He's Back

by Aria Ford

  “Don’t worry. She’s not contagious, sir,” the waitress says, “Caleigh’s just pregnant.”

  Pregnant.

  Fire blazes in my vision.

  I’m on my feet, knocking my chair back.

  Mine.

  The word mine pumps through my body.

  It’s primal. A caveman impulse, this possessiveness.

  I have to know.

  I already know.

  Mine.

  I cross the huge room swiftly, the other waitress chattering at my elbow and rushing to keep up with me. I charge into the kitchen where there is only a chef, a manager. No one else. No blond. No one who belongs to me.

  I throw open the alley door, but she’s not out there. When I turn back, I see two purses on a shelf—one for each waitress—so she hasn’t gone far. She hasn’t left the building.

  I’ll find her.

  Then I’ll know.

  Then she’ll know. That she’s mine.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Caleigh

  I was so shocked when I saw him. My whole body responded. My nipples hardened, my skin flushed. My pulse was a frantic flutter in my throat. I wanted to put my mouth on his. Wanted to feel his tongue again, his hands, his skin. I couldn’t get away fast enough. I want to go to him, but I know I’ll just fall into his bed if he’d have me. That he can never find out I’m pregnant. He couldn’t trust me after that. He’d think I was just trying to trap him. I can’t be with a man who doesn’t trust me and doesn’t love me the way I love him.

  I’m hunched over the sink in the ladies’ room, sobbing. I love him. I have been in love with Griffin all along. I just never admitted it to myself until this moment. When I saw him, when I met his eyes for an instant, it flooded through me like a blue electric shock. That I’m his for the taking. That what I feel for him is more than lust, more than a crush. More than anything. It was hard to keep my hands off him. It was hard to keep from curving my hand on the swell of my belly and smiling at him. I have his baby inside me. This makes me joyous and miserable at the same time.

  I love Griffin.

  We can never be together.

  My heart is breaking. I sob and sniff and wipe my eyes. In the mirror, my reflection is all huge dark eyes, trembling lips, flushed cheeks. This is what I look like in love, heartbroken, I think.

  Heather promised to let me know when he’s gone. I’ll just hide out, say I’m ill. It may cost me my job but that’s better than having to face Griffin, knowing what I know now. That I’m carrying his child. That I’m in love with him.

  I wish I had my phone. I could watch the time, see how long I probably had to keep hiding in the bathroom. They’ll need at least two hours to eat. I don’t know how long I’ve been in here when I start wiping my eyes and blowing my nose. I sit down on the fancy red upholstered bench. At least it’s a nice ladies room.

  I get bored with staring at the dizzying swirls of black and gold on the wallpaper so I close my eyes. Maybe I’ll take a nap, is what I’m thinking. I hear the door swing open. Heather’s checking on me probably. She still feels guilty that she didn’t come after me the night I was attacked, so she’s overprotective of me now. I open my eyes, ready to tell her I’m fine.

  It’s not her.

  It’s him.

  Griffin.

  All dark hair and fiery eyes. His gorgeousness feels like a slap to my face. I shrink back against the wall. I’m afraid to come too near him. If I smell him, I’m lost. If he gets closer I’m lost. He’s coming toward me slowly. His face, his handsome face, is a riot of emotion. I see anger and fear there. I see something else I can’t name. He isn’t blocking the door. I could get away now if I want to.

  I don’t want to get away from him. I want to be closer. As close as two people can be. Cravenly, I part my lips, wanting to kiss him, wanting to beg him if necessary. My hand goes to the swell of my stomach protectively on instinct. His gaze follows my hand, focus on my belly. On the soft curve that used to be flat when he kissed his way down it. His mouth is set in a hard line, somewhere between fury and anguish.

  “I know you’re pregnant.”

  He bites out the words. I stare at him, motionless. I can see he’s emotional and angry. I can see the hard sparks in his eyes, the way he’s looking at me. I feel icy cold under that gaze.

