Page 61 of Broken King

They looked happy.

But of all people, I should know that looks can be deceiving. I’m generally the one orchestrating the deception. Public relations is perception. Perception can be based on deception just as easily as truth.

Cade surprises me when he wraps his arms around me in a firm embrace.

Suspecting he needs this right now, I wrap my arms around his waist hesitantly.

His chin rests on the top of my head, and one hand moves up to the back of my neck. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight, duchess.”

We’re both quiet for a moment until a throat clearing breaks our bubble. “And on that note, I’m going to my room. Goodnight.” Imogen grabs a water bottle from the counter and practically runs from the room.

I tilt my head back to say something, but Cade’s lips brush against mine and suspend me in the moment. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Scarlet. But I guess I can’t avoid filling you in on Daria, considering, as much as I wish it weren’t true, she’s the mother of my child.” His eyes soften. “Well, the mother of my oldest child.”

He takes a step back and tugs me with him into the connected family room and down onto his oversized, black suede couch. Cade’s elbows rest on his knees for a moment before he scrubs his hands over his face and through his hair. “That woman will never stop astounding me.”

I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. So I just listen.

I listen to Cade tell me the story of Daria and him.

The story of a fighter enjoying his success and everything that came with it. Including Daria. Of how she wanted more, but he didn’t. Not with her. Of how she eventually tried to hurt him by keeping Brynlee from him before that backfired. And how she now wants him to be her personal ATM.

Bitch.

Just as he finishes telling me his story, it happens again.

That thing from earlier.

“Cade...” I grab his hand. “I came for a reason.”

“What? Shit, Scarlet, I’m sorry. Did you need something?”

I ignore his words and place his palm flat over the right side of my slightly less than flat abdomen. Then wait.

“Scarlet?”

“Just wait,” I whisper.

He moves his hand slightly, so I give in and guide his palm through the opening of my wrap dress and let it rest on my skin, the heat sending frissons of awareness through my soul.

And then it happens again.

Cade scoots closer to me, eyes wide with shock and glee. “Was that...?”

I nod, my throat clogging with emotions.

“I thought it was too early for this.” His other hand cups my face, and the tears in his eyes, mirroring mine, let me know he feels the next flutter too. “I can feel our baby.” The unmitigated awe in his voice is one of the most incredible things I’ve ever heard.

“She did it when I got in the car to go home. So I came here instead.”

Cade pulls me to him, tucking me under one arm.

His other hand still resting on my stomach. My head resting on his chest.

We sit like that for a while.

Neither of us speaking.

Not wanting to ruin the moment with bickering or banter.

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