Because of the Dark: A Dark Standalone Romantic Suspense Novel (The Dark Series Book 4)

by Danah Logan

  "Oww!" I yelp, dropping my phone and cradling my belly.

  "WHAT?" Wes is at my side before I can turn. He scans me up and down. "What's wrong? Is she okay? Do you need a doctor?" He fires his questions at me so fast it takes me a moment to comprehend.

  Then, it happens again, and my eyes gloss over. Without answering him, I grab his hands and place them on the right side of my belly—just in time. He jerks back, staring at me slack-jawed.

  "Is that—?" He breathes, and I nod, unable to speak. Hesitantly, he reaches out and puts a hand gently over the spot where Nugget just stretched my skin to the max—the stinging pain I experienced a moment ago.

  Goose bumps spread over my back and neck, and I watch as Wes remains utterly still, waiting. Thankfully, our daughter doesn't leave us hanging. She pushes her little limbs out, and a bump forms under my shirt. Wes's gaze flies to mine, and the moisture in his eyes says it all.

  "She hasn't done that before," I whisper. Speaking at a normal volume feels wrong.

  "Never?" He studies me skeptically.

  I shake my head. "I've felt her, and the doctor said she is perfectly healthy, but she has never stretched like this." I asked my doctor during my last visit if she was okay since I hadn't felt her kick too strongly yet. Her going to town on my organs had been the extent of it—until today.

  Wes squats so he's level with my stomach. "Hey, baby girl. I, um… I'm your daddy."

  Stretch.

  His mouth forms an O, and I can no longer keep it together. Happy tears spill over, and I sob like a blubbery mess. "I'm sorry, I'm just—the hormones." I look at everything but the man in front of me.

  "King." Wes straightens, but when I refuse to give in, he takes my chin between two fingers, forcing my head in his direction.

  If I see his distaste for me, after talking to his baby and getting a reaction from her, it will break me.

  "King," he repeats more sternly.

  I don't want to. I roll my lips under, staring at the framed picture of an ancient truck that hangs on the wall.

  He grips my jaw tighter—not painfully but showing me that no is not an option. Once he has my attention, he surprises me. Ever so slowly, he begins to lower his face to mine. He pauses less than an inch from me, giving me a chance to move away.

  I wet my lips, and his gaze dips, following the movement. I'm breathless. If he thinks I will stop him, he is delusional, but at the same time, I don't dare to breach the distance. Unable to bear the anticipation, I let my eyes flutter closed. I'm trembling and have to force myself to remain still.

  The first thing I feel is his warm exhale, and my breath hitches. Oh God, oh God, oh God. Wes moves his hand from Nugget to my arm and lets it glide to my shoulder with the softest of caresses. He draws me closer, and then his mouth is on mine. Fireworks explode behind my closed lids, and before I can stop myself, I moan.

  He opens up, his tongue darting out. As soon as he touches his to mine, I can no longer hold back. I cup his cheeks and draw him as close as I can, deepening the kiss. A soft chuckle rumbles in his throat as our little bowling ball creates a barrier between us. Instead of pulling back, though, he walks us to the couch without breaking the connection. He sinks down and pulls me onto his lap. I straddle his hips, and Wes groans as I unconsciously grind against him. My palms land on his chest, and I feel his thudding heartbeat under my touch, mimicking my own.

  Wes pulls back slightly, and our eyes lock. He holds my gaze before he places one more kiss on my lips.

  We sit in silence, and I can't help myself. I stroke my thumb over his cheekbone. I don't want to get my hopes up. I won't be able to recover if he rejects me again.

  "What are you doing to me, Princess?" He studies me intently, and I fight the urge to slide off his lap. Better I decide than him telling me he doesn't want me—that this was a mistake. I start moving off, but he stops me.

  "Don't," he orders, and I freeze.

  "I—I just…" I stammer, not sure what I'm trying to say.

  "Don't." He reaches up, placing his fingers on either side of my head. "I know what I said on the phone, King. This—"

  I close my eyes, pressing my mouth together to conceal the quiver in my bottom lip—he said King, not Princess.

