Page 13 of Stolen Salvation

A memory of her running to the bathroom sick after he’d made her eggs and later finding out she was pregnant with Freddie flashed in his mind’s eye, making him pause as he looked in the fridge. Taking a second to pretend he was looking for something he got himself together and turned back to the hob with a blank look on his face, only to see her blinking as if she too was fighting tears.

Noah wanted to ignore it, to run from the pain that was crushing for them both, pain that had driven a wedge between them he hadn’t seen coming until it was too late.

Clearing his throat, he set about whisking the eggs as Charlie got herself together, giving her privacy to do so when all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and hold her and tell her he felt it too. That it would be okay and they’d get through this, but they hadn’t.

Placing the bacon under the grill, he let it begin to cook, and popped two slices of toast in the toaster while he gently stirred the eggs. Once it was all done, he plated up and added a generous splash of tabasco for Charlie. He personally liked his taste buds and had no intention of burning them off with that red poison.

Charlie tucked in and moaned, sending a shot of lust straight to his dick, so many images of her making that same sound while she had her lips around his dick making him groan and cough to hide the response.

“Still hate tabasco I see.”

Noah glanced at his plate still lost in lustful thoughts and struggled to catch up. “Oh, yeah. Horrible disgusting stuff.”

Charlie’s laugh was like a dose of sunshine, warm and sweet. She was as deadly as anyone on this team, fiercer in hand-to-hand combat than he would ever be, but she still retained her sweetness. Or at least she had until one day he’d woken up and that sweetness was shrouded with grey resentment.

They ate in silence then, some of the awkwardness gone as the sounds of someone else in his apartment gave him a feeling of comfort. He hated being alone, he’d spent most of his life losing people, first his parents to an accident when he was three months old and then his adoptive parents when he was nineteen. He should be used to it, but he hated any time he could allow his emotions to sweep into that free space and eat him up.

“That was delicious.”

Noah took her empty plate and moved to the sink to soak it in water.

“You must have been hungry.”

“Starving, I haven’t eaten in ….” She looked up to the ceiling as if thinking and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Still the same old Charlie, not looking after yourself.”

She waved him away as she’d always done. “I’m fine.”

“Of course you are. I bet you haven’t slept in days either.”

Her hand came up to the dark circles under her eyes and he clenched his back teeth to keep from lecturing her about it.

“You know I don’t sleep well.”

Noah moved closer, his hand lifting without thinking about it as he swept a thumb over the evidence of her lack of self-care. Charlie’s breath hitched in her chest, and she stilled as if too afraid to take a breath and break the spell. He didn’t know what he was doing or why, but he revelled in the feel of her soft skin beneath his fingers. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

“Why do you care?”

That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Why couldn’t he stop himself from wanting to protect her? Why couldn’t he hate her in a way that made it so much easier to keep her away? “I don’t know.”

His honesty had her lifting herself on her toes and bringing her lips close to his. He only had to lean in and he’d be able to lose himself in her as he’d done a hundred times. To feel the chemistry that was clearly still as strong as ever between them.

He stepped back, putting space between them as he ran his hand through his hair, turning his back on her. “We should talk about the visit to the clinic, get our stories straight.”

He heard her clear her throat and when she spoke there was no trace of the lust from just seconds ago.

“Yes, of course.”

Noah took a seat at the island and Charlie leaned against the back of the couch and they were back to awkward again. “What story are we going with?”

Charlie bit her bottom lip, her eyes to the ceiling buying time as she considered things. “How about we’re a working couple with decent jobs so they don’t question the fact we can afford multiple failed IVF attempts. Tell them we have no reason but unexplained infertility and two failed egg transfers.”

Bishop blinked wondering how she knew so much about this but didn’t voice his question. That might lead to a more intimate conversation, and he wasn’t up for that tonight. Not when he was barely hanging on by a thread as it was. “That will work. Watchdog can work up a background based on that.”

Charlie brushed her hand over the couch back again, a new nervous habit she’d not had before.

“Will you be okay doing this?”