First comes love.
Then comes marriage.
Then comes a-
Unfortunately, life is not a checklist, and there's no white picket fences and baby carriages. After a failed long and stable relationship, Arryn Rivera tries her hand at online dating and gets mo...
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Rhys froze, speechless. She'd never fought back before, but from the tone of her voice, she meant business. And what did frosting have to do with anything? Well, she might be finished with him, but he sure as hell wasn't done with her. Not by a long shot. That baby was his, and she wouldn't keep him from her. No chance in hell that his daughter would be calling Devon daddy.
He rushed outside, but the tail-lights of the RAV4 disappeared down the drive. He could go after her, and do what? Make himself more of a fool? No. Later today, he'd get Ace to draw up divorce papers and joint custody. He'd be generous with child support. He didn't want his daughter to suffer for the sins of her mother.
He tamped down the anger, and sadness replaced it. Maybe if he'd been less hateful, she could have forgotten Devon and developed feelings for Rhys. Last night, he would have bet his last dollar she had. The need in her voice. Desire in her touch. It was there. Wasn't it? Or did he imagine it because he wanted it to be true?
His head reeled. He couldn't think anymore. He finished dressing and drove to the office. Despite his mixed emotions, when he got there, he put on a happy face just as he'd been doing since his wedding. The blissful groom, married to the love of his life. What a load of shit. Or was it?
Watching her in the kitchen, the soft glow highlighting the delicate lines of her face, his pulse skipped. The same way it did every time he looked at her for more than a few seconds. Her sweater draped her rounded breasts and swaddled her stomach. He didn't understand why a pregnant woman with a belly the size of a prize-winning pumpkin could be so damn sexy. But she was, though he chalked it up to the fact his caveman's brain liked that she was carrying his baby. He'd never lusted after a pregnant woman before, so that had to be it.
Last night, he'd let desire get the best of him, and if he wanted to admit it or not, he'd loved having her in his arms. Hearing her say she wanted him. Feeling her surrender. Weaken from his kiss. Whimper with pleasure. He was such a fool for believing it.
He forced the thought away and plunged into work. As he finished a work call, Devon appeared in his doorway. The sight of him made Rhys' skin crawl. Arryn's history proved lying was second nature to her, but he'd worked with Devon for years. How could he betray their friendship?
His coworker laid a box on Rhys' desk. "This was supposed to be a surprise Christmas gift from your wife."
Rhys stared at the box, then back at Devon. "What?"
He knit his brows together. "Arryn. You know," he gestured, "about yay high, curly brown hair. That woman you married."
Rhys lifted the lid, picked up the knife, and removed it from its sheath. "Damn. This is beautiful."
"No shit. That's a high carbon steel blade with a Buckeye Burl handle and a nickel-silver guard. Man, your girl fixed you up. She's been paranoid, texting like crazy, wanting to know if you suspected anything, and then this morning, told me to give it to you. What's going on? Why the change of heart?"
