Текст книги "Castle-Hill"
Автор книги: Samantha Young
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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 5 страниц)
“Cold wind. Sleet. The ugly doorman at Club 39. Porridge.”
I burst out laughing. “You mean anything that won’t give you an erection?”
He smiled at me, his eyes roaming my face lovingly. “Maybe we should just stop talking altogether. And put a bag over your head. And cover your legs.”
“Just don’t look at me.”
“I can still smell you.”
“I could move.”
“Dare move away from me and I’ll put you over my knee, Wife.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
Braden cut me a dirty look and I covered my mouth with my hand so he couldn’t see my grin.
We were silent for a few minutes and then I leaned my elbow on the bar, resting my chin on my palm as I told him softly. “I’m loving our honeymoon so far.”
He took my other hand in his. “I am too.”
I shifted closer to him, resting my knee against his. “Do you want to wait in the first-class lounge? I’m sure it’s filled with stuffy businessmen types who will certainly shatter the very sexual mood we’ve got going on here with all their stiff-upper-lippishness.”
Braden’s mouth twitched. “Stiff-upper-lippishness?”
“Stiff-upper-lippishness.”
He nodded, laughing softly now as he got up out of the stool and helped me down from mine.
Wrapping an arm around my waist, he said as he walked us toward the lounge, “Maybe we should stop using the word ‘stiff’ since apparently being married to you means losing control over my body and any self-respect I might have.”
“Grounds for divorce?” I teased as we showed our boarding passes to an airline attendant at the lounge doors.
“Grounds for a marathon fucking,” he answered dryly, not caring that the airline attendant had turned purple at his reply. “You won’t be able to walk for a while when I’m done with you,” he continued, gently guiding me into the lounge, leaving the gasping attendant behind.
I determinedly tried not to show my embarrassment, as I was used to him sometimes saying hot, blush-inducing shit like that to me in public. The key was to not let him know he’d flustered me.
“I’m happy with that as long as we’re talking multiple orgasms.”
Three suits turned their heads toward me from the small bar in the lounge, their eyebrows raised.
Braden and I stopped and I felt his hand squeeze my hip. “We’re going to get thrown out of the first-class lounge.”
I smirked. “You started it.”
“Actually, you started it.”
I heaved a sigh and glanced at my watch. “Well, unfortunately we’ve got about ten hours before we can finish it.”
Not looking too happy about that, Braden’s eyes swept the room, a glint entering them when they stalled on the restroom door.
“No,” I said immediately.
He threw me that boyish grin that was very, very difficult to resist.
Shit, fuckity, shit, fuck.
“Braden, no,” I hissed. “There’s no way we can do that discreetly.”
“So?”
“Braden—”
He let go of my hand. “Follow me in after a minute.”
I grabbed his hand back. “No, we’re acting like teenagers.”
His grin widened as he leaned his head toward mine. “We’re on our fucking honeymoon, babe, that’s the whole point.” He glanced back at the restroom and squeezed my hand. “I’ll go and then you follow me after a minute. Pretend I’m ill or something and you’re just checking up on me.”
Before I could refuse again, Braden strolled away from me, disappearing into the restroom.
I looked around the lounge. There were only four men in it and one woman and not one of them was watching me. Still …
“I’ve never been in first class,” I muttered, “and I’m going to get thrown out before I even hit the plane.”
Frowning I waited what felt like a millennium but was only a few seconds and wandered over to the restroom door. Feeling like a total idiot I knocked on it and asked, “Baby, you feeling okay?”
When no answer came, I slipped inside like I was a concerned spouse and nothing more.
We so couldn’t be fooling anyone with that crap.
Once inside I discovered there were separate doors for men and women.
I knocked on the men’s, and my knuckles had barely left the door before it opened wide enough for Braden to haul me inside, slam it shut, lock it, and press my back against it.
I slid my arms around his shoulders as he pressed his hard body against mine. “We’re so getting kicked out of first class.”
