Page 19 of His Curvy Temptress

Rage billows through me. “What?” I hiss, praying I misheard her. There’s no fucking way that bastard did that to her.

“He threw all my stuff out onto the yard. It’s all ruined,” she says. “It was raining, and I had no way of saving them all.”

Christ. I’m going to fucking kill that motherfucking bastard. “How did you get home?”

She shrugs. “I walked. I sat on their porch for a while, wondering what I was going to do. I had no cell or car. I just cried.”

The nonchalant way she’s speaking just adds to my fury. I know she’s making it seem as though it’s okay because she doesn’t want me to lose my damn mind. But it’s too late.

“Let me get this straight,” I growl, the rumble comes from low within my chest. “That fucker disconnected your cell, towed your fucking car, threw your belongings out in the rain, and cut you off financially?”

“It’s okay,” she says as she leans against me. “I’m okay. They’re just things. I don’t need them. I can buy new clothes, I have most of them here anyway. I can get a new plan for my cell and buy my own car. I have my own damn money. I don’t need his.”

I run my hand down her hair. “Baby, I love that you’re independent and can do all those things, but that’s beside the fucking point.”

“She looks up at me. “He hurt me today by doing that, but you can’t go to him. He’s just lost his wife and is grieving. Let him grieve. Okay?”

She’s beyond crazy if she thinks I’m going to let this lie.

“Please, Abel, just let it be. For me and for Maggie?”

I grit my teeth. “Fine,” I grunt. She’s got me wrapped around her damn finger.

“I’m hungry, I’m not in the mood for cooking, I’ll order in. Maybe call your parents and see if they want to join us?” she whispers, leaning up and pressing a kiss against my lips. “I’m not sure if he’s called them yet.”

I grip her hips, my cock thickening, but this isn’t the time to take her. “You sure about that?” I ask, wondering if having my parents here when she’s grieving is the right thing to do.

She nods. “Yes,” she assures me. “I’m going to dry my hair and get ready. I’ll order once I’m done. You finish up.” She glances down at my cock and smirks. “I’ll take care of you later.”

“Alexis,” I call out once she’s wrapped up in a towel, one around her body, the other on her head. “I love you, baby girl.”

Her eyes go soft, and her lips part. “I love you too.”

I finish up in the shower, trying to get my cock to calm the fuck down. Thankfully it does. When I exit the shower, I wrap a towel around my waist and pick up mine and Alexis’ clothes, throwing them into the laundry basket. As I do, I spot a white stick in the trash can. Reaching in, I pull it out, and my heart batters against my chest.

Fuck.

Pregnant.

My woman’s pregnant?

“I was going to tell you,” she whispers from the doorway. “I had hoped you’d find out better than rummaging in the trash,” she says with a smile. “I’m pregnant, honey,” her voice is so small it makes my stomach clench. “I found out this morning, and then—” she waves her hand in the air. “It got crazy.”

No fucking doubt Andrew’s shit didn’t help.

“Are you okay?” I ask, we’ve not spoken about kids. Yes, I’ve wanted to knock her up the moment we were together, but she’s young, and she’s got so many dreams, I didn’t want to take them away from her.

“I was scared and worried at first, but when I was walking home, I had a lot of time to think, and I’m happy. I want our baby, Abel, I really hope you do too.”

I cross to her, pulling her into my arms. “The moment I fucked you, I knew you were mine, Alexis, I want everything from you. Every fucking thing. Children, marriage, the works.”

Her lips part in surprise, and her eyes fill with tears. “Really?”

I nod. “Really, do you want it too?”

She grins. “I do, I want it all.”

I press my lips against hers. “Then it’s settled. You’re having my baby, and we’re getting married.”

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