Falling for Sarah (31 page)

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Authors: Cate Beauman

BOOK: Falling for Sarah
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He grabbed the box, opened the side flap that no longer held a seal. He pulled the plastic indicator free and stared at two bright blue lines. The illustration on the packaging showed one line for ‘not pregnant’ and two lines for... He glanced back at the stick again, heart thundering. “Oh, my God.”

Everything made sense now. Sarah wasn’t ill because of her workload and stress; she was ill because she had morning sickness. She was pregnant. Why hadn’t he figured it out sooner? He remembered how she had been with Kylee.

He sat down on the toilet lid, unable to take his eyes from the piece of plastic that told him he was going to be a father. How long had she known?

He got to his feet, unable to be still as anger and fear surged through his veins. He paced away and back again. How long did she plan to keep him in the dark? This was his child too.

Rubbing his fingers over his forehead, he stopped. Could he really blame her for not jumping into his arms with the news? He had more or less vanished from her life—no calls, no e-mails, nothing. Yeah, he’d taken the time
he
needed to sort everything out but at what cost?
Damn, Cooke,
you’re on a fucking roll
.

Ethan sat on the toilet lid again, head in hands. There was no use being angry with Sarah when he could only be angry with himself. Why couldn’t he get this right? He thought of Kylee, of the magic and wonder she had brought to his life, and the beginnings of happiness overshadowed his misery. A smile ghosted his mouth. He and Sarah were going to have a baby.

He shoved the box among the towels and walked to the bed, staring down at the woman who had been his friend, his lover, and now carried his child. His mind flashed back to the night they shared in the bed she slept in now. He remembered blue eyes captivating him as he moved with her, inside of her, moments after he’d told her he loved her. His fist clenched when he thought of the tense car ride to the doctor’s office, of her devastated eyes blinking back tears as she told him to leave it alone. Had she known then?

Ethan’s gaze wandered down her blanket-clad body, stopping at her lower stomach, where his baby grew and slept. Everything he ever wanted lay quiet and resting in his bed, and they were no longer his to have. Love swamped him as despair drained him. He wanted it all back, needed it all back.

He walked to the glass doors and stared out into the night. What was he going to do?

He sure as hell wasn’t going to lose it all. He wasn’t going down without a fight.

Ethan glanced at Sarah once more before he turned away and left the room, determined to get it all back.

Zeke sat at his desk, staring at his ‘Wall of Sarah’. Every picture he’d been able to find on Google Images had been printed and framed with cornflower blue matting, the same color as his roses; the same color as her eyes. He’d spent hours cropping the asshole movie stars she usually posed with out of the photographs, but it had been worth the time. When he woke each morning or needed to get himself off, all he had to do was look over and Sarah smiled at him, just for him. Her serene beauty would be even more stunning in death.

He closed his eyes, grinning, shuddering, as he worked himself hard, imagining what it would be like to ram his cock inside of her while she stared up at him in terror—but he would wait to cum until she struggled for her last breath, until her gaze grew dull and lifeless. He hissed out a breath as his imagination sent him over. He had to have his angel soon, his sweet, sweet angel, or he might go mad.

It’d been
weeks
since he’d been able to get close to her. Other than photographing the sluts by the ocean in their whore clothes, she never left Master Cooke’s fortress. He couldn’t even get close to her at the beach. Fuck knows he’d tried, but the muscle-jacked assholes she surrounded herself with
never
left her alone.

The long-range lens he watched her with wasn’t good enough. He needed to touch her, smell her, fuck her,
punish
her for making him wait for so long. Just two more weeks and they would meet face-to-face, and oh, it was going to be sweet.

He was ready for her now. None of the others would do. With his plan in place, he smiled, sitting in his juices, eager to start his fantasy again, never taking his eyes from Sarah’s.

Chapter 22

S
ARAH SHOT OUT OF BED in her race for the toilet. Thankful she hadn’t closed the lid an hour before, she leaned forward and retched, just making it. Yesterday’s reprieve from nausea was clearly going to be short lived.

Depleted and shaky, she lay on the floor, pressing her cheek to the cool marble tile. Someone walked through the bedroom and stopped in the doorway. She didn’t have the energy to turn to see who it was. At this point, she didn’t care.

The faucet was turned on and a paper cup filled. Ethan, sweaty in his gym shorts, knelt down beside her. “Here, sip this.”

“I can’t. I’ll just throw it back up.” She closed her eyes.

“You have to drink or you’re going to get dehydrated.”

She struggled to sit up. Ethan cupped her by the armpits and helped.

Dizzy, Sarah’s stomach pitched and she leaned forward, vomiting again. Sighing, she rested her elbow against the seat, settled her forehead in the crook of her arm.

Water rushed into the sink. Moments later a cool cloth lay around the back of her neck. Ethan’s hand moved up and down her back as he sat next to her on the floor. She couldn’t count the number of times he had done the same thing when she’d been pregnant with Kylee.

“I’ll be fine in a few minutes. You don’t have to stay.”

His callused hand continued to move over her cotton tank top, making contact with the skin of her shoulder blades with each up stroke. His gentleness weakened her and she longed for something that would never be.

“Really, Ethan, I’m pretty steady again.” Sitting up fully, needing to break the contact between them, she gave him a small smile.

He held the paper cup to her lips and she took a long sip, swished the water around in her mouth, spat it into the toilet. He held the cup to her mouth again and she relieved her dry throat.

“Thanks. The worst has definitely passed.”

Concerned eyes scrutinized her face. “Are you sure?”

Unable to resist, she placed her hand over his and nodded. “Yeah.”

He continued to hold her gaze. “When were you going to tell me, Sarah?”

