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Her chin jerked back like I’d slapped her. Then her mouth set in a stubborn line and she bent forward, her hands going for the first boot. She could still reach it, but I could tell it was awkward for her.
I brushed her hands away. “I’ll do it.”
I helped her out of both boots, then grabbed a cushion and put it against the couch arm. “Lean against that.”
I waited until she obeyed, then glanced over my shoulder at Rio. “Where’s that soup?”
“Right here.”
He tried to hand the cup to Eden, but I took it from him and sat on the edge of the couch, facing her. My hip touched her leg, and she stiffened like I was some kind of monster.
My jaw hardened. The woman was carrying a child. My child.
I’d cut off my own hand before hurting her or my spawn, which if she knew me at all, she’d understand.
And even if she hadn’t been pregnant, I wouldn’t have hurt her. Not really. Just…scared her a little.
I pressed the oversized cup into Eden’s palms. “Eat.” The word came out harsh from the anger pressing on my lungs.
Her gaze flew to mine, her emotions a snarled tangle. Fear, distrust, worry.
“Thank you,” she said, the phrase clearly pulled unwillingly from her mouth.
Adrian was texting, his thumbs flying over the screen, and Nathan stood to one side of the apartment door.
“Nathan,” I said, “stick with the kid. Adrian, you guard the door.”
Nathan immediately took a stance near Rio, who was back in the kitchenette. At the same time Aidan moved to the door, blocking anyone from entering or leaving, his attention on his phone.
Eden’s stomach rumbled. Clearly, the woman wasn’t taking good enough care of herself. That changed as of now.
“Eat,” I repeated, more calmly this time.
She blew on the hot liquid, then a small sip. “Thanks, Rio.” She slanted the kid a smile. “This is really good. Better than last time, even.”
He moved a shoulder, pleased. “Extra ginger.”
“Keep eating,” I told her. “I want you to finish that.”
She looked past me at Rio. “Can I have a spoon?”
When he brought it to over, I took it, telling Eden, “I’ll feed you.”
“I can do it.” She reached for the spoon.
I leveled her a look. “I said, I’ll feed you.”
Eden was carrying my spawn. Some primitive instinct had kicked in. I needed to take care of her. It was either that or punch a hole in the fucking living room wall.
“Fine,” she said in a toneless voice that was somehow worse than if she’d kept fighting me.
But she allowed me to feed her. At least the soup seemed nutritious—leafy greens and chunks of tofu floating in what my nose told me was a coconut-milk-and-ginger base.
She swallowed every drop, and Rio refilled the cup. When she’d finished that, too, she swung her feet to the floor. “I’m better now.”
“Easy, there.” I put a hand on her thigh, preventing her from standing. “She should eat more,” I told Rio. “What else do you have?”
He looked at Eden. “Apples and peanut butter?”
