Binding.
You are my woman. This is what it means to be a Shay.
Then it snaps.
Good God, that’s what tried to come out of his stupid, handsome face almost every time he was inside me, which means...he really was telling the truth? Was this why Isaiah acted so strangely at the bonfire that night, because he thought Connor had taken me and knocked me up? I groan to myself, rubbing my forehead. When it comes to men, I really know how to choose them.
“Therewego,babyboy,” I coo as I fold the newborn mittens over his hands. “Got those mean old fingernails covered up.” Ignoring the pang of hunger that rumbles in my stomach, I kiss Eli’s nose and place him in the center of the bed next to his sister.
They’re wide awake, freshly changed, and, ironically enough, wearing the onesies Connor bought for them months ago.Daddy’s Handsome ManandDaddy’s Little Princess.
It’s almost suppertime, and that’s a problem in more ways than one. They’re getting a little fussy, letting me know it’s almost time for them to eat, too. Anamaria’s bottles and milk are in the kitchen, though. Maybe, just maybe, I can get her to nurse from me, because I still don’t want to face Connor yet. He’s let me hide away for now, but that won’t last forever.
Sending up a silent prayer for this to work, I settle back against the headboard with the nursing pillow so they can eat. Eli latches on right away, but Ana, my poor little girl, turns her little face away and prepares to scream. “Please...” I whisper. “Please, just this once.”
A scratching sound comes from the door, and my eyes jerk up while hope and dread have my heart skipping a beat. It’s still locked from when I first escaped away to here, but I’m not so naïve as to think a measly lock—especially just one on the knob—would stop my husband.
Husband.
Fuck. He’s still my husband.
Doesn’t mean I have to speak to him.
With a pop, the handle turns, and Connor eases in, not even acknowledging that he had to break into his own room. He’s wearing different clothes now. A t-shirt that looks glued to his muscles and a pair of old jeans that have no business looking as good on him as they do. “I made you some food, baby.” Toto slips in and jumps on the bed to lay over my feet. “Brought a bottle, too.”
Good. I can hold it for Ana while Eli nurses. Begrudgingly, I reach for the bottle, but he captures my fingers around it. My lips purse in frustration as I halfheartedly yank back, but he doesn’t let me go. His gaze burns through me, lingering on my exposed breasts that I refuse to hide.
“All three of you need to eat, so you have a choice here. You can feed Ana her bottle if you want, but that means I’m going to feed you. Or we can do it the way we usually do. But you need to take care of yourself, too, little mama.”
Little mama.
The endearment he uses so freely hits me in the heart, and I spare a glance to the tray to escape the betraying emotions it calls up. Grilled cheese and a cup of tomato soup—comfort food that sounds more appealing to my hungry stomach than I’d like.
For a small moment, I consider what would happen if I let him feed me. His fingers would brush the crumbs from my mouth. Wipe away any soup splatters.
And then he’d kiss me senseless.
No. Not happening.
My fingers fall away in capitulation, and sadness flickers over his face before he situates a hangry Ana and the tray of food. What does he have to be sad about? It’s not as if he just found out he was, for all intents and purposes, kidnapped because of some weird family tradition.
Never mind that it was a more gentle kidnapping than in all the romance books I’ve read.
Angrily, I bite into my sandwich—because I can’t bring myself to waste any food, no matter how angry I am—and watch from the corner of my eye as he sits in the middle of the glider and hushes Ana’s cries with a bottle. “It’s okay, baby girl. Daddy’s gonna feed you. Did you have a good nap?”
I attempt to harden my heart against the tender moment, but I can’t deny that he’s been a true father to them. A devoted husband to me. Sighing, I wolf the rest of it down and sneak the last bite to Toto while I pat my mouth with the napkin carefully tucked under the plate.
Damn the man for being so thoughtful.
Holding my warm cup of soup away from Eli, I take a sip and want to cry at the rich flavor that bursts across my taste buds. Another damn strike against him for being such a good cook.
He lifts Ana to his shoulder and stares at me through heavy eyes as he pats her little back with his massive hand. And stares. And stares. Stretches his long legs out and stares some more, his gaze never leaving me as I burp Eli and switch him to the other breast.
Harsh words rise from the boiling pit of my stomach, but I swallow them back down and ignore the heat from his eyes. Normally, I’d think it childish to give someone the silent treatment, but this is an exceptional situation.
After the babies’ milky mouths are wiped clean, Connor brings Ana to me and settles her on the pillow in front of me. When he reaches for my son, though, my hand automatically pushes him away. These are my babies, and I want them all to myself.
He freezes, hand hovering over Eli. “I know you’re mad, Rosanna. But don’t use them as a pawn against me.” His words are so low I have to strain to hear them over the blood rushing in my ears. “I’ve woken up with you every single time they’ve needed to be fed. Been peed on during diaper changes.” My face tingles with embarrassment as I realize I have more in common with Eli than I would have thought. “Rocked them to sleep. I’ve been here for all three of you from the very beginning. None of that is going to change. I’m still your husband, and I’m still their daddy.”
