Page 36 of Just a Little Promise

Chapter Thirteen

Skye woke upon Sunday morning in bed alone—while Tripp had spent his second night on the couch. Guilt tightened her chest as she ran her hand over the cool sheets beside hers, feeling contrite for her behavior toward him when he only had good intentions when it came to protecting her.

She’d had more than enough time to indulge her sulky mood over his insistence that he stay with her until he received the information about the driver of the black sedan. She wanted to believe it was all a coincidence, but truth be told, she was feeling that old anxiety swirling inside her at the possibility that Jack was reinserting himself back into her life, and she hated that her ex still had that much power over her emotions.

She’d given herself a full day to embrace her annoyance over the entire situation, which had probably been exacerbated by her pregnancy hormones—or that’s the excuse she was telling herself anyway. Yesterday, she’d gone about her normal Saturday routine, although with Tripp glued to her side as she ran her errands and grocery shopped for the week. She even strolled through a small bookstore for a new novel and sat outdoors at her favorite café for lunch while he ate a burger and kept a watchful eye on everything going on around them.

But even knowing that Tripp was right there beside her the entire day, Skye had been hyper aware of everyone around her—cars that might be following them and anything else out of her normal routine that triggered old memories of Jack. And by the time they’d returned back to her apartment, she felt stressed-out and her nerves were stretched thin, which put her in a snappy mood.

While most men would have probably called her on her irritable attitude, Tripp had taken it all in stride, remaining calm and unaffected by her mood swings, which couldn’t have been an easy feat. When they were in her apartment, he’d given her space, even when she’d told him after dinner that she wanted to read a book in bed. Alone. And then had sequestered herself in her bedroom for the rest of the evening.

If she’d been trying to make a point to herself that she preferred being on her own and didn’t need a man in her life, her plan had backfired. She hadn’t been able to concentrate on the book she’d bought, and instead wished that she was out in the living room with Tripp, watching a movie with him. And sleeping alone in her bed when he was just one room away had been pure torture when she could have been wrapped up in his strong arms and cuddled against his chest.

The truth was... shelikedhaving Tripp at her place. And the weekend would have been so much more pleasant if she hadn’t been so sulky. It was time to snap out of her funk. She owed Tripp an apology. He deserved to have a nice day at his parent’s for Whitney’s memorial, and the last thing she wanted was any of her lingering insecurities ruining this special occasion for him.

Getting out of bed, she went into the bathroom to take care of business and brushed her teeth. Still wearing her pajamas—a cotton tank top and shorts—she padded out to the living room in search of Tripp. The blanket she’d given him was folded neatly and stacked on the pillow at the end of the couch, indicating he’d been up for a while.

She found him in the kitchen—shirtless and wearing just a pair of jeans, making a cup of coffee. The rich, fragrant scent, which normally made her crave caffeine, caused her unpredictable stomach to lurch, but not enough to send her running for the toilet, thank goodness.

She groaned in disappointment that she wasn’t going to be able to enjoy a cup. Her waves of nausea were random, and so far she couldn’t pinpoint what set off the queasy feeling, but thankfully she’d been able to maintain her composure.

He turned around at the sound she’d made, and while she blatantly admired his bare chest and sexy, sleep tousled hair, his dark green eyes dipped down to her breasts, which felt heavier and more sensitive this morning. Beneath her tank top, her nipples tightened, and her clit pulsed, reminding her what she was missing out on by imposing her no sex rule.

Tripp gradually lifted his gaze back to hers, his own desire for her evident on his face. “Morning,” he said in a neutral tone, clearly trying to be polite because he had no idea what kind of attitude he was going to get from her today. Not that she blamed him.

“Morning.” She stepped toward him, then stopped, unsure of what kind of receptionshewas going to get, either, after her prickly disposition yesterday. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry I’ve been so moody since Friday night.”

A small smile curved his sensual lips. He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a gentle, caring and very unexpected hug. Burrowing against his bare chest, she closed her eyes and absorbed his warmth, his strength, and the intoxicating male scent of his skin.

But mostly, she reveled in his easy forgiveness and unconditional acceptance. He didn’t hold a grudge for her day of crises as her ex would have, or withhold his affection, or even make her feel bad for how she’d handled things. He just accepted her—the good, the bad, and the bitchy.

“I know this isn’t easy on you, Skye,” he murmured, stroking his fingers along the back of her head, still holding her close. “But you have to know that I willalwaysprotect you, even when you don’t want me to. When it comes to you, it’s instinctive and not something I can turn off or ignore. And I’ll do the same for our child. I will always be here for you.”

His heartfelt words were like a balm to her soul, a safe haven, even. “I know,” she whispered, believing every word he said. “I appreciate the man you are, more than I can ever say.” And that was true, as well.

He lifted his head and stared down at her, saying nothing, but the tender, caring look in his eyes said everything. Her lips parted, her heart beating slow and steady and sure in her chest, and when he didn’t make the first move, she did.

Lifting up on her toes, she lightly pressed her mouth to his and kissed him—the kind that was soft and sweet and intimate, without any expectation of more. It spoke of kindness, appreciation, and reverence, and the wordsI love yourose up into her throat, aching to be let loose, but she managed to hold them back.

The sentiment came so naturally, in a way that told Skye that despite her best efforts, she’d fallen in love with Tripp all over again. Truthfully, she wasn’t shocked or surprised considering what a good man he was, but she wasn’t sure what to do with this newfound knowledge and her feelings for him. Or those insecurities and fears that were still present.

She ended the chaste kiss and stepped back, and he let her go, as if sensing she needed that space—that’s how in tune to her he always was. He didn’t say anything about that heartfelt kiss, nor did ask why she’d instigated it or what it meant.

Instead, he slid his hand beneath the hem of her tank top and gently pressed his palm to her still flat belly, as if he was touching the most precious thing in the universe. Her breath caught at the poignancy of the moment. Their baby was nothing more than a little bean so there was nothing for either of them to feel right now, except for the connection and intimacy of having created a child together.

And that seemed to be enough for him. For her, too.

He met her gaze and smiled, and she didn’t miss the sexy, possessive glimmer in his eyes. “How are you and our little sprout doing this morning?”

The nickname was silly, but she loved it. “We’re okay.”

“Good.” He caressed her belly one last time before letting his hand fall away. “Let’s figure out what we’re going to feed you two.”

She watched him head to the refrigerator to find things to make for breakfast and she knew, despite all the crazy uncertainty of the weekend tainted by worries of Jack interfering in her life once again, she and Tripp were going to have a special day at his parents later that afternoon.

***

Tripp parked hiscar outside of his parents’ house and turned off the engine, watching as Skye stared out the passenger window at their front yard and fidgeted restlessly in her seat. She’d spent the past half hour drive battling her nerves—smoothing a hand along the skirt of her dress, slowly inhaling and exhaling, and absently biting her lower lip.

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