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“But I do!” My voice came out harsher than intended, and she cringed. “Kaylie.” I sighed, squeezing her hand. “I’m fucking sorry. I didn’t sleep. My mood is all over the place.”
She nodded, giving me a small smile. “I’ll leave you alone.” She pulled her hand free and got to her feet.
She was halfway to the door when I choked out, “Don’t go.”
She turned around, and our eyes met. Everything around faded. The harsh words. The hurt. The guilt. It was only her and me, and I fucking needed her with me.
“Just stay with me,” I whispered, suddenly overwhelmed by that old fear of losing her. It burned deep within, building in pressure until my hand trembled as I closed it into a tight fist. The next time I spoke, my voice was just a rasp. A fucking plea. “Stay.”
She crossed the floor in a heartbeat. Standing in front of me, she lay a gentle hand on my shoulder, rubbing her thumb over my skin. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I looked at her, seeing the truth in her eyes. She was mine. But why did it feel like I was losing her? Why did it make me choke up as I looked into those ocean-blue eyes and saw nothing but love? Why was I fighting to breathe when she was right with me?
“Hey.” She must have caught the suffocating tension in me. Her hands came to my face, cupping my cheeks as she searched for clues. “It’s okay. I’m with you.”
I let out a ragged breath. She was. She would be. What I was feeling was nothing but old fear. Fucking wounds caused by loss I never got over. That was what it had to be. Kaylie was here. She. Was. Here.
“I can’t do this today,” I said, and she pulled me close, holding my head to her chest as she stood between my legs.
“Then don’t.”
I let out a scoff. The doctor’s appointment I anticipated with dread suddenly felt too real. I didn’t need to sit there and let some idiot give me false hope. I fucking knew my fate already. Izzy told me the truth long ago, and I accepted it, dumped it all on Kaylie. It was too late for hope.
“Let’s stay in,” she spoke into my hair, and I started to relax against her. “We can cook something together, watch a movie…”
I pulled away before I risked falling asleep. “Can we do that after taking a nap?”
She chuckled. “You do look like you need it.”
I did. Not even her huge mug of coffee was enough to keep my eyes from drooping. With a heavy sigh, I collapsed onto my back. Kaylie lay down next to me, snuggling close, head on my chest and arm draped over my stomach. I lazily played with her hair, making her smile tickle my skin.
*
I awoke to an empty bed, and that uneasy feeling spread like ice through my veins.
My head spun as I pushed to my feet, and the whole left side was jammed and stiff. I groaned, ignoring the whole fucking shit, and went to find her.
The sound of her voice led me to the kitchen. I stopped in the doorway, trying to wrap my mind around this. Kaylie, in my home. In my kitchen.In my life.How did I get to be so lucky?
Items were spread out on the dark marble counter of the island, and she was busy chopping potatoes into cubes while singing. I instantly relaxed. Leaning against the door frame, I watched her sway her hips in rhythm to the song. Her black hair danced across her shoulders as she moved, and her sexy little ass made my own body come to life.
I cleared my throat, needing her to stop before food would take the backseat to other more urgent needs.
Kaylie jumped, knife still in hand. “Oh my God, you scared me!” she exclaimed. Then she blushed, realizing I saw her little dance. “How long were you standing there?” she breathed.
A wicked grin came over my lips, and my voice dipped into a seductive growl. “Long enough.”
Her eyes skipped from my face to my cock straining against the sweats. She grinned. “I can see why the gray sweatpants are such a thing in romance novels.”
“Happy to feed your fantasies,” I muttered. “But first food, I’m fucking starving.” I strolled over to her, trying to ignore how her eyes kept drifting back down.
“Kay!” I snapped as it grew fucking unbearable. If she kept looking at me like that…
She blushed. “Sorry. You’re just too hot.”
I chuckled, grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her around. She giggled, reaching for a new potato. I stepped closer, biting back a groan as she wiggled her ass against me. “What are you making?”
“It’s a Swedish recipe, one of the maids back at my father’s taught me. Potatoes, onion, beef, or sausage also works, but you’re a steak guy so—” she cut herself off, letting out a sharp breath. “I’m rambling! Just—just sit down, before I cut my fingers off.”