  “Is it mine?”

  I shut my eyes just to keep from having to look at him. Now is my chance to lie. To get him out of my life—our lives—forever. I can tell him that I slept with lots of guys. That I have a boyfriend. That someone else, anyone else, is the father.

  “There was only you,” the words fall from my lips unbidden on a sob. I cover my face with my hands, “I didn’t mean for you to find out.”

  Griffin’s hands are on my arms, lifting me from the bench to stand before him. He tips my chin up so I have to face him.

  “Caleigh,” he says. He knows my name now.

  I blink back tears. This hurts so much to admit to him that I’m pregnant with his child, that I didn’t tell him because I was afraid he’d mistrust me, hate me, reject me. Or worse, stay with me only for the baby’s sake. I can’t tell him any of that. I can’t say anything. I feel the heat of his body just inches from mine. I’m heaving in breaths like a runner, the swell of my breasts straining my blouse.

  He is on me now, his hands on my face, his mouth—that soft, hot mouth—on mine. He’s parting my lips, and I’m opening for him gladly. Yes, his tongue in my mouth after all this time. It feels so right, so complete that I groan and clutch the front of his shirt. I’m wadding up expensive fabric in my fists as I cling to him. I can’t keep my hands off him. I shiver when his fingers trail down my throat. Then he starts unbuttoning my shirt, and I moan from the brush of his fingertips on the skin of my chest. My breasts feel so heavy and ache for his touch. My skin tingles with the knowledge that he’s touching me, he wants me, even if it’s only now, only this once. The chemistry between us is irresistible. I can’t stop touching him.

  He picks the safety pin out of the fabric and opens my shirt. His palms cover my breasts through the lace of my bra. I moan again. I’m afraid I’ll come as soon as he touches my nipples. I’m so wound up. I want him so much. I’ve wanted him for so long. His leg presses between my thighs, and I rub against him wanting the pressure and friction at the juncture of my thighs.

  Griffin reaches behind me, his hand sliding under my shirt along my back, and unclips my bra, letting my breasts fall free. He strips the shirt and bra off me impatiently, his arm hard around my waist now, pressing me against him as I ride his muscular thigh. He bends me back and takes a nipple in his mouth. The sharp tug of his teeth on the sensitive skin makes me cry out at once. I feel the pull of desire, the thick, hot arousal deep in my belly, twisting between my legs.

  “Please,” I whimper.

  He licks and sucks my nipples. His hands curve down to cup my butt. It’s difficult not to scream yes over and over every time he touches me, every way he touches me. Griffin presses me against the iron hard proof of his arousal, and I gasp. It feels so good. I want him inside me. I bite my lips to stop myself from begging. He’s kissing me now, his lips plundering mine. I rake my fingers through his hair and kiss him back. My heart swells due to how much love I feel for him. It’s a delicious, painful sort of heaven being here with him like this. I wonder if it’s unfair of me to take advantage right now, since he is stunned by my admission about the pregnancy, since he may be too emotional to make a decision he won’t regret.

  I push him away, my breath ragged. I slump against the counter. I’m bare from the waist, exposed. I back away from him.

  “I don’t—don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret. I mean, I know we already have—that you probably wish I wasn’t pregnant, that we didn’t—before.” I choke out, breathless.

  “Never,” he says ferociously, his hand at my waist hauling me against him, “I never regretted making love to you, Caleigh, and I never will. I want you now, the same w
ay I wanted you in that alley. Maybe more.”

  I feel a rush of love for him. My arms go around his neck. I raise my face to be kissed. He kisses me so thoroughly, so deeply that my knees buckle. His arm around my waist is the only thing holding me up. I kiss his chin, his neck, working his buttons open. He practically tears my pants off. I rub my breasts against his bare chest, and the sensation is so satisfying. I hear him groan, and it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard. I run my nails down his chest as he claws my panties down, and I kick them away.

