Authors: Katee Robert

Protecting Fate (13 page)

BOOK: Protecting Fate

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Chapter Nineteen

Sara propped her feet on her coffee table and dug her spoon into the ice cream she’d bought on the way home from the doctor. Everyone knew that pregnant women had some weird-ass cravings, but so far hers had been pretty mundane. She glanced at the ultrasound pictures that the tech had printed out for her. Tomorrow, she’d take a few pictures of them and send them to Z. She’d almost done it tonight, but she was exhausted and weirdly sore and didn’t have it in her for another go round of him demanding that she marry him despite all her arguments that it was a terrible idea.

Her throat burned, and she took a bite of ice cream to stave off another crying jag. The crazy mood swings hadn’t shown up until recently, but she already felt like she was PMSing on steroids. And the worst part was that all she wanted was Z, even though he was partially the cause.

It seemed like every time she closed her eyes, she was assaulted with how good it’d been to have his arms wrapped around her. He’d made her feel like she was the most important thing in the word and, more than that,
safe
. Sara couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt truly safe. Oh, she wasn’t ever in danger—the thing with Nord notwithstanding—but that peace only seemed to be within reach when she was with him.

Frankly, it made her resent the hell out of him.

Because he should be
here
, eating ice cream and watching
The Big Bang Theory
reruns and talking about their day. With her. And it was becoming increasingly clear that it was as much her fault as his that he wasn’t. If neither one of them gave an inch, this would never work. The problem was, he kept demanding all or nothing, and she refused to marry him.

So where did that leave them?

A knock on the door startled her into dropping her spoon. “Shit.” She picked it up and stood. Who was at her door at this hour? A flash of fear hit her in the stomach. Surely it wasn’t someone from Nord? That threat was supposed to have passed, and she hadn’t heard otherwise in the six weeks she’d been back.

But that didn’t mean it was true.

She’d never been this paranoid before she’d acquired her little blueberry, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she should be diving for the fire escape instead of creeping up to peer out the peephole. When she recognized the dark face and pale green eyes staring back at her, she nearly yanked open the door and threw herself into his arms. Only the memory of how things had ended last time she did exactly that was enough to help her keep control.

She opened the door slowly, half expecting him to bully his way inside, but he didn’t move. “May I come in?”

There was something different about him—hesitant, almost, like he wasn’t sure of his welcome. The burning in her throat got worse. “Sure.”

He lifted a bag that she hadn’t noticed until just then. “Ridley said you’re still craving tacos from that truck.”

At the mention of food, her mouth watered. “She’s playing dirty.”

“I’m not complaining.” His smile was tight and far too brief. “Can we talk?”

Here they went again. She braced herself, but the disappointment lay heavy enough on her shoulders that even the delicious smells coming from the takeout couldn’t dissipate it. “If you want.”

“Sara.” He waited for her to look at him. “I’m going to marry you.” Her throat closed, but he kept going. “Someday. When you’re ready.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I pushed too hard with it, and I was wrong. It was a knee jerk reaction, though I know that doesn’t excuse my pigheadedness. I’m sorry.” He carefully set out the food, lining the cartons up in a row. “But I’m telling you right now, I’m in this for the long run. I know you might need time, but I’m not leaving you.”

“Oh.” Damn it, she could do better than that. She cleared her throat. “You seem to have it all figured out.”

“I don’t. I’ve made mistakes with you.” He reached across the coffee table and took her hand. “Have I mentioned how sorry I am that I botched the whole conversation surrounding finding out you’re pregnant?”

“You weren’t the only one who made mistakes.” It would have been convenient if she could play the injured party and pretend she wasn’t just as much in the wrong as he was, but it would be a lie. “I was losing my shit that day—and pretty much every day since. I said some horrible things to you.”

“I brought you something else.” He reached into his pocket with his free hand and brought out a small box. For a second she almost panicked, but then she realized it was too big to be a ring. Z opened it and turned so she could see inside. It was a smaller, daintier, version of the necklace she could see peeking out of the collar of his shirt. The same one he’d put around her neck back at the house where they’d shared a stolen week. He caught her questioning glance. “You said you want to take things day by day, and I can respect that, but this is my promise to you—and to my son or daughter you’re carrying. I will be here, constant as the compass points north, no matter what happens. I’ve fallen head over heels for you, and I was almost fool enough to let you slip through my fingers. I won’t make that mistake again.”

