouldn’t just give me new keys, but whatever. I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m kinda butt-hurt that I can’t drink anything until after this baby is born. Burst pipes are a hard liquor situation.

Call me crazy, but this place looks even bigger than the last one. All the lights are recessed, casting a soft glow through a large foyer and into a huge front living room decorated with chocolate woods and gold detailing.

A suede wraparound couch calls my name. I’m tempted to answer it, but I know the second I sit down, I won’t be getting back up.

I wince as I kick off my shoes. Pride said, “Wear the kitten heels,” but pregnancy is saying, “Haha, stupid bitch.” Gotta love water retention. My feet aren’t at Cabbage Patch Kids level yet, but that’s the keyword: “yet.”

Things are all gonna start changing pretty soon.

One mouth-watering double cheeseburger later, I’m finally able to shuffle myself into the master bedroom. Just like everywhere else in this penthouse, it’s all dark wood and gold hardware softened with pastel velvets. Whoever lived here, if this used to all be theirs…? Damn.

Just as Marquette promised, a lot of my new things have been transferred over here—mainly my new clothes that I just bought after the last fiasco.

There are a few pieces I don’t remember buying, but whatever. I’m too tired to care. The tags are still on so I’ll check sometime later. Way later. Whenever my feet don’t feel like lead weights I’d rather cut off.

I sweep the clothes up off the bed with every intention of hanging them up in the walk-in closet… but then I don’t. Too tired. Bed beckons. Instead, I drop them unceremoniously into a pile on the side chair and faceplant onto the super soft, warm, luxurious bed.

Smells so good. I know that scent from somewhere, but I can’t put a finger on it. It’s warm, kind of spicy, but with this comforting blend of leather and wood and something else I am just… Ugh, I want to swim in it. I already kind of am, what with the way I’m writhing my tired ass onto the mattress.

Somehow, I manage to kick off most of my clothing, save for my layering tank top and panties. I throw my bra across the room and vow to clean up before work in the morning. Right now, I just need sleep.

Even the pillows smell good. Spicier. Warmer. Like I’ve come home with some gorgeous guy from the bar and can just bury my face in his chest and breathe this in. I do just that, hugging the biggest pillow to myself and sinking into the best sleep I’ve had in weeks.

My eyes fly open.

Someone’s at the door.

At first, I think I’m dreaming. It’s way too late at night for Mr. Marquette to come by, and I already got my burger and fries. Who the hell would be coming by now?

A key slides into the lock.

Shit. Shit shit shit!

I still can’t think of who would reasonably be here. Maybe it’s not a key; maybe they’ve worked the lock and are breaking in.

I don’t know what to do. Maybe it’s Marquette after all, come back to tell me there’s a bear chomping through the wiring—because at this point, what else could go wrong?

But the footsteps are wrong. Heavier. Slower.

And the intruder doesn’t call out like Mr. Marquette would.

My heart hammers in my ears as I fumble around as quietly as I can for something heavy. I don’t care about myself as much as I’m ready to protect my baby, and dammit, I’ll go down clawing the bastard’s eyes out if I have to.

My fingers wrap around the heavy lamp of my nightstand and I yank it from the wall.

The lights are still off. Maybe whoever it is will just grab my wallet from the coffee table and get the hell out.

He doesn’t. He comes closer to the bedroom.

I quietly step to the other side of the door, forcing myself to take slow, silent breaths.

The door opens…

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