Page 21 of Beneath His Vow
“You need me at any point call. I’ll come right away, yeah?”
It’s not an empty promise. I mean it. “Thank you. I’ll see you later.”
“I’ll pick you up.” No way in hell am I letting her come home alone when she’s like this.
She kisses me, and there’s nothing hesitant in it, nothing that tells me the issue is between us. That calms some of the storm swirling inside me.
“Casey, I?—”
Her smile suddenly fades, her eyes focused just past me. I turn, following her line of sight even as I angle myself in front of her in case there’s danger.
A lean, preppy looking guy is heading into her building with his smug laptop bag slung over his shoulder like a badge of honor. The press of his suit, the way his hair flops into his eyes—all of it instantly pisses me off. It’s the kind of look that says corporate drone without a single independent thought of his own. Smug, self-righteous prick.
As if he knows he’s being watched, he turns, alert. It’s a primal nudge that a predator is close. His eyes find mine even across the space between us and there’s a beat where he falters as he locks onto me.
Scared little boy.
What does he have to be scared about?
Every warning light on my internal dashboard is fucking lit up as he hurries inside.
Lexi’s fingers curl into my shirt and my attention shifts back to hers.
“Is that your boss?” I ask, even though I already know the answer from her reaction.
“That’s James,” she confirms. “I better get inside. He’ll lose his mind if I’m late, especially since he saw me out here making out with my hot as sin husband.” She tries to smile but fails. I see through the watery attempt.
I wrap my hand around her nape. “He so much as raises his voice to you and I’ll feed him his fucking teeth.”
It’s not a threat. I’ll fucking kill him before I let him upset my wife.
“Okay, down, baby. I got this.” She pats my chest like it can soothe the beast rising within me. “I’ll see you later.”
My feet almost move with her, but I force stillness into my body. I have to trust that she can handle this—whatever it is—and if she can’t, I have to believe that she’ll tell me.
NINE
LEXI
I’m four months pregnant.Sixteen weeks. And the way my husband’s hands are on me has me moaning like I’m not carrying extra weight, exhausted, and living on the edge of nausea all day long.
I’m lying on the couch in his office at the back of the clubhouse. I can hear the low rumble of music coming from the main bar. It’s comforting, familiar in a way that allows me to relax. Everything seems to be great right now. James has kept his distance at work since he locked eyes with Casey, and finally I feel like I can breathe again.
Or I would be able to if I wasn’t moaning like a needy bitch in heat.
I tip my head back against the arm of the couch, and close my eyes. Casey’s touch swings between light and heavy, too good and yet not enough. “I swear,” I moan, “the only reason I got pregnant was for this.”
He presses his thumbs harder into the sole of my foot, hitting a sensitive spot and rubbing away the pain in my arch.
His brow kicks up. “If I’d have known foot rubs were the secret to getting my hands on you every night, I’d have knocked you up sooner.”
He has no fucking idea how good this feels. My body isn’t heavy yet, not in the way I’m expecting it to feel as my belly grows bigger, but every part of me seems to ache.
Especially around my hips and my thighs.
But today, my feet are on fire. It feels like someone stretched the bottom of my foot to breaking point.
“You say that now,” I drape my arm over my eyes, “but what about when I’m eight months pregnant and my feet are three times their usual size. You’re not gonna be so enthusiastic then.”
