Page 49 of Accidental Groom
“Yeah.” I squeeze her hand. “It’s real.”
Finally, she looks at me.
I don’t make some sweeping gesture, I don’t make a promise I can’t keep. Not when we’ve been tiptoeing around each other for two months, not when I avoid her as much as I can to keep myself from fucking her when temptation gets too much — not like that’s done any good, now. I just hold her hand, lifting it to my chest so she can feel my heartbeat beneath her fingers.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, though I’m not sure if it’s a vow or a threat in her eyes.
She nods, just once, then leans forward. Not for a kiss, not for anything other than a hint of comfort. Her forehead slumps against my shoulder, and I let her, trying not to let the tide pull us both under.
Because I have no goddamn clue what to do about this, either.
Chapter 15
Elena
The water is lukewarm at best now, but I don’t care.
My fingers trail through the surface, sending little ripples skittering out toward the edges of the clawfoot tub as I lean my head back and stare at the ceiling. Every muscle in my body feels like it’s been broken down, like something inside me cracked open yesterday and the pieces haven’t figured out how to glue themselves back together.
Five weeks.
That morning in the woods. The first time we’d actually had sex.
The man must have fucking super-sperm.
I’d asked him to let me take the rest of the day yesterday to come to terms with it on my own. I hadn’t made much progress, though, because I’m still reeling over the entire thing. My hand settles on the softness of my stomach, struggling to really put two and two together. It doesn’tlooklike I’m pregnant, but of course it wouldn’t. Five weeks is barely anything. But now that I know… itfeelsdifferent, like a whisper under my skin, like some strange, tiny flicker of life calling out from inside of me.
A soft knock rattles the bathroom door, and I realize just how much I’d drifted into my own head. I hadn’t even heard the front door open.
“Elena?”
Harry.I let out a breath. “It’s not locked.”
The door creaks open slowly, and he pauses on the threshold. I sit forward, drawing my knees up, my arms folded around them. The bathwater is a little cloudy from the eucalyptus bath bomb I’d dumped into it earlier, but I don’t bother covering myself.
He’s seen me bare. He’stouchedme bare. Right now, modesty isn’t even in my top fifty concerns.
Harry doesn’t look away, but he doesn’t stare either. He steps in, letting his gaze drop to the tub only briefly before meeting my gaze again. He sinks down on one knee beside the tub, shifting so his leg is under him fully, his other bent upright, his arms resting on it like he’s accepted his fate of seeing me like this.
“How are you feeling today?”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Tired. Nauseous. Emotional,” I mumble. “That’s the short list.”
He hums softly, rubbing a hand over his freshly trimmed jaw. His hair’s still damp from a shower, curling slightly at the ends, and the silver looks darker like this, almost stormy. Everything I thought I knew about him right now feels muted — calm, but rattled. He’s wearing a soft, grey t-shirt and black lounge pants, but somehow still looks like the most expensive man in the goddamn world.
“I’m still working through it,” he admits. “I won’t lie to you and say I’m entirely fine with this.”
I nod and rest my chin on my knee. “I know. I’m not either.”
Silence stretches for a moment, his eyes lingering on me, his lips pressing into a soft line. “You want to keep it.”
It’s not a question, but I nod anyway.
He watched me, not judging, justseeing. “Can I ask why without you assuming the worst of me?”
I snort, adjusting my head slightly and averting my gaze, and shrug noncommittally. “I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to be a mother,” I say, my voice a little weak. “Even when I was little. I used to push Sarah around in our stroller like she was my own kid, even though she was only a year younger than me.”
His mouth twitches. “I think that’s most kids.”