His hand caressed my ass before coasting down my thigh and then back up under my dress. His talented fingers slipped beneath my panties and he whispered hoarsely, “Then let’s make it worth it.”
Chapter 5
The Honeymoon—Part 2
From the moment we stepped into our plantation-style villa in the luxury resort Braden had booked for our honeymoon in the Pacific, I didn’t want to go home.
A few minutes’ walk from the main resort, up a landscaped, lamp-lit path, sat our villa. A huge deck with a plunge pool and a cabana overlooked the ocean. Inside was a huge airy, beautiful living room with white furniture I was almost afraid to touch and a gorgeous bedroom with a four-poster bed draped in white voile and a walk-in-closet. The final touch of beauty was the marble bathroom, which must have been bigger than Olivia’s entire flat.
Braden and I had been there for three days. We’d spent our days lazing by our private pool, enjoying spectacular views that filled you with the kind of contentment I wished every day would bring. At night we’d choose from one of the three amazing restaurants, head off to one of the bars to have a few drinks, and then we’d head back to the villa where we made love for hours.
Best. Honeymoon. Ever.
For a change of scenery, we’d left the villa on the third day and grabbed a couple of sun loungers under a cabana on the beach. Every now and then a courteous member of staff would approach us and ask us if we wanted anything to eat or drink while we both lay there, reading on our e-readers and soaking up the sun.
Just an hour before Braden had finally managed to coax me into the sea. I hadn’t been too keen on entering the water, but it was so beautiful its tranquility and Braden’s persistence finally got to me and I decided to wade in.
Lulled by Braden’s patience, I was completely taken off guard when he dunked me.
You did not dunk Jocelyn Butler Carmichael and get away with it.
Thus commenced a water wrestling match that had children swimming out of the way to avoid us while their parents shot us dirty looks. Braden was cracking up. He would be. He was winning. It was only after he lifted me and cannonballed me into the water so hard that I almost lost my bikini top in front of the entire resort that he decided the game had hit its peak. I spluttered and coughed as he swam up to me and retied the strings of the bikini around my neck.
“Happy now?” I’d slapped water at him, throwing him a mock-dirty look.
He’d kissed my neck and wrapped his arms around my waist under the water. “Always.”
There really was no way to be crabby at an answer like that, so I’d let him off the hook, letting him lead me back to our loungers where we were currently drying out. Braden was lying on his stomach, his tall body too big for the lounger, but he seemed comfortable enough. I had turned onto my side, watching him doze in the afternoon sun. Everything about the moment was perfect. From the sound of the water lapping gently to shore, the cries of happy kids, the soft chatter of couples, the smell of suntan lotion and seawater, the tiny flutter of my husband’s lashes as he dreamed beside me …
I should be terrified.
It was a lot to lose.
That fear niggled at me and I determinedly pushed it back out.
“Why are you staring at me?” Braden asked quietly, eyes still closed against the sun.
“I’ve never seen you relax for this long. It’s nice.”
“It’s actually nice to be relaxing.”
Raising an eyebrow, I teased, “You’re telling me you’re not missing keeping busy?”
His eyes opened slowly, blinking in the sunlight. He shifted up onto his elbows. “I have uninterrupted access to my wife for the next two weeks. Believe me, I’m not missing a thing.”
A delicious shiver rippled through me and I leaned over so my mouth was almost touching his.
“Them be fighting words.” I brushed my lips against his. “I think someone is trying to get into my bikini bottoms.”
“What do you mean, ‘trying’?” Braden grunted as he cupped his hand around the nape of my neck so his next words were muffled against my lips. I got the gist of it, though. Some cocky comment about having unhindered access to what was beneath my bikini bottoms. I bit his lip gently in retaliation, which only made him groan into my mouth and deepen the kiss.
Like always the world disappeared and I found myself balancing precariously half on, half off my lounger, clinging to Braden’s biceps as he drugged me with kisses that still knocked me off-kilter.
