Page 77 of Beautiful Killer

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Sunny

We drove into Zeke’s warehouse, but this time, everything was different.

This time I was pregnant with his child, and we were in some kind of “will they, won’t they” relationship. We weren’t in the 1950s. I didn’t expect Zeke to get down on one knee just because I was carrying his baby. I didn’t want that. I’d avoided relationships of every kind because I always ended up disappointed or hurt. Despite what he said, even attempting a romantic relationship with Zeke was setting myself up for failure—for heartache.

I’d kept that to myself, though. Zeke wasn’t going to listen to me, not when he was still obviously in shock, and emotions were high. So I’d give him this, I’d stay with him until the danger was over, then I’d sit him down and explain why anything more than friends now was a huge mistake. I was under no illusions. Zeke hadn’t had some epiphany and all of sudden fallen in love with me. I couldn’t afford to get my hopes up or believe in fairy tales. There was someone else I had to think about now, someone I had to put above my own wants and needs. Allowing myself to believe I could have more with Zeke was not only reckless, but delusional. I’d sat on his couch and heard him say he didn’t do permanent, that he didn’t want permanent, from his own lips. That a family was not on the cards for him. It never worked when couples stayed together for the kids. I refused to be a casualty of my own naïve stupidity. And I . . . I deserved to be loved.

So no, I wasn’t going to let myself even fantasize about what it would be like for us to be together like that.

He pulled to a stop in the garage side of the warehouse, and we climbed out. I followed him into his place, hanging back when he carried on up to his bedroom to put away my bags. I watched him come back down, tall, impossibly strong body held in a confident way, a way that said he knew how to use that body in all situations. Zeke may seem unsure at times, uncomfortable with his own emotions, but when it came to the physical, he had no such problems. He was one hundred percent sure of his ability to protect me.

And he was definitely confident in bed.

My nipples tightened and I drew in a steadying breath. Stop. I couldn’t think about that. That wasn’t happening, no matter how much I wanted him. And by God, did I want him. I was crazy for him before, but now with a bunch of pregnancy hormones stampeding through my body, I was running hot more often than not. But sex would just confuse an already messy situation.

“You hungry?” he said when he reached the kitchen.

I shook my head. “I had something to eat earlier.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I, ah . . . went food shopping before I picked you up. Got a heap of fruits and vegetables, that milk with the extra calcium.” He shrugged. “A woman in the store told me that’s the kinds of stuff pregnant women need.”

“You asked someone?” There was no hiding the surprise in my voice.

His eyes darted away then back. “I asked some lady with a couple kids . . . she said you should take these, too.” He grabbed something from the cupboard above the sink and handed it to me. Vitamins. I already had some, but I was running low. I’d planned on getting more next week. A lump grew in my throat and I forced it down and smiled at him. “These are perfect, thank you.”

His Adam’s apple slid up and down his throat. “Go sit down. I’m just gonna make a sandwich.” Then he turned back to the fridge and started pulling things out.

I walked to the fridge, grabbed the milk he’d gotten me, and poured myself a glass. I never really just drank glasses of milk on their own like that, but I felt moved to show him how much I appreciated the effort he’d gone to. I felt his eyes on me the whole time. I tried not to think about it, to ignore the way having him look at me affected me, and turned on the TV.

He joined me on the couch a short time later and we fell into a companionable silence. Well, it was companionable for the first fifteen minutes, then I found myself glancing at him, the way he sat, long legs out in front of him, feet crossed at the ankles. Plate resting on his solid thighs. The way he chewed was actually sexy. His jaw was strong and kind of jutted out a little at the hinges. I could see this despite his beard, which was a little longer than when I’d last seen him. I could also vividly remember the way that beard felt against my bare skin. He made a kind of grunting sound at something on the TV and it reminded me of the sounds he made when he was thrusting into me.

I shivered.

A full body shiver.

He glanced at me. “Cold?”

“No . . . I’m . . .” I didn’t get to finish my sentence because he was already up and moving across the floor, up to his bedroom. He was back a few minutes later with a blanket. He draped if over me, tucking it around my sides. He took me in, and obviously happy with the way he’d wrapped me up like a burrito, grunted again.

I shivered again.

His eyes slid back to me.

Crap.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly before he went and got more blankets.

Now, not only was I a horny mess, I was slowly roasting, while he sat beside me chewing sexily . . . and don’t get me started on the way he drank his beer. Sexy, muscular throat working as he swallowed . . .

“How’s the morning sickness been?” he said.

My eyes darted back to his and I squirmed. “It comes and goes. But nowhere near as bad as it was. The doctor thinks I’m around thirteen or fourteen weeks. It’s normal for it to lessen around then.”

His hand dropped to his thigh and his fingers curled then loosened. “That far along?”

“Yeah.”