Page 121 of Bloodstained Wings

I nod. “I know that, but part of that means letting me in. It means telling me what’s on your mind so you don’t have to go through any of this alone.”

Carter exhales and presses his forehead to mine. “I’m not the hearts and feelings type, Isabella. You’ve always known this about me. Don’t ask me to be something I’m not.”

Nor would I.

I fell in love with Carter because of his strength, loyalty to the people he loves, and willingness to do what needs to be done. Even getting his hands dirty.

With Carter, I feel something I’ve never felt before.

I feel safe.

Safer than I’ve felt in years, despite the chaotic and messy life I’ve been dragged into and Carter’s endless slew of enemies who are willing to play dirty and go to whatever lengths they need to in order to win. While I know that Carter doesn’t have the moral high ground, not by any stretch of the imagination, I at least know that he does have some boundaries.

Carter would never go after their families. No matter how far they pushed him.

Knowing that gives me some comfort, making me feel like he might accept our baby after all. Over the past few days, I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to tell him. Unfortunately, the harder I try to find the courage to tell him the truth, the more complicated it gets.

Because I know this isn’t the right time.

With everything going on, there’s never going to be a right time.

When Carter pulls away to look at me, I take his hand and lead him to the bed. Despite his insistence on maintaining control over every aspect of his life, including where I’m involved, Carter doesn’t protest. He doesn’t even protest when I push him onto the bed and climb onto his lap. In silence, he wraps his arms around my waist and tilts his head back to look up at me.

“I love you, Carter Blackthorne. I know you know that, but I need you to believe it.” I place a hand over his chest and look into his eyes. “Whenever things get tough, whenever they get to be too much, I want you to remember that. Remember me and what we’re fighting for.”

Carter makes a low noise in the back of his throat. In one quick move, he shifts me so I’m on the mattress, and he’s on top of me. He lowers his head to kiss me, and it feels different, sweeter, like he’s trying to make me understand something he can’t put into words.

It makes butterflies erupt in my stomach. My entire body feels on fire like I’m going to burn from the inside out. But I don’t care, not as long Carter is the one who is fanning the flames.

He and I could burn together, and it wouldn’t matter.

I kiss him back with just as much fervor and just as much passion. However, when I move to deepen the kiss and link my legs around his waist, he stops. Reluctantly, he wrenches his lips away and looks down at me as if he’s trying to commit me to memory. I give him a confused look and wriggle against him.

“What’s happening? Why did you stop?”

Carter frames my face in his hands and says nothing. “War is coming, dove. I’ve done my best to avoid it, but I don’t have a choice anymore. It’s not just going to be against the Philipses and the Natoris. It’s against the mayor too. He’s a fucking snake, but he’s a lot more resourceful than I gave him credit for.”

“Can’t you ask the Donahues to help?”

Carter frowns. “No.”

I sit up on my elbows and huff. “Why not? Rich has already proven his worth more than once. Please don’t tell me it’s about those stupid pictures that were posted of us. He doesn’t mean anything to me, Carter. You know that.”

Carter’s expression darkens as he leans back and scowls. “We are not talking about Rich fucking Donahue anymore.”

“Carter, don’t be stubborn. You need his help, his resources—”

“I said we’re not talking about him anymore,” Carter replies, his voice rising toward the end. “I’m not discussing this anymore, dove. You need to stop pushing.”

I open my mouth to protest, see the look on his face, and slam it shut. I don’t want to keep having the same argument.

With a sigh, I fall back against the mattress, and Carter curls up against me. He sleeps on his side, so he’s facing me, and I let my eyes move over every inch of him.

Like I’m trying to carve his features into my brain. I want him committed to my memory and engraved on my heart.

“I was thinking about the wedding,” I whisper, pausing to link my fingers together. “How would you feel about somewhere tropical? I can’t remember the last time I went to the beach.”

“Whatever you want, dove.”

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