The sound of a sharp, playful child’s scream broke us apart, and I smiled ruefully as Braden brushed my lower lip with his thumb. He glanced over in the direction of the scream and my gaze followed his. A young boy was chasing what appeared to be his little sister, his delighted laughter and her mock-screams annoying a young couple that lazed near the spot of their antics.
Braden looked back at me. “We can return to the villa, lie by the pool, if the kids are bothering you.”
Frowning, I shook my head. I didn’t mind the kids. Their excitement and joy only added to the overall atmosphere of the resort. “The villa seems a long way away right now and I honestly don’t mind the kids.”
My reply caused Braden to tilt his head and ask in obvious surprise, “Really?”
I snorted and lay back down. “Really.”
“Well, that’s a good sign.”
The smile in his voice for some reason caused my stomach to flip. And not in a good way.
“What’s a good sign?” I asked, not really sure if I wanted an answer or not.
“You. Not minding the kids.”
Yup, I definitely didn’t want the answer.
“If you don’t mind the noise of other people’s kids, then you’ll definitely not mind the noise our kids will make.”
He might as well have wrapped his hand around my throat. I tried to swallow past the constriction his words had caused and I knew I had to get up, walk away, do anything, so that I didn’t have a panic attack. So it wouldn’t be obvious he’d freaked me out I waited as long as I could before saying,
“You want a drink? I’m going to get a drink.”
I felt his eyes on me as I shoved on my flip-flops and sunglasses, hurriedly tying my sarong around my waist. Not once did I look at him but I knew from his quiet, “Sure, babe,” I hadn’t been successful in keeping my freak-out to myself.
The whole time the bartender was making up our drinks the guilt clawed at me. I’d left Braden back there wondering what the hell had happened and if I was shutting him out. That was something I’d promised never to do to him again, and I had to keep that promise. With that in mind I took the drinks back to him and settled back onto my lounger.
After a few minutes of quiet I said, “Let’s go lie on our deck at the villa.”
Glancing over at Braden I found him staring at me, his brow puckered in consternation. “Why?”
I held his gaze and answered pointedly, “Because I like the peace and quiet. I want that for a while yet.”
Braden drew in a deep breath and slowly sat up to face me. Resting his elbows on his knees he leaned in and asked, “But one day you’ll want the noise, right?”
My heart started to bang around in my chest at the thought but I nodded tremulously. “Yes. But I just want it to be us for a while.”
Something dark I didn’t quite understand flashed in his eyes but he kissed me, cupping my face in his hand, and he murmured against my lips, “All right.”
When he pulled back his eyes moved behind me and he frowned at something. Feeling like there was definitely something off about his acquiescence, I asked, “You okay?”
I got a reassuring nod and he pulled back, standing up to gather his things.
Turning, I did the same, shoving my flip-flops back on and bending down to find my e-reader, which I’d hidden under my lounger in the shade.
“Do you fucking mind?” Braden snapped.
My head jerked up at his tone and my eyes collided with my neighbor. He was an older man, perhaps in his late forties, early fifties, he wasn’t with anyone, and he was staring in mild amusement over my shoulder at my husband. His eyes flicked to my boobs and then back to Braden.
Great.
I didn’t need to look around to know that Braden’s sharp aggression had drawn all of our neighbors’ gazes.
“Your woman is very beautiful,” the stranger commented in a thick accent.
I tensed and quickly turned around to face Braden, giving him a shake of my head. “Leave it.”
He didn’t leave it.
He gently took hold of my wrist and pulled me behind him so he could lean into the stranger’s face. “My wife is very beautiful. But to you she’s invisible. Understood?”
The stranger nodded. “Understood.”
I understood too. I understood I was mortified.
Not wanting to cause more of a scene, I let Braden hold my hand as we walked up the beach but as soon as we were out of sight I tugged out of his hold.
“You’re pissed off.” He sighed.
