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But as Carter continues to loom over me, his body slick with sweat and his heart hammering beneath my palm, I begin to realize something I should’ve known all along.
I can’t escape Carter, not anymore. No matter what happens, he is a part of me, and I can’t get him out. Nor do I want him to, not if it means having to let go for good.
With a deep exhale, Carter presses a kiss to my forehead and eases out of me. He collapses onto the mattress and drapes an arm over my shoulders. When he tucks me into his side, I nuzzle into his neck and throw one leg over him. After a brief pause, Carter presses his lips to my forehead, letting out another harsh breath.
I can barely hear over the pounding of my heart. All I want to do is prop myself up on my elbow, trace his features, and commit them to memory. But I’m still afraid of what I’m going to see when I look at his face.
A lump rises in the back of my throat as Carter squeezes my shoulder and then sits up, his eyes darting around. He stands up, and I admire the smooth and taut muscles of his back as he returns with two blankets from the closet. His brows are furrowed together as he unfolds one and throws it over me. Then he unfolds the other one and climbs back into bed with me.
Nestled in a cocoon of warmth, it feels like nothing else can get to us. Or stop us.
I trace the hairs on his chest and ignore the warning voice in the back of my head. “What made you decide to come back?”
Carter strokes my hair and then moves down the length of my back. “I had another meeting with the Natoris and Philipses. It didn’t go well.”
My stomach twists. “Why not?”
“They’ve got another backer, and I’m sure the mayor knows who it is, so I had to pay him a visit,” Carter replies after a lengthy pause. “When I was done, I knew there was nowhere else I’d rather go. You’re my home, dove, and not being able to come back to you… I don’t fucking like it.”
“I don’t like it either,” I whisper, my eyes welling with tears.
Carter places two fingers under my chin and tilts my head up so I’m looking at him directly. “I didn’t kill the mayor. I’ve been trying not to beat the shit out of people unless I have to, and it’s hard.”
I stare at him.
“But I’m trying,” Carter continues, his expression darkening. “And I’m going to keep trying because you and the baby deserve better.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Isabella
I stir awake and pry one eye open. Carter’s face swims in and out of focus, so I frown and stretch my arms up over my head. When I’m done, I use both hands to rub my eyes and realize two things at once.
The first is that there’s a tray of food on the nightstand next to me.
And the second is that Carter is at eye level with my stomach, a peculiar expression on his face.
Slowly, I blink, but when the image doesn’t change, I run a hand through Carter’s hair. He looks up at me and gives me a slow smile, the kind that makes me grateful I’m flat on my back and not on my feet. Then he takes my hand in his and gives it a firm squeeze.
I have no idea what time it is, and I don’t remember getting into my clothes, but I do know one thing. Every single part of my body is sore, and I can smell Carter’s musky scent on my skin.
With a smile, I glance down at my body and back up at the ceiling, a sigh passing through my lips. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of movement and turn to it, realizing that Carter left one part of the window open, allowing the curtain to flap with the wind. The whole room is bathed in a warm, buttery glow, and for the first time since claiming this room as my own, it doesn’t feel like a waiting room anymore, a state of in-between.
Instead, it feels like a space full of possibility and hope. Like Carter and I are.
He presses a kiss to my stomach and props himself up on his elbows. “You were asleep for a while.”
I stifle another yawn. “You wore me out.”
Carter gives me a wicked smile. “I don’t remember you complaining, dove. Not the first time or the second, and definitely not the fourth time.”
I blush and wave his comment away. “We’re not counting how many times.”
Carter nuzzles my neck, his hot breath dancing across my skin. “Why not?”
“Because I… because we…” I struggle to form a sentence as Carter drapes one arm over my stomach and uses the other to twist my nipples. “I can’t think when you do that.”
“Who said you’re meant to be thinking, dove?” Carter leans back and gives me another suggestive look. His eyes trail over my body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. Then his hands move to my sweatpants, wasting no time in pulling them down. When he throws them over his shoulders, he reaches for my shirt next, giving it a dismissive look as it flies over his shoulder with a flutter.