She leaned forward and let him slip the necklace over her head. It fell to rest directly over her heart. She pressed her hand to it, fighting back the stupid hormones that had her eyes burning. “Z, I think that might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“It’s the truth.” He took a deep breath. “I know you might need time to think about it, but I’m prepared to wait as long as it takes…”

She was already shaking her head. “Stay. Please. It’s been miserable without you, and I don’t want to waste another minute apart because of stupid shit.” She took his hand and led him around the coffee table to sit on the couch next to her. “Do you want to see pictures of the baby?”

His grin damn near lit up the room. “There’s nothing I’d like more.” He bent down until his head was level with her stomach. “You probably can’t hear me, little one, but I’m your daddy. I’m not perfect, but I already love you more than I thought possible.” He pressed a gentle kiss through the fabric of her tank top, and then rose to press an equally gentle kiss to her lips. “I’m going to enjoy the hell out of raising a family with you, Sara Reaver.”

Epilogue

“Now, baby girl, we’ve gone over this.” Z considered his daughter, who was happily gumming away on her fist with a very distinctive look on her face. “You’re supposed to leave nasty surprises for your mother only.”

“Good luck with that,” Sara’s voice floated from the kitchen.

“A man can dream.” He lifted Ivy and gave her lower regions a cautious sniff. The scent that assaulted his nose was enough to have his eyes watering. “I thought baby shit wasn’t supposed to stink while you were still breastfeeding.” He’d read the damn books—every book he could get his hands on—and though they’d contradicted themselves more often than not, this was one thing they’d agreed on.

It was just his luck that they were apparently wrong.

“Just keep believing that while you’re changing her diaper.” Sara’s amusement made him grin in spite of himself. Three months of shared sleepless nights had cemented their bond into something damn near unbreakable. She hadn’t agreed to marry him yet, but he’d moved in right before Ivy was born, and their life was pretty fucking amazing as far as he was concerned.

He mock frowned at Ivy, but the expression turned to a stupid grin when her blue eyes—so like her mama’s—twinkled. “You little turkey, I can’t even pretend to be mad at you.”

She took her fist out of her mouth long enough to coo at him.

“Yeah, I know. I can’t leave you sitting in that disgusting mess. Give me a second.” He laid her on the changing table and kept a hand on her stomach while he pulled out a diaper, the wipes, and baby powder. Z paused. “Now, I know last time you thought it was hilarious to make a mess all over your poor dad, but this time is going to be different. Agreed?” She cooed again, which was as good as it was going to get.

He took a deep breath and went to work, going through each step as quickly and thoroughly as he could. Five minutes later, she was cleaned, powdered, and in a new diaper, all without any explosions or traumatic events. Z disposed of the gross diaper. “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

It was worlds better than the first diaper change. He…didn’t like to think about that, about how completely incapable the concept had made him feel. Parts of it seemed to come to Sara so naturally, while he was left a lumbering fool. But he’d learned, and when Sara got overwhelmed or exhausted past the point of reason, he was there to shoulder what she’d let him.

God, he loved that woman.

Z took Ivy and leaned against the doorway into the kitchen, bouncing her gently in the way she liked. “Your mama is something else, baby girl.”

Sara glanced at him over her shoulder. “No trauma this time?”

“None.” He ran his free hand over Ivy’s dark curls. “She was a perfect angel.”

Sara left the stove and walked over to press a kiss to their daughter’s forehead and another to his lips. When she stepped back, her grin was damn near wicked. “So…I was thinking.”

“Oh yeah?” He watched her, noting that she’d done something different with her hair today. He’d missed it earlier.

“Yeah.” Her grin widened. “Once Ivy is asleep, I want you.”

It took a full two breaths for her meaning to penetrate. “You mean—”

“Yep.”

They hadn’t been intimate since Ivy. She’d gotten the okay from her doctor last month, but babies didn’t leave a lot of energy left over for that kind of thing. He wouldn’t lie and say he hadn’t spent many long showers working off energy, but Z also cherished the fact he was able to spend his nights in Sara’s bed, with her body fitting perfectly against him. He hadn’t said a damn thing about sex, because he refused to pressure her before she was ready.

Apparently she was ready.

“You don’t have to.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know. I want to. God, you have no idea how much I want to.”

Suddenly their daughter’s bedtime couldn’t come soon enough.

All through dinner, Z’s focus narrowed on Sara. Yeah, he played with Ivy and did the dishes and the other little things that had built up while he was gone during the day, but he was painfully aware of every move she made. Time seemed to pass quickly and nowhere near quickly enough.

