THE BABY VOW
Page 13
Ethan eyed her. “Go where?”
“I... I guess a hotel.” If she could figure out how to pay for it. Amelia chewed her lower lip. Maybe Gregory hadn’t cut off her credit cards just yet.
“Don’t be stupid. You can just stay here.”
She caught her breath. Was she wrong? Maybe she was. He had kissed her earlier, after all. Before he found out about the baby. And he’d held her twice since then. Maybe--
“You can have the bedroom,” Ethan went on. “I’ll stay out here on the couch.”
Her heart sank. “Oh. No, I can sleep on the couch, it’s fine.”
He caught her upper arm and steered her down the short hall. “I’ve got shirts in that drawer over there if you want something to sleep in and you know where the bathroom is,” he said brusquely. “I’ll be down the hall if you need me.”
“Thanks,” she said, feeling a little hollow.
He only nodded and closed the bedroom door behind him. Amelia stripped off her clothes and pulled one of his shirts on. Then she slid down into sheets that smelled like him and closed her eyes, even though she knew sleep wasn’t going to be easy to attain.
Chapter 16
Ethan
Ethan sat down on the couch and turned the television on, making sure to lower the volume more than he normally would have. He didn’t want to keep Amelia awake, but there was no way in hell he would be getting to sleep anytime soon. Not with her in his bed and her kiss still lingering on his lips.
Why in the hell had he kissed her? He’d been so furious with her that he saw red at first. But...she’d seemed so broken. And he was drawn to her like a magnet. Even now, with all the worry he felt about the club and about the fact that, in less than eight short months, he was going to be a father, he was thinking about her. She was alone. In his bed. And engaged to someone else. He couldn’t forget that part. If he let that part go, even for a second, he’d do something stupid.
She’d stood up to her father...sort of. But she hadn’t broken the engagement. She hadn’t even mentioned breaking it off. Ethan rubbed his forehead. It was late and the day had been shitty for her. Hell, for both of them. But...if she were planning to dump this Anthony guy, wouldn’t she have said something? He wanted it to be first on her list and fuck it if it was selfish of him.
His restless thoughts took a different turn. Maybe he should be happy that she was going to marry someone else. Anthony Barlow was rich. Or, at least, his father was. Why not let the guy give his kid everything Ethan couldn’t? He could provide the nice clothes, the good school. He could give the kid a college education without student loans. Ethan could stick to funding meals at McDonald’s when it was his weekend and buying the kid a motorcycle when it hit time to ride. So why not?
The answer came swiftly and easily. Because it felt as wrong as sandpaper on a sunburn, that was why. He pictured leading that empty life. Amelia and her husband would pull up in their sleek new car, making all of his neighbors stare. Amelia would get out and hurry up to the door, rushing the kid along so they didn’t take up too much of the governor’s son’s precious time. Places to go and people to see, of course.
She would look tired, the way she had when she’d opened the door for him tonight, all the light in those vivid green eyes dimmed by being someone she wasn’t. Then what? Would they have to have an awkward catch up conversation? No, she probably wouldn’t stay that long. She’d kiss the kid, tell them what time she’d be back for pickup and be gone, off to be the good Stepford wife.
Ethan didn’t want that for her. Hell, he didn’t want that for any of them. He didn’t want someone else spoiling his kid. He didn’t want anyone else providing for his kid at all.
And, he might as well admit it: he didn’t want anyone else in bed with Amelia. He had no right to be so possessive of her. She was clearly going through a lot. That was why he’d held himself back when she flung herself into his arms earlier when all he’d wanted to do was scoop her into his arms and carry her down the hall. He wanted to make love to her until she looked at him the way she’d looked at him that night together. He was addicted to that look. Pleasure hazed shock. God, he hadn’t been able to get it out of his head since.
His phone rang, shaking him out of the reverie. Ethan glanced down at the display and didn’t recognize the number. He answered it quickly, eager for something to take his mind off of Amelia. Usually, only members of the club called this late and he was almost hoping someone was having engine trouble. Anything to give him something new to focus on. Hopefully something that would be a real son of a bitch to handle. It would help to have something to funnel the rage into.
“Hello?” he said.
There was a slight pause and then a cultured voice spoke. “This is Representative Gregory Stratton.”
Ethan smiled grimly. Pompous ass. This was perfect. He was already spoiling for a fight.
“Okay,” he said, stretching his legs out and leaning back. “And just what the fuck do you want?”
“I want my daughter to come home,” Stratton said flatly.
“Yeah,” Ethan drawled. “Shouldn’t you be talking to her, then? I’m not her keeper.”
There was another pause, this one slightly longer. “I’m unable to get in touch with her. She’s turned her phone off.”