“Yes, I’m pissed off. There was no need to speak to him that way. It was embarrassing. You were peeing all over me.”
I heard his snort of laughter but didn’t dare look at him because I was afraid I’d kill him.
“That arsehole was ogling you all fucking day and ignoring every warning look I gave him. I don’t appreciate another man staring at my wife like he’s imagining fucking her when he knows I’m standing right fucking there.”
“Is dropping the f-bomb three times really necessary?”
He sighed, heavily this time. “You’re still pissed off.”
Yes, I’m still pissed off. “I’m confused. You overreacted and you know you overreacted. I’m just thinking the overreaction had nothing to do with that idiot staring at my breasts.”
Instead of agreeing, instead of telling me he was bothered by the unspoken issue that was on our minds, Braden shook his head impatiently and began striding toward the villa without me.
***
Dinner was a quiet affair.
I’d spent the rest of the afternoon lying by the pool with my headphones on listening to Bastille while Braden took a walk around the resort. By the time he came back I was in the shower. When I got out of the shower to get ready for dinner, he got in. Afterward Braden attempted conversation with me. I grunted answers at him, not so much pissed at him anymore as pissed that he’d given me reason on our honeymoon to be pissed at him.
He’d scowled at me when I strode out of the walk-in wearing a figure-hugging blue dress. The fabric was a thin, stretchy jersey, so although it covered me, it pretty much left little to the imagination. It was a hot dress and I’d bought it for my hot husband.
At the time the thought hadn’t been to torture him, but I was pissed, so now it was about torturing him.
Our walk to dinner was quiet. The night before we’d dined at the Oceanview, a restaurant situated on the beach. Tonight I silently led us to the Great Room in the main house of the resort.
That silence reigned between us all through dinner.
The tension between us was thickening and I could tell Braden was losing patience with it. Or me, rather.
Deciding the best thing for us was to get a good night’s sleep and put the stupid argument behind us, I quietly suggested we leave out drinks tonight and just return to the room. I took his brusque nod as agreement.
Dinner over, we strolled back to the villa. I kicked off my heels to sink my feet into sand, only reluctantly trailing back onto the landscaped path to our villa, all the while secretly dreading a quiet night in with annoyed silence and no sex.
Inside the air-conditioned heaven, I threw my heels to the floor and padded on cool tiles toward the bedroom. I heard Braden’s footsteps behind me seconds before I found myself jerked back against his body.
I gasped at the sudden movement, my breath hitching as one hand coasted roughly up my stomach to cup my breast, while the other gripped lightly to my hair. Braden gently tugged my head back, exposing my neck. Those familiar shivers tingled through me as he kneaded my breast, and pressed hot, wet kisses down the side of my neck.
Just as abruptly as he’d pulled me to him, Braden pushed me forward until I hit the bed. My torso bowed over the end of it as he nudged my legs open with his feet. In the same motion he slipped his hands under the hem of my tight dress and shoved the fabric upward until it hit me midback, baring my ass to him.
By this point my breathing was as hot and heavy as his.
Cool air touched my skin as Braden tugged my panties down. I stepped out of them and kicked them aside, quickly widening my stance again and biting back a moan at the feel of Braden’s erection pressing against my ass.
His fingers dug into my hips as he tormented me with the promise of him.
“Braden,” I whispered, his name a plea.
He rubbed his cock between my legs, teasing me mercilessly. I rocked back and forth against him until it was too much.
“Please,” I whimpered.
I lost his heat, but it was quickly replaced with his strong fingers slipping between my legs and deep inside.
He groaned to find me already wet and just like that his fingers were gone, a zip sounded, and his cock slammed into me. I whimpered again, my chest pressed to the bed, my hands gripping the sheets as Braden held me tight by the hips and thrust roughly in and out of me.
The build started quickly and I found myself rearing back against his dick in desperation.
“Harder?” he growled.
“Harder,” I gasped.
