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He shakes his head, looking as disappointed as I feel. “The guys will be over early.”
I nod understandingly. There’s a heated silence between us as we sit there, lost in each other’s gaze. It’s as though he’s making love to my thoughts right here in this booth. The ache in my core is going to erupt if he doesn’t touch me soon. He licks his lips before his hand slides up my inner thigh under my dress. An involuntary moan slips from my mouth when his hand reaches my sex. His gaze hasn’t left mine. I feel his fingers slide under my panties. He strokes softly, and I’m biting my lip to keep from screaming. His lips turn up in a devilish grin before he leans over and nibbles on my ear.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he pants, slipping one finger inside me.
My hips jerk. “Oh, God!” I scream. My eyes go wide as Brady laughs. The entire restaurant has to have heard me. I don’t look up to find out. Instead, I bury my head in Brady’s neck.
He removes his hand from under my skirt. “Should we go home?” The question leaves his lips in a raspy whisper.
I can’t get up from the table fast enough. I literally push him from the booth, keeping my head low and avoiding eye contact with anyone until we’re outside. Brady whirls around to face me. I launch at him. He catches me and carries me to the car while I kiss up and down his neck. “My greedy girl is back.”
I remind Brady to slow down several times on the way back home. The local policia aren’t fond of Americans using the highway like they’re on the Autobahn. You can usually pay them off, but it’s not cheap. As we approach the bend down the street from our home, the tires squeal.
“Someone’s anxious,” I tease, running my palm up the inside of his thigh.
He groans. “I haven’t been inside you for forty-seven days, fourteen hours…” his eyes drift to the clock on the dash, “…twenty-six minutes, and fuck the seconds. It’s been too damn long, Sunshine!”
“Almost there, baby, and Liv and Harrison won’t be home tonight.” I lift suggestive eyebrows.
“Perfect.” He winks. The sun glistens off his beautiful eyes as he turns into the driveway. “I’ve always wanted to have you in the foyer.”
As we step out of the car and walk toward the house, my eyes land on a dark-haired woman and a child sitting on the stairs. I glance over, noticing the strange car parked on the street in front of the house. Brady tenses next to me, his grip on my hand firm. “Tori, go in through the studio. I’ll be there in a minute.”
The woman and child stand, looking over at us.
“Oh, no, you don’t, Brady Hunter! No more secrets between us, remember? Who is she?”
“Someone I used to…to…know.”
His hesitation tells me she is someone he used to sleep with. The air is sucked from my lungs as it dawns on me. She’s here with a kid. Oh, no. Please, no!
Brady keeps a solid grip on my hand as we approach. I look up at Brady. His jaw is twitching erratically. His palm sweats in my hand.
“What are you doing here, Annabelle?” His voice is cold, dismissive.
“You wouldn’t answer my calls or my texts. I need to speak with you.”
This is who has been calling him constantly. She is the “no one important.” I don’t have time to analyze it further, because I catch sight of the little boy at her side. The green pools that beam up at Brady are unmistakable.
He’s Brady’s son.
Why? What misdeeds did Brady and I commit in a past life to be so brutally punished in this one? We had to have run with the Huns, pillaging small villages or broke legs for the mob.
“Can we talk in private?” Annabelle looks at Brady pleadingly.
“No! Whatever you need to tell me can be said in front of my wife.”
“Fine!” she shouts, nudging the little boy forward. “Brady, this is Andrew…your son.”
I try desperately to loosen Brady’s grip on my hand, but he won’t budge. They do need to have this conversation in private. I don’t know what to do, but I know I can’t listen to this. “Hello, Andrew.” I smile down at the miniature version of Brady. “Why don’t we go in for a snack so your mom and Brady can talk? Do you like grapes?” He smiles big and nods. I shake my hand free from Brady’s grasp and hold it out for Andrew. He takes it, and we walk inside. I ignore the assault of nerves firing away in my gut and the grief threatening to force me to tears. I’ve lost our child, and Brady has another.
Brady
“What the fuck are you trying to pull, Annabelle?” I grip her arm and force her to look at me. “We had sex one time, and I used a condom.”
Her eyes roll as she rips her arm from my grasp. “It only takes once. Condoms aren’t a hundred percent.”
“You’re lying. There’s no way that kid’s mine.”