  "Please look at me." A kiss is placed on my nose.

  I cannot not obey. My nerves are buzzing with fear and excitement at the same time.

  "You hurt me." The vulnerability he lets me see is almost too much.

  "I know. I'm—"

  "Shh," he shushes me. "Please let me get this out."

  I nod, not wanting him to stop talking. The longer he talks, the longer I can pretend before it all ends.

  Wes drops his hands and wraps me into an embrace around my mid-section. "When I saw you with…your father, I was convinced you had tricked me, made me fall for you. I just didn't understand why. I hadn't been in contact with Lilly or Rhys in years, and I had nothing you could take."

  "I never—" I start, but he interrupts me.

  "Kiwi set me straight weeks ago, but I was too proud to reach out to find you. I would rather drown in my misery. Then, you came back." His gaze drops between us. "And you were not alone. I felt…fuck, I don't know. Cheated? Betrayed? Tricked? I have no clue. Either way, it wasn't good."

  I dip my chin, staying quiet this time.

  "I'm still angry about how I found out. Especially because Lilly knew about you, about…her." He splays his fingers across Nugget. "In my mind, you would've never told me about her." He searches my eyes. "Would you? Have told me?"

  My heart squeezes, but I refuse to lie to him. There have been too many lies already. "I don't know," I whisper. "You hated me. I saw it written on your face that night. I didn't want to keep her from you, but I also didn't want to force you into anything." My eyes begin to water again. "I was scared."

  Wes nods. "I want to be in her life. That hasn't changed." His tone is almost emotionless, and I can't read him. He's not pushing me away, but he's also not saying that he—

  "I want us to try."

  What?

  "I can't promise you anything. We have a lot of damage to work through—on both sides. But I want to give this a shot."

  I scramble off Wes's lap. "Please don't." I hold my palms out as if to warn him off.

  He doesn't move, just stares up at me in bewilderment. "Princess?"

  "Please don't call me that." I can't breathe. "I won't keep her from you, I promise, but please don't do this. I never meant to hurt you. I love you so much. You deserve more than—I'm not trapping you with a baby," I word vomit through a waterfall of tears, taking one step backward at a time. I need to get out of here.

  Wes jerks up from the couch and grabs me by the wrists. "What did you say?"

  Huh?

  His tone softens. "Say it again."

  A crease forms between my brows, and I go over my words in my mind. "I won't trap—"

  "Not that, Princess." He chuckles.

  "I don't—"

  "You love me?" His gaze ping-pongs between my eyes.

  Oh.

  I can't form the words he wants to hear. I didn't mean to blurt them out. Yes, they're true, but it also allows me to get hurt. He must realize my struggle because he releases my wrists and pulls me into a hug. My back stiffens, but he either doesn't notice or—more likely—ignores it.

  Wes rests his head on top of mine. "Princess, I don't want this because we're having a baby." There is a pause. "I love you. And despite everything—who your sperm donor is, or you potentially never telling me that I was going to have a daughter—I can't deny what I feel for you. I've tried."

  His words sink in. He loves me. He wants both of us. I grip his shirt with my fingers and shift to search his features for any doubt, but there is none. He lets me see it all. The pain, the confusion, the love—

  He loves me. Us.

  "I love you," I whisper.

  He's suddenly serious. "You're not going to the wedding with the shadow."


  I can't help but burst out laughing. Pulling him close until our noses touch, I challenge, "What are you gonna do about it?"

  "You're going to be on my arm." And his mouth descends on mine once more.

  We stay in the employee lounge until Mags comes to find me. She opens the door, takes one look, and closes it again. Before it clicks shut, we hear her say, "Fucking finally."

  Embarrassment makes my cheeks burn, and I cover them with my palms. We are sitting on the couch, my legs draped over Wes's lap and his hands on my belly, rubbing circles.

  I peer through my fingers. "What are we going to do now?" I'm not fooling myself into believing we will simply live happily ever after.

  Wes draws in a long inhale, peeling one hand from my face and interlacing our fingers. "We take one day at a time. We date. I have questions."

  Questions?