He pumped harder into me and just as I was on the cusp of coming, Braden pulled out, flipped me over onto my back as if I weighed nothing, and took hold of the hem of my dress, pulling it up over my head. He tossed it aside, hurriedly removing his own shirt before gripping my thighs, spreading my legs, and jerking me toward him so only my back was pressed against the bed.
Our eyes locked and we both moaned as he slid back inside me.
As he fucked me toward oblivion we kept our eyes locked, the connection heightening our arousal, shooting us toward climax faster. His panting breaths and my gasp filled the night air until his cock drove deep, shattering the fragile tension inside of me.
“Jocelyn,” he groaned as my inner muscles squeezed him. He jerked hard against me, shuddering as I felt his release inside of me.
After a moment he wrapped his arms around me and I wrapped my limbs around him, allowing him to drag me farther up the mattress. As soon as I was fully on the bed, Braden collapsed over me, his mouth nuzzling my neck as I squeezed my thighs around his waist and stroked the damp skin of his muscular back.
He lifted his head to press a soft kiss to my mouth, asking as he pulled back, “Did I make my point?”
I raised an eyebrow. “That you’re still a freaking caveman? Yes.”
His chuckle made him shake against me in a way I loved and I was disappointed when he rolled off of me. That disappointment quickly faded when he pulled me into his side.
“I should clean up,” I murmured.
“In a bit.” He sighed. “I didn’t like the way that guy was looking at you. I made a point.”
“It was embarrassing … also … was it really just about the guy? Honestly?”
“Of course.” He kissed my hair. “And … maybe the bikini. Maybe you shouldn’t wear that one again.”
“I thought you liked that bikini.”
“I do like that bikini, but so does every man on this resort with a dick he knows how to use.”
“Hmm, okay.”
He snorted. “You know I hate to point this out since we’re speaking again, but you’ve acted worse when you’ve found women flirting with me.”
Dammit.
“Okay, true. But I thought we were trying to be grownups now that we’re married.”
“Is that what you were doing at the airport?” He chuckled again. “Being a grownup?”
He had a freaking answer for everything. “Fine,” I grumbled. “I’m sorry for being pissed. I guess I was a little edgy… .”
“Because I mentioned kids again?”
I tensed against him. “I just … I want to wait a few years, but I don’t want you to be upset about that. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
I quickly found myself on my back, my husband braced over me. “You’re not,” he promised.
“We’ll wait.”
In answer I kissed him.
Thinking back on it, I kissed him so I didn’t have to see the disappointment he was trying so hard to hide.
Chapter 6
The Homecoming
Something nudged me into consciousness, but I refused to open my eyes. Instead I kept my face buried in the warm, familiar skin of Braden’s neck.
It became clear that the thing that woke me was my husband. I could feel him trying to extricate himself from my hold as gently as possible.
I held on tighter.
Braden shook against me, his tone rumbling with laughter as he asked, “Am I not allowed out of bed this morning?”
“Nope,” I mumbled against his skin. “If you move, I’ll have to move. If I have to move it means facing the fact that we’re no longer in Hawaii. I don’t know if I’m ready to deal with that.”
He rolled me onto my back, laughing at the fact that I refused to open my eyes. “So is the plan to stay here forever?”
“Yes.”
“That might become a problem.”
I shook my head against the pillows. “I don’t foresee any problems. It’s a sound plan.”
“Well.” Braden sighed. “We will eventually start to smell. And needing the toilet might become a problem. And with your issues with flatulence—”
I punched him on the arm, opening my eyes so I didn’t miss. My husband fought me off, laughing as though he was the funniest man on earth.
“One year,” I growled at him. “All I’m asking for is one year without you bringing that up!”
“You getting adorably embarrassed when you fart in front of me?”
After throwing him a narrow-eyed glare, I rolled off the bed. “I am not adorable,” I snapped, stomping out of the bedroom.
