Page 59 of Sizzling Desire

A lump rises in my throat as a tear slips down my cheek. These damn emotions.

I nod. “Thank you.”

Kate smiles. “Of course. Now go inside before you psych yourself out anymore.”

I force myself to climb out of the car. I don’t look back as I walk toward the front door. I can’t. If I hesitate, I’ll start second-guessing myself, and I can’t afford that right now.

I push inside, my breath catching—only to realize the house is empty. The living room is dark, untouched from when I left earlier. No sound of the shower running. No scent of Kane’s aftershave lingering in the air. He’s not home.

Disappointment tightens in my stomach, quickly followed by something ugly.Is he with someone else?

I grit my teeth. No. I won’t do this. I won’t let my mind go down that road. Kane might be infuriating, but he’s never been the kind of man who plays games.

And even if heisout with someone else? Fine. Whatever. It just makes my decision much easier. If he’s already moved on, if I was nothing more than a hiccup in his life, then I’ll deal with it. Like I always do.

I don’t have time to spiral. I need to staybusy.

I toe off my shoes and head toward the kitchen. If Kane isn’t home yet, he will be eventually, and I’ll have to face him. Might as well give myself something to do until then.

I’ll make dinner. That’s safe. Practical. Domestic.

I move around the kitchen, pulling out ingredients, my hands moving on autopilot. Chop the vegetables. Season the chicken. Heat the skillet. It’s almost normal. Almostnotnerve-wracking. Then my stomach lurches and I freeze, gripping the counter as nausea slams into me.

Not now. Not when I’ve actuallycookedsomething foronce in my life. But my stomach doesn’t care. I barely make it to the bathroom before I’m on my knees, retching into the toilet. My body heaves violently, and my hair falls into my face. I groan, shoving it back as another wave hits me. Damn morning sickness. Except it’s notmorninganymore, and I’m so over this part of pregnancy already.

I try to breathe through it, but before I can fully recover, another problem slams into me.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The high-pitched wail of the smoke detector blares from the kitchen and my eyes go wide. Shit.

I scramble to my feet, ignoring the way my stomach churns, and rush down the hall. Smoke curls from the stovetop. Flames dance along the edge of the pan, reaching dangerously high.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

I lunge for the stove, grabbing a lid and slamming it over the flames. I twist the knob off, my heart hammering. The fire smothers out, but my hands are shaking, my breath coming fast.

I’m such an idiot. I should have been paying attention. I should have?—

The front door bursts open.

Kane.

His eyes take ineverythingin an instant—the smoke, the still-blaring alarm,mestanding in the middle of the chaos, pale and shaken.

He doesn’t hesitate.

“Damn, Gracie.” He stalks toward me, his hands already reaching, his voice sharp with worry. “What happened?”

I shake my head, unable to find words.

His gaze locks onto mine, sweeping over me like he’s checking for burns, for injuries. “Are you okay?”

I nod numbly.

“Gracie.” His voice lowers, rough. “Talk to me.”

I press my hand to my stomach, barely registering the gesture. “I—” My voice shakes. “I got sick. I wasn’t paying attention. It—it caught fire. I’m so sorry.”

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