  Griffin lifts me by the thighs, bracing me on the edge of the gleaming black counter. He holds my jaw in his fingers and kisses me, his tongue in my mouth making me quiver with desire. When his fingers slide between my legs, he finds my wetness for him.

  “God, yes, Caleigh,” he groans.

  I unzip his pants and push them down just enough to free his jutting erection. I want it in me now, and I tell him so. His hips flex forward and he is within me at once. At the force of his first thrust, I arch toward him, my head falling back. I moan loudly every time he rocks in to me. My fingers scrabble along his neck until they find purchase on his shoulders, his hot skin underneath that shirt I’ve pushed down. I’m biting his bottom lip, jerking my hips up to meet his thrusts. I can’t control any of it. My body has taken over, instinct driving me on toward the fiery climax I know is building. I wind my legs around his hips to hold him tight against me. He lifts me, never pulling out, and carries me to the wall. He presses my bare back to the shiny black and gold wallpaper. He holds me up by my thighs, pulling them higher so he can plunge deeper in me. “More,” I whimper, panting so hard that I’m lightheaded. I think for an instant that I may faint. Black spots are appearing before my eyes as my head lolls back against the wall. I want him so much, all of him.

  Griffin slips his fingers between us and rubs furiously, relentlessly at the swollen nub until I scream, wriggling and bucking against him as I come harder than I ever have in my life. I’m weeping with the strength of my release as he pumps into me, emptying with a hard jolt of his entire body that presses me flat against the wall. I cling to him weakly. He kisses me, lowers me onto the bench. He sits beside me, pulls me into his lap and holds me, buries his face in my neck.

  “God, I missed you,” he breathes. I shiver at the words as much as the sensation of his mouth at my throat.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Griffin

  The baby is mine. MINE! That word screams through my blood as I hold her. She is all that I want. Caleigh and the baby. Our baby. I never really knew what thrilled meant until this moment. The joy coursing in my body, the future opening up with possibility. It’s everything. She is everything. She’s also crying. I wish she wouldn’t.

  “What’s wrong?” I finally say.

  “I’m so sorry,” she chokes out. “I can’t do this. I can’t be with you just for the baby’s sake. I’d rather raise him alone than be with a man who hates me. I don’t want your money. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d think I trapped you and did this on purpose. I didn’t! I swear it! I just didn’t think—birth control never even occurred to me. I was so upset that night, I let myself get swept away. I was shocked when I found out I’m pregnant. I know you’ll blame me and think I’m a gold digger. I don’t want your money. I don’t want you to do the right thing because it’s the right thing—just leave me. Please!”

  She scrabbles away from me, sobbing, and picks up her clothes. She puts on her shirt, steps into her panties. She keeps her back to me. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

  “I don’t hate you,” I say, although I’m not sure why I have to say it when it’s so obvious. “Do you think that we just had hate sex or something? Because I took one look at you tonight and had to have you. When you said the baby was mine, I have never wanted anything more than I wanted you right then.”

  I get up and gather her in my arms, hold her close against my chest, “I would never think that you were trapping me. I wouldn’t. It’s okay. I didn’t exactly bust out the condoms that night. It’s as much my responsibility as it is yours, to use birth control. I’d never blame you—either of us, because this is how it’s supposed to be.”

  I kiss her softly. She shudders, sniffles. I help her with her clothes, then straighten mine up. I take her out the back. I’m ditching another private dinner to leave with the same waitress. I can’t believe my good luck.

  I call my driver. I tell him to get her purse and meet us out front. Within two minutes, we’re in my car. I settle in to put my arm around her, but she crawls into my lap and puts her arms around me. I cradle her against me and rub her back with one hand to comfort her. She’s really upset. I can’t imagine how she’s been feeling these last few weeks, alone and pregnant. How did she think she’d manage financially on her own? How could she think I wouldn’t want my child—our child? How could she think I wouldn’t want her?

  I take her to my apartment. Once I have her there, I leave her on the couch and go to my closet. I come back with a blue shirt for her.

