Page 48 of After-Party Consequences

It made him ashamed for having once dismissed her as spoilt and entitled when she’d been the opposite. But her open, generous nature also made him wary. Was he becoming too dependent on her company? That kinetic connection? The spectacular chemistry? Should he be weaning himself off her before her pregnancy became more pronounced? He couldn’t afford to get suckered into needing anyone. He’d been there as a kid, and it had nearly destroyed him.

He strolled out of the shower, feeling the familiar throb of awareness when her gaze skimmed over him. Colour heightened her cheeks as she looked away again.

‘I should probably head to the other bathroom to get ready for tonight,’ she said, all business. ‘What’s the dress code again?’

‘Smart casual, I guess,’ he said, trying to remember what event it was and why he had accepted the invitation—when all he wanted to do right now was have her again.

He hooked a towel around his waist, but when she headed past him, he grabbed her hand. ‘We don’t have to go if you’re tired.’

She blushed, then smiled—the dazzling smile which always made his heartbeat slow.

‘Hmm...’ she said, stroking her chin like a professor discovering the meaning of life. ‘Is that a Landry euphemism for “Why don’t I jump you again so I can tire you out even more?”’

He tugged her into his arms, enjoying the way she always challenged him, the hunger increasing. ‘You got me,’ he murmured.

‘Not gonna happen, Galahad,’ she said, dancing free, still smiling provocatively. She took a few more steps back as she wrapped the towel tighter. ‘This is another great opportunity to show off one of my creations, which I am not about to throw away because you are completely insatiable. So have a cold shower and I’ll see you in the lobby in twenty looking fabulous.’

He swore under his breath, really wishing he hadn’t accepted the invite. He didn’t want to share her for the rest of the evening with anyone.

He forced himself to ignore the thought.

The plan—such as it was—had never been to keep her forever. It was time he started getting a handle on this obsession.

But as she walked away, the yearning gripped his chest regardless. And it occurred to him it was going to be a lot harder than he had ever thought it would be to let her go. Eventually.

She turned at the door.

‘Changed your mind?’ he quipped.

‘Nope,’ she said despite the flush of arousal. ‘I forgot to tell you. My first sonogram is next week. Dr Chen has scheduled it for the Friday before Labor Day. I thought...’ She hesitated, panic stabbed under his breastbone.

‘Is there a problem?’ Was there something she wasn’t telling him? ‘With the baby?’

‘Oh, no, not at all,’ she said. Relief made him feel light-headed as she continued. ‘I just thought you might like to put it in your diary...so you can come, too.’

He opened his mouth ready to say he’d be there. He wanted to see the life growing inside her. He’d thought about it often, especially late at night, when she was sleeping and the thoughts he couldn’t control bombarded him.

Would his child—theirchild—be a boy or a girl? Would it have her charisma? His drive? What would they call it?

But right alongside those thoughts had been the yearning which he recognised from long ago. The desire to belong, to be a part of a family, to have someone care for him, the way his own mother never had. The yearning which had never been fulfilled. And could destroy him if he gave in to it again.

With that yearning came the memory of fear and panic, the scent of floor cleaner and the gentle voice of the guard asking,Where are your folks, boy?

He swallowed the knee-jerk answer and took a mental step back.

‘You sure that’s smart?’ he asked, trying to think of a viable excuse not to go. ‘We don’t want to get photographed going into an obstetric clinic together. Because that would reignite the press attention we don’t want.’

‘I see your point,’ Charley said carefully. Even though she didn’t.

It had taken her days to mention the appointment to him. Because she wanted so desperately for him to come. But she had been waiting for an opportunity to mention it, and it hadn’t materialized.

Cade never willingly spoke about the baby.

She’d tried to convince herself that was normal. That men probably didn’t really connect with their baby until it felt more tangible to them, more real.

And he seemed invested in the pregnancy itself—insisting on cooking nutritious and delicious meals for her. And always asking her how she was feeling. She’d noticed the careful way he caressed her breasts when they made love, aware of how sensitive they had become. And she loved the possessive way he rested his palm on her belly, where their baby grew, when he thought she was asleep.

So many times she had wanted to turn over and ask him what he was feeling, what he was thinking. But she’d held back, scared to risk breaking cover. All her old insecurities told her she might not get the answer she wanted, so it was better not to ask.

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