Page 55 of Forced Knocked-Up Mate

“Lucy, wait,” I say, going after her. “Did you want to… eat dinner together or something?”

Her beautiful blue eyes widen in surprise. She stares at me and looks me up and down as if to check it’s still me.

“Okay,” she says hesitantly. “That sounds nice. I’ll look around in the kitchen after I get out of the shower.”

“I’ll go take a look,” I answer. “You just relax.”

“Don’t burn the kitchen down,” she teases, grinning.

I give her a mock salute. “I’ll follow that order to the best of my ability.”

“We’re doomed,” she says, laughing. “Thank you, Peter.”

“No problem,” I reply, watching her disappear down the hall.

What the fuck am I doing?

I shake my head as I walk into the kitchen, not knowing how to answer my own question. Since I first woke up this morning, my head and my heart have been reaching in opposite directions, trying to tear me in two. Even though I still don’t really want to be stuck here in a marriage with Lucy, or with responsibilities to the pack, I can’t deny how good it feels to be part of something.

I spent my whole life alone. No one ever had my back. Now it feels like I’ve got someone on my side… like I have a family.

I start rummaging through the cupboards and fridge, looking for something to cook for dinner. Even though I’ve done okay at the bakery, I had a cookbook to follow. I have no such luck in Lucy’s pantry. Eventually, I find a frozen lasagna I can bake, with idiot-proof instructions on the package.

So, does this mean I’m staying forever? Do I really want this… and do I want Lucy?

My stomach does a nervous little flip as I think about the boring, repetitive routines of the people who consider themselves to be “normal.” Sensible bedtimes. Getting up early. Healthy dinners and workouts at the gym. The idea of my life being reduced to constant, mindless activities grips my heart in an icy, vice-like grip of fear.

“Did you find something?” Lucy asks, coming into the kitchen behind me.

Suddenly, it feels like the walls are suffocating me. All I can think about is running—away from Lucy, the pack, and all the responsibilities placed upon me by both.

Then I turn around and look at her.

She’s wearing a long, white nightgown that frames her shoulders with delicate lace and falls from her wide hips in silky folds all the way to the floor. Her dark hair curls around her face in damp tendrils, and her blue eyes are as clear and bright as a tropical sea.

For all her beauty, it is her expression that catches me beyond all else. She looks hesitant, maybe even scared.

There it is.

I try to look calm as the realization hits me with the force of a freight train.

I don’t want to hurt her.

All my urges to run, to push her away, or make the situation more uncomfortable than it has to be are still there, but I’m holding them in because I don’t want to see that hurt look on her face anymore.

All I want is to see that beautiful smile. The same one I saw last night, after we made love under the stars.

“Is that lasagna?” she asks, coming over to look in the oven.

“Yeah,” I say. “It seemed like the easiest thing to make.”

“Good plan,” she says. “I can throw together a salad to go with it.”

“Sounds dangerous,” I joke.

She winks at me. “I promise I’ll toss it with less than lethal force.”

I can’t stop the amused smile that spreads across my face, or the warmth in my chest.

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