“You’re fucking adorable!” he called to me as I made my way into the kitchen. I rolled my eyes.
Braden could be pretty adorable, too, but he’d like it even less than me if I told him that.
I reached for the kettle, about to call through and ask if he wanted coffee when a wave of nausea caught me completely off guard and I found myself swaying against the counter.
“Babe, you okay?” Braden rushed to my side, grasping my hip in his hand.
Breathing through my nose, I fought to hold the sickness down. After a moment I rested my forehead on his chest. “I don’t feel so great.”
I felt his lips in my hair. “Jet lag. Sit down.” He ushered me toward the kitchen table and planted my ass at it. As he began to make the coffee the nausea rose again and I knew this time there was no fighting it. Without a word I shot up from the table and rushed out of the kitchen to the bathroom.
The toilet lid was barely up when I heaved everything inside me into it.
“Jocelyn?” I could feel Braden behind me.
I waved him off. “I’ll be okay.”
Sensing I wanted privacy, he left.
After waiting a few moments to make sure the nausea was dealt with, I got up on shaky legs and washed and brushed my teeth. Seeing my pale face in the mirror, I glowered at it.
Home sweet freaking home.
“Better?” Braden asked as I entered the kitchen.
“Yeah,” I smiled, gratefully accepting the coffee. “Much.”
***
Sitting in the waiting room, listening to people cough and sniffle, I felt breakable for the first time in a long time. My chest was heavy, like the air all around me was much too thin, and my thoughts were too harried, making me feel like a crazy person.
I just needed to know one way or the other.
If I knew …
I just needed to know.
“Jocelyn Carmichael, Room Five, Dr. Orr.”
Here we go… .
***
Braden was sprawled in the armchair, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his tie askew, and he was staring at the television as if he was only half-interested in what was going on.
He’d had a long day at work.
I’d just had a long day.
And now I was terrified. Terrified of answers. Terrified of fucking up. Of losing … everything.
We’d been home from Hawaii for almost four weeks and I’d been hiding my sickness from
Braden ever since that first morning. After a visit to the doctor’s that day I was almost sure of the diagnosis, but I wouldn’t know until they called to confirm the results.
“Jocelyn?”
I turned my head to look at my husband.
He was frowning at me in concern. “What’s wrong, babe?”
“Nothing,” I whispered, my heart beating hard against my ribs.
“It’s not nothing. You’ve been quiet. Tense.”
I shrugged. “I’m just on tenterhooks waiting to see if that lit agent in New York wants to sign me.”
After months and months of rejection letters I’d gotten an e-mail back from a lit agent from one of the top agencies in New York asking me for the first three chapters of my manuscript. When she e-mailed back asking to see the rest, I couldn’t believe it. I’d been trying not to get my hopes up, and my secret worry was helping keep my mind off it.
“You sure that’s all it is?”
I felt sick lying to him. So I didn’t. Instead I got up slowly and sauntered over to him, climbing onto the chair with him so I was straddling his lap. “I wish we were back in Hawaii,” I whispered against his mouth as he ran his hands down my back. “I wish, I wish, I wish …”
“Joc—”
I cut him off with a hard, desperate kiss, and that night I made love to my husband as if I knew what was coming next could change everything.
***
Ellie and Adam had fallen in love with a property on Scotland Street, and in a bid to distract me, I let Ellie set up another viewing so that the girls and I could check it out. Jo, Liv, and I followed Ellie and her estate agent around the Georgian-period flat, and for a while Ellie’s exuberance and exciting plans for the flat took me away from my problem. For a moment I even forgot I had a problem, so it was a bit like being jolted back into reality when my phone rang as we were leaving the property.
My stomach churned.
I gave the girls an apologetic smile and wandered off to the side to answer.
“Mrs. Carmichael, this is Dr. Orr. We have the results of your pregnancy test. I’d like to be the first to say congratulations, you are pregnant.”
The world skewed to the left.