Ethan didn’t bother to hold back his bark of laughter. “Sucks to be you, Stratton.”
“Representative Stratton,” the man corrected furiously. “I can make this so much harder for you, Billings.”
“You think so?” Ethan asked curiously. “Because I kinda think you’ve played your hand already. You probably won’t be able to get the rest of the government to agree to exterminating us.”
“These laws,” Stratton went on, ignoring Ethan’s provocation. “They don’t have to be so stringent. At least, not on your particular club.”
Ethan snorted. Was Stratton really trying this? It was insulting to his intelligence. “Right. I don’t know if you know this, Representative Stratton, but laws tend to apply to everyone.”
“They don’t have to, Mr. Billings. Not when you know the right people.”
The slick suggestion in the other man’s voice got under Ethan’s skin. In addition to insulting his intelligence, Stratton was insulting his honor. “I think we’re done here,” he said.
“I’m glad to know your club doesn’t mean anything to you,” Stratton hissed.
“I’m glad to know you still think you can bargain for a grown woman’s freedom,” Ethan replied, losing the tenuous grip he had on the ragged remains of his temper. “I’m not holding her here, you dumbass. She came back with me because she wanted to do the right thing! I guess that doesn’t make any sense to you, since you’re bending every goddamn law that you’re not already breaking, but she seems to be actually be a good person. Maybe you should take a fucking hint, you son of a bitch. I’m not crooked like you, and I’m not gonna bargain my kid away!”
“You have my number when you change your mind,” Stratton said tightly. “I promise you, I can make this very--”
Ethan disconnected the call, his hand tightening on the phone until his fingers ached. Losing his temper had felt good for a few moments, but he didn’t get his frustration out completely and now had no outlet for it. He normally went for a ride when the walls closed in on him like this, but he didn’t want to leave Amelia alone in the house. Not when he’d just antagonized her father so badly, anyway.
Guilt began to creep in around the edges of his anger as he thought about what Stratton had said. What could the man do to the club? Ethan really couldn’t think of anything that would hurt them more than the laws Stratton was already pushing for. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t something up Stratton’s sleeve. If the conversation had proven anything, it was that the two men were complete opposites in how they ran their lives.
His own father had been so proud of The Angel’s Keepers. It had given him a purpose, a reason to keep living on the straight and narrow even once h
e’d lost all hope of ever seeing his son. And now Ethan might lose it all because of his own kid.
Ethan rubbed his hands over his face. His eyes were gritty with exhaustion, but he was too wired to get the sleep he needed. Was this really what his father would have wanted? He couldn’t believe Marcus would have valued the club over his kid...but he had valued the club a lot. There had to be a way to have both. There just had to be.
“Ethan?”
He looked up and saw Amelia standing in front of him. His tee shirt hung down nearly to her knees, but he didn’t think she was wearing anything under it. He had to swallow hard before he could answer her.
“Yeah, Amelia?”
“I wasn’t listening on purpose,” she said. “But I couldn’t help hearing what you said just now. I just...I wanted to say thanks,” she said. She looked down at the floor and then back up at him. “For standing up for me. It really means a lot to me.”
“You stood up for yourself,” Ethan corrected. “I just didn’t sell you out afterward.”
She looked stunned for a second and then a quick smile flashed over her face. “I guess that’s true. Anyway...thanks. For not selling me out.”
“No problem.” He waited, just looking up at her. If she asked him back to the bedroom with her, there was no way he’d be able to tell her no. Her breasts pushed against the black fabric of his tee shirt in a mind numbingly sexy way and he could see her nipples starting to bud in the cooler air.
“Goodnight,” she said quietly, and walked back down the hall.
Ethan waited until he heard the bedroom door close behind her before he fell back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling blankly. He had to be at work in a few hours and he wasn’t sure he was going to manage to get any sleep. At least, not as long as he kept envisioning her gorgeous legs wrapped tightly around his waist.
Chapter 17
Amelia
Amelia woke up the next morning surprised by how well she’d slept and how comfortable she felt. Ethan’s bed felt...right. She finally knew how Goldilocks must have felt. She smiled to herself as she snuggled in under the blankets again. Slowly, as she woke up more and more, she realized how late she’d slept and how quiet the house was.
A glance at the clock on the small bedside table told her that it was nearly one o’clock in the afternoon. So where was Ethan? And why hadn’t he woken her up long before this?
She sat up slowly, testing the waters. Mornings could be a little tricky. Her stomach tightened briefly, but she managed to breathe through the initial nausea. Once everything had settled back to where it was supposed to be, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and waited a second or two more. Just as she was about to get up, she noticed a note beside the clock.