  “This is how I’ve pictured you a thousand times. In my shirt.”

  She dodges into the bathroom, washes up and changes. When she comes out in my shirt—just my shirt—I can almost taste her in my mouth. I want her so much. I beckon to her and she sits beside me on the couch.

  “I haven’t touched another woman since you,” I confide, “I couldn’t. I went out with a few, but I made these stupid excuses so I didn’t even have to kiss them. I wasn’t attracted to anyone. I looked for you everywhere, so you better tell me your real name. I want to know the name I’m going to change. I’m going to give you my name,” I say, stroking her hair.

  I loosen her ponytail and let her hair down. I’ve missed her hair in my hands. I’ve missed all of her. I kiss her hair, her cheek, her forehead.

  “I can’t marry you, Griffin. My name is Caleigh North. I’m almost twenty-three years old. I’m going to be a mother, and I’m not going to marry you so you can feel like you did the honorable thing. I don’t regret the night we spent together. I never will. I don’t regret this baby. I’ve heard his heartbeat, Griffin—it was so beautiful. I won’t ruin a miracle, won’t use this child to get you and keep you.”

  “You don’t have to. I want you both. How can I prove that to you? How can I make you understand?”

  I’m begging her now. I want her to tell me what I have to do or say to make her stay here forever. She’s in my shirt, on my couch. She’s right where I want her, but she’s refusing to see that I need her to stay. I don’t care that I’ve never had to chase a woman, that she should be relieved that we can be a family. I don’t care about anything but keeping Caleigh, making her my wife.

  “Marry me,” I say. I take her hands in mine, both of them, and clutch them. I sound desperate. I am desperate. “You’re mine. The baby is mine. I’m not letting you go, either of you.”

  “You don’t get to let me do anything. You’re not in control,” she says.

  That’s what bothers me. She holds all the cards here. I’m used to making deals where I have something the other person needs. I don’t have that now. All I have on my side is money, which doesn’t count for a hell of a lot when you’re offering a woman your heart and your name and she’s saying, hell no.

  “Then I’ll have to persuade you,” I say.

  I can’t use money to win her over—she’s too horrified by the idea of being a gold digger, so I’ll have to use the only other weapon I know I have. I’ll seduce her. She trembles lightly beneath my fingers as I stroke her cheek. She is glorious, ripe and lovely. I want her again. I want her always. I kiss her lower lip softly as I can.

  “Let me make love to you then. Let me show you,” I say.

  “Yes,” she breathes the word on my lips.

  I blink at her, my eyes burning with what might be unshed tears. Then I kiss her again. I have to make her see, make her feel the truth. I lay her back on my plush couch. She leans back willingly, her hands on
my buttons. She wants me too. That is my solace, Caleigh wanting me despite everything. Despite the fact that I knocked her up and never went to find her. Despite the fact that I was nursing a bruised ego over her one-night-only pronouncement while Caleigh was ill from pregnancy.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper to her. I kiss her collarbone. I want to be gentle and tender with her this time. Earlier, I was so driven by the need to join with her that I was rougher than I should’ve been with her. I whisper again, “I’m sorry for everything. Did I hurt you earlier?”

  I kiss her temple and search her face for any signs of pain or sorrow. She shakes her head, “I needed you so much. I still do. I just can’t have you.” Her pretty brow crinkled with anguish. I tried to smooth her worry away with my fingers.

  “You already have me, silly girl. I’m yours. Let me show you.”

  I lay my palm reverently on her stomach, shut my eyes and hold my breath. I swear I can feel life in there. Not a heartbeat, of course, but something real, something bright and something ours. I can feel the power of the miracle she spoke of. The life we created together by accident in the heat of passion. I peel open my shirt to reveal her body to me. She is so beautiful and I don’t miss the opportunity to tell her so. I kiss her gently, stroking her breasts with light, teasing touches. I revel in seeing her writhe and chew her lip as desire twists her.