  "What questions?" My mouth is suddenly too dry, and I swipe my tongue over my lips. It's of no use.

  "Well…" He hesitates for a second. "Have you heard from Gray?"

  Is he asking me this so he can hand the information over to Lilly and Rhys?

  "I haven't spoken to him in weeks." Not a lie; it's been over three weeks since his last call.

  "Do you have a way of contacting him?"

  I narrow my eyes. "No. He always calls from a different number. Why are you asking?"

  His expression hardens. "I don't want him around my child. He needs to be behind bars."

  "I see," is all I manage to say. I'd been so focused on Wes and me that I hadn't considered Gray at all.

  "Is that going to be a problem?" He watches me closely.

  Is it?

  "No." I don't have to think about it. Francis Turner was my father; Gray is a man I never had a relationship with. He has done unspeakable things, and he has to be held accountable for them—no matter what he's done for me these past few years.

  "Are you sure?" Wes is not convinced.

  I place my hand over his on my stomach. "I'm sure. If I knew where he was, I would tell you. He does need to pay for his crimes." Another thought slams into me, and my heart begins to race. My nails dig into the top of Wes's hand. "Promise me something."

  Wes slants his head.

  "If I get arrested for killing E, you need to promise me that you'll take care of our baby." I feel sick. "Promise me you'll keep her safe," I plead. I don't want to leave her—or Wes.

  "You will not go to jail," he says with so much determination I want to believe him.

  "I killed a man."

  "You stopped a brutal rape. You are not going to jail." The way his mouth snaps closed, it's clear this conversation is over, which is confirmed by his following sentence. "I'm going to pick you up for lunch tomorrow."

  "Lunch?" Is he serious? We just talked about—

  "I told you I want to try. We need to start somewhere if we want to be ready when she comes. " He smirks, then peers down between us. "When am I going to meet my baby girl?"

  "Her due date is July eleventh."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Wednesday morning, I get startled awake by a frantic Rhys. My door flies open, and he takes over the entire frame. "Dude, why are you in bed? I've been waiting for an hour." His tone borders on girly hysterical—no offense to any females.

  Huh?

  I peer at my alarm clock. Oh shit! The red digits tell me it's 11:13 a.m. I was supposed to meet Rhys at the venue at ten.

  "I'm sorry. Shit. I didn't go to bed until, uh…two."

  "What the hell were you doing?" He throws his arms up as if to say, what's more important than my wedding?

  "I was with King." That shuts him up.

  King had the early shift at The Grizz yesterday, and after lunch, I dropped her off to change, then drove her to work. We talked about everything and nothing all day. She showed me ultrasound pictures of our baby, and I teared up like a pussy. A week ago, I had no idea I was going to be a father before graduating college. I didn't know if I wanted to be a dad or part of her life—shitty ass selfish move, I know. Den chewing me out was the first step. I was prepared to be there for my daughter—do the right thing. Then, I walked in on Marcus with his arm around King, and it was clear that no matter what happened between us, the thought of another male touching her—now or in the future—was a hell to the fucking no. Not until I knew that there was no future for us. And here we are, giving it a shot.

  I haven't kissed her since Monday night. The furthest we went yesterday was holding hands and her sitting in my arm on the couch. The way my pulse thrashed through my body made me feel like a teenager again that was getting his first feel of a girl's tits—and I didn't even get to touch anything. I couldn't help but notice the size of King's boobs, and dear Lord, if I didn't want to slip my hand under her oversized shirt and—

  "Dude, you better tell me this is morning wood, and you're not this happy to see me." Rhys's mocked outrage makes me throw my pillow at him.

  I blow him a kiss, and his eyes widen, then the biggest grin breaks free. "It's good to have you back!"

  I laugh. "Get the fuck out. I'll be ready in ten."

  It's good to be back—feel like me again.

  The day passes in a blur of wedding preparation. I check my phone regularly until Rhys threatens to confiscate it if I don't focus. But I made King promise before leaving yesterday that she'd text me if she or the baby needed anything. I am already whipped to my daughter's every whim, and she hasn't even asked for anything. I am in deep shit.