“Mrs. Carmichael?” Dr. Orr asked softly. And then his tone became more careful. “I’ll give you time to process the news. Please do call as soon as possible to arrange your prenatal care. We’ll set you up with your first appointment with a midwife.”
“Thanks,” I somehow managed to mutter, every nerve trembling like I’d just run the New York City Marathon. I hung up and slipped my phone back into my purse.
I could hear someone trying to speak to me.
I’m going to be a mom.
Someone was questioning me.
I’m going to have a child.
“Joss, what is it?” Ellie’s frantic voice finally broke through.
I looked up at her, her pretty face a little fuzzy in my distress. “I have to go.”
“Go where?”
“I just—” The world skewed to the right. “I have to go.”
“Seriously, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
She was scared? She was scared! “Ellie,” I snapped, feeling an invisible hand wrap around my throat and constrict my breathing. “Just …” I stopped cold at the unadulterated concern in her eyes.
“I need to be alone for a little while.”
I waited for her nod and as soon as I got it, as soon as I knew she understood I wasn’t shutting her out—
I just needed space—I turned on my heel and started walking, almost running, toward the castle.
Somehow a thirty-minute walk was over in a flash. I was buying my ticket into the castle, I was hoofing up Lang stairs, and striding up onto the elevated section of Edinburgh castle where St.
Margaret’s Chapel was situated. And right outside the chapel was my place.
My place with the canon, Mons Meg, and the best view of Edinburgh.
I leaned against the cannon for a moment, ignoring the tourists who were trying to get a photograph of it. Feeling its cool cast iron under my hand, I drew in a deep breath.
I was going to be a mom.
Limbs still quivering like a mess of jelly, I walked over to the parapet, leaned my elbows on the wall, and gazed out over my home.
Here was where I found my calm. For whatever reason, this place on Castle Hill allowed me to sort out my feelings, to process them, to deal with them. It was my special place. And I hadn’t needed it in a while.
But now that I was going to be a mom … now, on top of having Braden and Ellie and all of my family and friends to lose, I had something miraculous to lose. My child.
The tears burned in my throat, the fear becoming something raw inside of me.
“Jocelyn?”
I whirled around at the sound of Braden’s voice, knowing that everything I was feeling had to be written all over my face.
Ellie must have called him and he’d guessed exactly where I’d go.
Braden’s features grew alarmed at the sight of me and he hurried toward me, gripping my arms in his hands. “Sweetheart, what happened?”
“I’m pregnant,” I blurted out, the tears spilling down my cheeks.
Braden jerked back like I’d hit him. He stared at me a long time, as if trying to figure me out. Just like that he looked like he’d been punched in the gut. “So you came here?” he whispered
incredulously.
I didn’t know what that meant, but I realized quickly it didn’t mean anything good.
“Braden—”
“Don’t.” He cut me off, turning from me. “Not here.”
There was an uneasiness, a new fear, in leaving my place before I’d gotten a chance to work through everything in my head. I’d just wanted that chance before Braden and I …
We walked in tense silence back down the hill and out of the castle. Braden had a taxi waiting for us on the esplanade. I was so out of it I didn’t even realize Braden hadn’t touched me. He opened the door for me but he didn’t put his hand on my arm to help me in. He didn’t scoot near me once we were inside. I’d realize this all later, when my brain wasn’t a tumult of thoughts and my stomach and chest weren’t awash with too many feelings.
Not a word was spoken between us, not until the door to our flat was closed behind us and we stood facing each other in the kitchen.
Braden’s features were hard in a way I didn’t like. “You’re pregnant with my child and that’s such fucking awful news you go to the castle?”
I couldn’t believe he thought … That wasn’t it at all!
“Braden—”
“Are you happy or are you unhappy?” he snapped, his glittering with desperation.
My heart was pounding so hard in my chest, I thought I might vomit. “Braden.” My lips trembled, my nose stinging. “It’s not that simple.”