He had a beer on the couch while Sara disappeared into Ivy’s room, sipping it slowly while the television droned in the background. Already, he was rock hard and aching, but he wasn’t going to tackle her the second she came through that door.

No, he wanted to make this special for her.

Z leaped to his feet and headed into the bedroom. It took ten minutes to get everything set up. He finished lighting the candles as the door opened and she stepped into the room. The delight on her face made it all worth it and more. “Oh, Z.”

He looked around the room, trying to see it as she did. He’d lit a dozen candles on the dresser and nightstands, leaving the bed bathed in soft light. It wasn’t much, but from her expression it was more than enough. “Come here, sweetheart.”

She stepped into his arms and went up onto her tiptoes to kiss him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He lost himself in the feel of her in his arms, her body soft against his, her hips moving in a demanding way that he was all too eager to satisfy. But first he had one last question. “Hard or soft?” Tonight was about her, which meant he needed to know.

He felt her smile against his mouth. “I have to choose?”

Well, fuck. He shuddered, determined to keep himself under control. “No, sweetheart. You don’t have to choose.” He laid her down on the bed and set about stripping her. Though he’d seen her naked countless times in the last year, it felt new and different this time. Z spent long minutes worshipping her breasts, before kissing his way down her stomach. Her cry when he dragged his tongue over her clit was music to his ears. He took his time, driving her closer and closer to the edge, relishing every sound she made and every time her hips lifted to meet him.

Sara came with a cry, and he wasted no time moving up her body to settle between her legs. Z entered her, inch by inch, gauging her reactions every step of the way. She dug her heels into the mattress, trying to take him deeper, but he stopped her with a hand on her hip. “I’m trying not to hurt you.”

“Let me worry about that. I
need
you.” She hitched a leg over his hip and sighed when he gave in and sheathed his cock completely inside her. “Oh God, yes.”

He kissed her, moving in her until he wasn’t sure where he stopped and she began. He took the angle she loved so much—the one guaranteed to drive her out of her mind over and over again—needing to feel her come around his cock. “Come for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you.”

“So…demanding.”

“Yes.” He bit the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, and that was all it took to send her hurtling over the edge. He tried to hold back, tried to keep control, but it was too much. Z pounded into her once, twice, a third time, and came hard enough to make him see stars. He rolled to the side, keeping her tucked against his chest.

“Damn, I missed that.”

“Me, too.” He brushed her hair back from her face. “But I’d happily never have sex again if it means I get you and Ivy in my life.”

She laughed softly. “Luckily, it’s not an either-or situation. You get us and you get hot sex, too.”

“Lucky me.”

A strange look crossed her face. Almost nervous. “Lucky both of us.”

He frowned. “What’s wrong? Damn it, I
did
hurt you, didn’t I?”

“What? No. No, it’s nothing like that.” She cuddled closer, the tension in her body giving lie to her words.

He took a deep breath, trying to get enough emotional distance to approach this in the right way. Sara had proven time and again that a direct confrontation made her dig in her heels. He took another breath. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“Z…” She lifted her head. “I love you more than I ever thought possible, and the last year has been insane and wonderful and a roller coaster that I don’t want to get off of. And you’ve been there every step of the way.” Her smile was soft and sweet. “You asked me a question back then—multiple times.”

He swore to God that his heart skipped a beat. She was talking about his proposing. “I did.”

“I said no—more than once.” Her smile trembled a little. “I’d like to change that answer. So, Zebadiah Loreto, would you do me the honor of being my husband and making an honest woman of me?”

Joy threatened to turn him mute, but he soldiered past it and gathered her close. “Fuck, yes. I’d marry you right this goddamn second if there was a priest around.”

She laughed. “As much as I share the sentiment, I think I’d like the whole nine yards. The big dress, the tiered cake, a church packed with our friends and family.”

It was all too easy to imagine standing at the altar and watching her walk down the aisle toward him, a vision in white. Z kissed her. “Anything, sweetheart. If you want me to go catch a flock of fucking doves with my bare hands to release that day, I’ll do it.”

“I’ll remember you said that.” They both tensed when Ivy’s cry cut through the wall between their rooms. Sara dropped her head onto his chest. “In the meantime, reality intrudes.”

“I got her.” He climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweats. Z paused at the door and turned to look at her. “You just made me the happiest man alive, Sara Reaver.”

“Good.” She stretched, her body a long line he wanted to spend a few more hours worshipping. “Remember that the next time you’re changing a poopy diaper.” Her laughter followed him from the room, a perfect match for his own.