Page 81 of Amor Prohibido

Jace moved back a pace but held my face in his hands, his thumbs constantly swiping at my stream of tears. His jaw worked moodily, and his storm-ridden gaze bored into mine for a long minute before he finally spoke.

“I’ll be back in an hour. Then we talk.”

“Two.”

His nostrils flared in bridled rage. “Fine.Twohours. Just…” he trailed off and his expression grew solemn. It broke me so fucking hard. “Promise me you’ll be here when I get back.”

I barely nodded and leaned into the kiss he lingered on my forehead.

Then he was gone.

The front door vibrating in his wake.

And I was alone with my heart in my hands and his children in my womb.

* * *

Submerged in cold bath water, two hours later, my hearing pricked up when the front door opened. I tracked his footsteps through the house as Jace searched for me, but my pride stopped me from calling for help.

Embarrassingly, I couldn’t get myself out of the bath. I couldn’t even manoeuvre my body enough to pull out the plug. I was literally beached, and my skin was paying the price.

Waterlogged and pruny, my fingers had long lost sensitivity. I thought endlessly about the whole Jace and Nat situation while smoothing my hand in loving circles over my big belly.

Jace’s search grew increasingly frantic, and he smashed through the bathroom door so violently it swung back and cracked into the wall. The relief on his face was immeasurable when he clapped eyes on me. It quickly gave way to confusion, then concern, then confusion again.

“There you are!”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you call out?”

I shrugged, causing ripples along the surface of the otherwise tranquil bathwater. “I figured you’d find me eventually.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked me over. “Are you okay?”

“I’m stuck,” I deadpanned.

“Huh?”

“I can’t get out,” I hissed.

I saw a hint of hidden humour sparkle in his eyes. “Don’t you fuckingdarelaugh, Jason.”

He jerked his head sideways to pull himself into check, then reached for me. “Not laughing. Here, let me help you.”

Silently thanking him over and over, I reached for his arms and gripped. “Just because I’m accepting your help doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about earlier,” I reminded him with a grunt as he hauled me to my feet and steadied me.

He handed me a towel—seriousness and tension having returned to his expression. “I haven’t forgotten either, J. I’ll meet you in the lounge when you’re done.”

The door clicked shut behind him, giving me privacy to dress.

Two hours had done little to settle the whirlwind in my heart. My initial thought was that Jace had turned his back on a baby that was his because he couldn’t stand his ex. That thought alone almost made me physically ill. My second thought, once I calmed down, was that Natalie and Jace had history on an intimate level, but that alone wasn’t reason enough to explain Jace’s explosive reaction. Whatever was in their past, it wasn’t pleasant.

I took my time slathering moisturiser from my hairline to toenail, paying extra attention to my stomach and sides that somehow kept expanding well past the point of splitting. I’d come to terms with the stretch marks that now marred my skin. Some days they really bothered me until I reminded myself that they were mementos of my body growing not one, buttwohumans. They were my battle scars. I would carry them for life, and I vowed to wear them with pride.

Finally waddling into the living room, I found Jace kicked back on the couch watching sport replays, jigging his foot impatiently. An empty beer bottle sat on the coffee table and a full one in his hand, plus a glass of orange juice waiting for me.

Jace flicked off the TV and sat up straighter as soon as he saw me and waited until I was seated comfortably in my favourite air-conditioned chair before he launched into an explanation.

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