The paper was slightly ragged from being ripped out of a spiral bound notepad, but Ethan’s handwriting was neater than she’d expected. It was a hurried scrawl, but very readable. She shook her head at herself. It was a bad infatuation when a girl got giddy over a guy’s handwriting.
Amelia-
I didn’t want to wake you up. I had to go into work, but I’ll make sure to be home around six. There’s some food in the fridge, but call me if there’s anything you want or need.
Ethan
She glanced down at the edge of the paper and saw the number written there. There was also another small note, scrawled more quickly than the one at the top.
I guess you know your old man better than I do, but be careful. Stay inside. I’ll see you tonight.
He was worried about her. Or he was worried about the child she carried. Either way, she walked to the shower with a spring in her step. For the next eight or so months, they were pretty much a package deal anyway.
The shower didn’t take as long as Amelia had hoped. When she was dressed again, she discovered she still had around four hours to fill before Ethan would be back. She put her hair in a quick bun and wandered out into the living room.
It felt slightly awkward to be alone in his house. She didn’t feel like she had the right to dig around, but she also didn’t want to do nothing but sit and stare at the wall until six o’clock. There had to be something she could do and there had to be something it was okay for her to look through.
Not that there was a lot to look through anyway, even if she had been feeling a bit nosey. Ethan had the basic furniture, a couch and a coffee table in the living room in front of the television on the wall. There was a low bookcase against the opposite wall with paperback detective novels piled in it haphazardly. There were also car and motorcycle guides that were dog-eared and smudged with greasy fingerprints. A row of DVDs filled the bottom shelf. She glanced through and found a good mix of action and comedy.
He seemed like such a normal guy. And he was neat, too. The things in the bookcase weren’t exactly stacked and alphabetized, but they weren’t dusty. And the floor she was kneeling on looked like it was vacuumed fairly recently.
Amelia discovered that she was smiling just thinking about him. Smiling in that lovesick way she’d seen other women smile when they talked about their boyfriends’ most minor traits. As if a man taking out the trash without asking or bringing a forgotten lunch by the office was the same as him planning a romantic flight to Rome or proposing on top of the Eiffel Tower. She’d probably had the same smile when she’d read Ethan’s note.
She pushed herself upright. There was no sense in getting all worked up. He was letting her stay temporarily because he had a personal interest in making sure she was okay. They’d seen each other a grand total of twice. It didn’t make sense for her to feel this way about him. He certainly wouldn’t be feeling this way about her.
Logic failed her as she remembered the kiss they’d shared last night. His hands had cradled her face gently, even though the rest of him had been tense with anger. He should have intimidated her, with his big muscular body caging her in when they’d spoken out on the deck, but instead desire like lightning had flooded her whenever he was close.
The woodsy smell of his soap, the clean scent of his skin, the warm leather of his vest...it all combined to make her weak in the knees. And she thought he at least wanted her as badly as she wanted him physically. All that remained was whether he planned to do anything about it.
She walked back into the bedroom and turned her phone back on with a sigh. Missed calls flooded the screen. There were over twenty from her father. There were three from Anthony, too, which surprised her.
She hadn’t even thought about him since Ethan had walked through the door. She’d have to call him and arrange to give his ring back sometime soon. He wouldn’t want Ethan involved in their married life, at least not in such a public way.
Her stomach rumbled, but this time it seemed to be hunger. She turned the phone off again, tossed it onto the bed and headed to the kitchen. She knew she needed to work everything out, but right now she needed space more than anything else. And a snack.
A quick perusal of the kitchen told her Ethan didn’t eat at home a lot. She settled for a bowl of cornflakes and the last of the milk. It was two days out of date but it still tasted okay, so she went for it.
She sat down and watched mindless television while she ate, being sure to avoid the news and gossip stations. She doubted the news had broken yet, but if they were talking about her already, she didn’t want to know about it. The cereal was gone too soon and she was left with nothing to do after she washed out the bowl and put it away.
Ethan was probably right when he told her she should stay in the house, but she chafed at the restriction. She could have gone to the grocery store and had a nice dinner ready when he came home. That would be both impressive and time consuming. Then she realized that, even if she’d been able to leave, she didn’t have any money. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them away as she stood up determinedly.
She turned her phone on again, saw three more missed calls from her father, and then sent Ethan a text. “Would you mind stopping at the grocery store on your way h
ome?”
The reply was almost immediate. “What do you need?”
Before she could answer, she got a call.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” Ethan said. “On second thought, just text this guy and tell him; he’ll deliver it.”
Her cheeks heated up. “It’s not that big of a deal, honestly. I...”
“No, I know there’s pretty much nothing to eat there. It’s not a big deal.”