Page 66 of Sizzling Desire

Trevor, the other one—my buddy, not the waiter—chuckles. “I’ll be honest. That was kind of satisfying to watch.”

Grace huffs, grabbing her water glass. “You’re all insane. Every last one of you.”

I lean in, lowering my voice so only she can hear. “I mean it, Gracie.”

Her fingers tighten around her glass. “Kane?—”

“I love you,” I say, cutting her off before she can argue. “I’m donepretending I don’t.”

Her throat works, her eyes flickering with something unreadable, and for the first time, I see it. She’sscared. Not because she doesn’tfeelit, but because she does.

And that’s enough for now because whether she’s ready to admit it or not, she’s mine, and I’ve never been one to walk away from a fight.

The ride home isquiet. Too quiet.

Grace has been staring out the passenger window for the last ten minutes, arms crossed, body stiff. I can feel the storm brewing, crackling in the space between us, pressing against the windows of my truck like a living,breathingthing.

I’m not surprised. Hell, Iexpectedthis. Doesn’t mean I regret what I did. Not for one damn second. I meanteveryword. Graceismine. She’s carryingmychild. I don’t give a damn who hears it.

But I also know Grace—know the way her mind works. She’s spent so long convincing herself she doesn’t need anyone, that she can handle thingsalone, that the idea of someone stepping in, claiming her,wantingher,lovingher…Itscaresher.

She exhales sharply, breaking the silence. “What the hell was that back there?”

I keep my eyes on the road, gripping the wheel tighter. “Be specific.”

She lets out a dry laugh. “Are you kidding me, Kane?” She shifts in her seat, fully turning to face me. “You publiclydeclaredI was yours in front of theentirewedding party—hell, the entire damn restaurant!”

“I wasn’t aware that was abadthing,” I say evenly.

Her jaw clenches. “Youcorneredthat poor waiter.”

I grin. “You mean the one who couldn’t keep his hands to himself?”

She groans, dragging her hands down her face. “Yougrowledat him.”

Ishrug. “He got the message.”

She glares at me, her chest rising and falling in sharp little bursts.Damn, she’s beautiful when she’s pissed. That fire in her eyes, the way her body vibrates with barely contained frustration… It’s like a drug.

Ishouldease up. Be gentle. But I don’t want to be. I want her tofeelthis the way I do.

“I don’t belong to you,” she says, voice softer now, but still laced with something sharp.

I shift gears, my jaw tightening. “Then why haven’t you walked away?”

She blinks, caught off guard. “What?”

“You could’ve left anytime Gracie.” My voice is low now, steady, controlled. “You could’ve moved in with Kate. Could’ve told me to back off. Could’ve saidnoevery time I touched you.”

Shedoesn’trespond.

I grip the wheel tighter. “But you didn’t.”

Her breath hitches, andfuck, I hear it—feel it—like a bullet to my chest.

I ease the truck onto my street, pulling into the driveway. I put it in park, kill the engine, but neither of us moves. The silence isloudernow.

“Why are you fighting this?” I ask, voice rough.

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