Her hand tightened on his before she pulled away. “I-I don’t know…” She tried again. “What are you…” She stopped any pretense of denial and stared at the floor. There wasn’t any point.

“How far along?”

“Almost ten weeks. It must’ve happened the first time we were together.”

He shoved a hand through his hair, blowing out a deep breath. “Damn, Sarah, ten weeks. That’s my child you’re carrying.”

“I just found out a couple of days ago myself. Everything’s been so hectic. I lost track of time.”

“What did the doctor say? Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

Her eyes filled. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. They were having a baby and there was so little joy. “We’re both fine. I heard the heartbeat. It sounded perfect.”

He looked into her eyes. “What are we going to do?”

Wasn’t that the ultimate question? What
were
they going to do? Everything was so different now, so messed up. They weren’t a couple in love sharing a family, and there was no easy friendship to depend on. A myriad of emotions flooded her—confusion, regret and fear mixed together, but it was the deep, unbearable sadness that almost broke her. A tear raced down her cheek and she stood, turning away. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll hope they catch this guy soon so Kylee and I can go home. It’s time to—”

“What do you mean you’ll go home?” Ethan rushed to his feet, turning her to him. “We’re having a baby.”

Tears fell, unstoppable. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I want you and Kylee to stay here with me. I want us to raise the kids together, to be a family.”

She yanked away. “What are you talking about? We can’t raise a family on affection, Ethan. We would only be cheating ourselves. You deserve more than that. I deserve more than that.”

He stepped closer. “Affection? I love you.”

Sarah closed her eyes, breathing out a trembling breath, wishing it were true.

He pulled her against him, her cotton shirt colliding against his bare chest. “I
love
you, Sarah.”

She opened her eyes, staring into gray pools teeming with desperation and panic. “I believe you think you do, but what happens when you go away again? You left me for a month and never called. You spoke with Hunter or Austin every day, but you didn’t once speak to me. You met Nicolette in Berlin.”

His fingers tightened against her arms. “I didn’t
meet
Nicky in Berlin. I
saw
her at a function. We said hello and that was the end of it. I tried to tell you the other night. And I didn’t talk to you because I needed time to think. I was so caught up in you, I couldn’t think.”

She wanted to believe his words, to believe in him, but she couldn’t. It hurt too much. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. Ever since things changed between us, you’ve teetered back and forth. You hold yourself back. I want it all, Ethan.”

“You can have it.”

She shook her head vehemently, denying herself what she wanted to take. “No. What happens if in a month from now or six months from now you decide you don’t want me, or this, or us? I can’t live like this. I don’t want to live like this. So no, Kylee and I won’t be staying here with you. When all of this is over, we’re going home. I need to put my life back together. I have two children who’ll be depending on me.”

With a sob, she left the room, running on rubbery legs to the downstairs balcony. She wanted the wind on her face, the sound of the sea. As she opened the kitchen door and stepped on smooth wood, Ethan caught her and spun her around.

“This isn’t over, Sarah.”

“As far as I’m concerned, it is.”

He took her chin in his hands. “Do you love me?”

She stared into eyes burning with hurt, but she wouldn’t answer. She needed something for herself.

His fingers moved through her hair, pulling her face closer, his gaze never leaving hers. “Do you love me, Sarah?”

Weeping, she could only speak the truth. “Yes, I love you.”

“That’s all I need to know.” He pressed his mouth to hers and she struggled, fighting the need that left her reeling. She bunched her fists against his chest as he held her in place, as she caved to his familiar taste, losing the battle.

His lips moved over hers, persuading, and she stilled, moaning, surrendering. Ethan’s tongue sought hers as his fingers curled in her hair. She unclenched her hands, skimming her palms against the warm skin of his stomach, settling them against the sides of his waist.

He nibbled her lip, traced the spot with his tongue before diving in again, before easing away. He skimmed his knuckle against her cheek as he stared into her eyes. “I want you, Sarah. I want Kylee, and I want this baby. I don’t care what I have to do to prove that to you. I’ll give you time to think about that, but I won’t wait long.”

He walked away, turned, met her gaze again before he continued through the kitchen.

Heart pounding, stomach fluttering, Sarah sat down on a padded wicker seat and stared out at the ocean waves, not knowing what to do.

After a shower, Ethan dressed and settled down at his desk, eager to find out what Detective Campbell had on the case. He dialed Tuckers’s home number and waited.

“Hello?”

“Tucker, it’s Ethan Cooke.”

“Hey, Ethan.”

“I got your e-mail last night. What did you find out?”

“Like I said, it isn’t much, but we have to start somewhere. He’s made his first mistake. The cardstock he’s been using is manufactured from rice paper made right here in the city, at a shop in China Town.”

“That’s great.”

“It’s a beginning. The shop is fairly small, but the family who owns and runs it does a serious business. They distribute the paper to several stationary and florist stores throughout L.A. We’re talking two or three hundred vendors.”

Ethan’s jaw clenched in frustration. “Well, shit, anyone could’ve bought it then.”

“Not necessarily. The paper isn’t sold mass market. It’s used by the businesses themselves for bookmaking, card making, etcetera. We have their client lists, so we’re going to attack that. We’ll start with the floral side of things.”

Ethan rubbed his fingers over his forehead. “Makes sense.”

“There are about one hundred-fifty, one hundred-seventy-five shops.”

“If you slip me the files, I can start crosschecking orders as well—try to find some sort of pattern.”

“I’ll download the data and send it your way tonight, from home.”

“That works. I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“Sounds good.”

“Tucker, we’re going to get this fucker.”

“Damn right. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Ethan hung up and swiveled around, staring out at the deep green of his lawn.

They had a lead. Tucker was right: it was small, but all it took was one domino to send the rest tumbling. He was looking forward to watching them fall.

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