  Rehearsal dinner passes smoothly, but when I call King on my way home, she doesn't answer. Every nerve ending instantly goes into overdrive, and I floor it to her house, all kinds of scenarios running through my head. By the time I throw the 4Runner into park, I'm at the brink of having vertigo. What if Gray took her (again), or something was wrong and she needed medical attention?

  I burst into her house without knocking, and Mags jumps off the couch. "Where is she?"

  "Excuse me?" She props her hands on her hips.

  Her attempt to intimidate me is being drowned by the adrenaline coursing through my veins. "Mags," I growl.

  She huffs, exasperated, rolling her eyes. "She's asleep, numb nuts. You kept her up way past the appropriate bedtime for a pregnant woman."

  There's a bedtime?

  Mags stares at me, dumbfounded, then cackles like a hyena on crack, pointing and circling her index finger at me. "That's priceless."

  I flip her the bird and head down the hallway to King's bedroom. Echo is on her doggy bed on the floor and bolts up as soon as she sees me.

  "Hey, girl." I squat down to greet her properly. When her wet kisses have covered every visible inch of skin, I try to gently push her off. "Enough," I chuckle.

  "Wes?" a sleepy murmur comes from somewhere under a massive amount of blankets.

  "Hey, Princess." I keep my voice low, not wanting her to wake up all the way. Being out cold at nine o'clock at night, she obviously needs rest.

  Instead of going back to sleep, though, she pushes herself up to a sitting position and swipes her hair out of her face. "How'd goooo?" She covers the yawn with her hand.

  I sink down on the mattress, facing her. "Good. Seems the best man is a bigger deal than the groom. All Rhys has to do is show up and look pretty."

  She lifts an eyebrow but smiles sleepily. "Don't let him hear that."

  "Nah, he knows. He enjoys being the spoiled trophy husband," I tease, and she shakes her head.

  Her covers slip down, and without thinking, I lean down to place a kiss on her belly. Straightening back up, I notice the shift in King's position.

  "You okay, Princess?" I narrow my eyes at her.

  "Mm-hmm." She avoids my gaze.

  I place my hand on her blanket-covered legs, about to ask once more, when she shifts again, and her cheeks turn crimson. What the—? "What is going on with you?"

  She whips her head in my direction and blurts, "I'm fucking horny, okay?"

  Whoa, what?

  M
y dick responds before my brain can catch up with her words, pressing against the fly of my jeans.

  "You're horny?" I repeat slowly—I have to make sure I didn't misunderstand.

  She covers her face with her hands. "Yes."

  Apparently, I'm an idiot, because my response is, "But we wanted to take it slow."

  Her hands land in her lap. "I know, but I can't help it. Ever since I saw you last week, it's all I can think about when you're around." She sounds as embarrassed as she does confident.

  My ego drinks up her words. "Only when I'm around?" What the fuck am I saying?

  She purses her lips. "Yes, Sheats. You're the only one who gets me wet. Happy?" She scoffs the last word.

  My eyebrows shoot up. Is that a challenge to find out? I push my hand under the covers and between her legs. "How wet, Princess?"

  King's eyes droop, and when I reach her core, I discover two things. "God, you're dripping. And where the hell is your underwear?"

  "Is that really what you're concerned about?" Her question is breathy, and I can't help myself as I slip two fingers between her warm folds.

  "Oh, God." She throws her head back into the pillow and arches her back. I groan at the visual she presents. So fucking hot. My cock is painfully hard, and all I want is to sink deep inside of her.

  I withdraw, and King whimpers in protest. "What are you doing?"

  Standing, I unbutton my jeans in record time and shove them with my briefs down my thighs. "If you think all I'm gonna do is finger you after five months, you've lost your damn mind." My body buzzes with anticipation. I have no idea if it's from the time we were apart or that our entire relationship has changed since then. I had every intention of taking it slow, but that went out the window when I touched her.

  I all but tear my hoodie over my head, and as I drop it, I find King biting her bottom lip, eyeing my dick. "Jesus, woman. Don't do that unless you want him in your mouth."