Page 68 of Sizzling Desire

Breathing hard. Holding on.

And finally,finallyfacing this together.

I kiss her one last time, slow and deep, before pulling back just enough to meet her gaze.

“I’ll protect you,” I murmur, brushing my thumb over her lips. “You and our baby.”

Her eyes shine with something I’ve never seen before—something like trust, and fuck, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I grip her face. “For the rest of my life, Gracie.” I press a kiss to her temple. “No matter what.”

And this time she doesn’t pull away.

Chapter 18

Grace

Inarrow my eyes at Kane, who is lounging against the bar like he has zero responsibilities in this world, except to torment me. He’s supposed to be helping me host this coed bachelor/bachelorette shindig. The nerve of this man—this smug, infuriatingly attractive man—who seems to be reveling in my misery while I try to keep an entire party from spiraling into absolute chaos.

He takes a long sip of his beer, eyes twinkling with amusement as he watches me pace in front of him. “You’re stressing out too much, sweetheart. This is a party, remember? People are supposed to have fun.”

I gape at him, incredulous. “Oh, I see,” I say, crossing my arms. “And by ‘people,’ you mean you and your friends, right? Because it’s really easy to sit back and enjoy the show when you’re not the one making sure Sunni doesn’t get banned from this bar for life.”

Kane flicks his gaze over to Sunni, who is currently perched on a chair with one foot dangerously close to the bar top, waving an empty shot glass like she’s about to make some kind of profound toast. Chance, ever the responsible firefighter, looks half-amused, half-resigned, one handhovering near her waist like he’s expecting to have to catch her at any second.

Kane shrugs. “Looks fine to me.”

I throw my hands in the air. “Looks fine? Fine? She’s one bad decision away from licking tequila off Chance’s abs.”

Kane grins. “And?”

I gasp at him. “Oh my god, you’re useless.”

His grin widens, and I swear I can feel my blood pressure rising. “Hey, I think Chance would survive a body shot,” he says casually. “The guy’s an arson investigator. Fairly sure he’s handled worse.”

I groan and turn away, rubbing my temples. “Unbelievable.” Then, because I am running out of patience—and because I am tragically sober—I add, “This is all your fault.”

Kane raises an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? How do you figure that?”

I whirl back to him and gesture wildly around the room. “Because if you weren’t so damn distracting, I would’ve had a better grip on this night before it descended into madness.”

Kane leans in slightly, voice dropping just enough to send a shiver up my spine. “Distracting, huh?”

I roll my eyes, but my traitorous body responds to his tone anyway, my stomach fluttering in ways that have nothing to do with the baby and everything to do with Kane. His scent—woodsmoke, soap, and something undeniably him—fills my senses as he tilts his head at me, that signature, confident look on his face.

I clear my throat and cross my arms, determined not to let him derail me. “Easy for you to say,” I mutter, gesturing toward his beer. “You’re not the one stuck playing babysitter while everyone else gets drunk.”

Kane’s amusement shifts slightly, his expression softening as his gaze flicks—briefly—to my stomach. “You want me to start telling people you’re pregnant?” he asks, his voicelower now, quieter. “That would shut down the drinking real fast.”

And just like that, my whole body stills.

It’s not the words themselves—it’s how he says them. Like he’s proud of the fact he’s knocked me up. Like he wants to claim this—me, us, the baby—in front of everyone. No hesitation. No doubt. Just Kane, standing there, completely unbothered by the fact that our entire world is about to change forever.

My chest tightens, and not in a bad way. In a terrifying way. The way that makes me feel too much, makes me want things I shouldn’t.

Instead of melting into a hormonal puddle, I scowl.

“No,” I snap, before sighing heavily. “I just… I just wish I could have one damn cocktail.”

Kane, of course, being the absolute menace that he is, grins like this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “Ah, I see,” he says, nodding solemnly. “It’s the lack of booze that’s making you cranky.”

---