The Road to Rose Bend, Naima Simone [jenna bush book club .TXT] 📗

breath, setting her computer on the couch cushion and pushing to her feet. How sad was it that she couldn’t even think the words, much less utter them aloud?

“My urban fantasy book.”

There. She’d said it.

She’d put it out there. And there was nothing wrong with it. She’d almost completed the grant for the community center, so working on her secret book didn’t take time away from that job. Besides, she was a grown woman with great organizational skills. She could manage writing both at the same time. She didn’t have to answer to anyone for her choices. Yet, part of her still wanted to snatch that declaration out of the atmosphere and stuff it back inside where it belonged.

But the other half stubbornly ordered herself to stop being such a chicken.

This is my dream. I don’t need to make excuses, apologize or be ashamed of working on a project that makes me happy.

Sighing, she strode toward the kitchen, rubbing a hand over her belly. Jellybean—oh how Leo hated the nickname Sydney had given the baby—had been more active lately. And every flutter, every roll and poke, was a treasure. Hard to believe that in just a little over three months, she would be able to hold her little girl. Smell her baby scent. Finally see whose features she’d inherited.

Her smile wavered a bit. It’d been four weeks since Daniel had arrived on her doorstep. And three since she and Cole married at the motorcycle rally. In that time, she’d contacted Daniel’s attorney and relayed the information about her marriage as well as her medical records from Dr. Prioleau. Per Sydney’s request, the physician would now email over information from her appointments. Cole had advised that she keep all contact with Daniel through him and her ex’s lawyer for the foreseeable future. He didn’t—and she didn’t either—trust Daniel not to record any conversation with her and twist it to bolster his future case. If someone had asked her even five weeks ago if Daniel would be capable of that kind of subterfuge, she would’ve disagreed. But now?

She frowned, filling the teakettle and setting it on the stove. That she and Daniel had come to this saddened her. Their divorce had been relatively amicable, and she’d hoped that their co-parenting would be the same. She hated that their relationship had turned so contentious.

The front door opened, jerking her from her thoughts. Then Cole entered.

Three weeks, she’d been his wife. Three weeks, she’d been his lover.

So, she should be used to that beautiful, masculine face. That tall, muscled, wiry body.

But even now, her breath snagged in her throat. Her pulse skipped and raced. Pinpricks of awareness danced down her bare arms and spine. Arousal spilled through her like the hot tea that boiled on the stove.

She turned and headed toward the cabinet for a cup. Not that removing Cole from her direct line of sight did anything for the tightening of her nipples or the hollow ache between her thighs. Jesus, the man should be locked up for her safety. She’d read about pregnant women experiencing a boost in their sexual drive, but this was ridiculous. Besides, she suspected this persistent and deep need for him had nothing to do with hormones and everything to do with him. And her reaction to him.

But the question that frightened her most—could she get over it? Would a time come that just looking at him—inhaling his earthy scent, staring into his whiskey eyes—wouldn’t leave her hot, hungry and...unsatisfied?

As much as the question frightened her, the answer scared her more.

So, she chose not to dwell on it.

She opened the cabinet door, but before she could retrieve a mug, a hard chest pressed against her back and a long, muscled arm reached over her head and nabbed one. Her favorite “Not today, Mugglefucker” Harry Potter cup. She ignored the flutter of butterfly wings in her stomach. The baby. That was the baby.

“What’re you doing?” Cole lightly scolded. “You know you’re supposed to be taking it easy and definitely not stretching your arms above your head.”

He moved around her and removed a tea bag from the box. The kettle whistled, and he poured the steaming water into the cup with the bag. She stood back, watching him. And trying not to... She shook her head. Can’t go there. Yet, when he constantly did these sweet, thoughtful things, as if they were just second nature, she slid closer and closer to there.

Which presented a huge problem. Because Cole was the definition of heartbreak. The certainty of that grew with each passing day. Her stomach had grown a little bigger in the past three weeks, and unless they were having sex, Cole didn’t touch her stomach. Barely even looked at it.

She understood why. Panic had to be setting in. Even knowing that Dr. Prioleau deemed her pregnancy normal with no complications so far probably did nothing to lessen his anxiety. After all, Tonia’s appointments had been the same. He was distancing himself from her; she felt it. Except for when they were naked, and he was inside her. Then, she’d never felt as connected to another person. Not even Daniel. Still... That didn’t mean Cole’s pulling away didn’t hurt.

Especially when she needed him to want her just as much as she wanted him.

She had to guard her heart. Not just for her sake, but also for her daughter’s.

Stuffing her wayward—and frankly, depressing—thoughts into the lockbox where she stored all her worries and fears, she smirked. “That’s an old wives’ tale. I’m pretty sure Dr. Prioleau said I should continue to be active. And I think she would file getting a cup of tea under ‘active.’”

“Smart-ass,” he grumbled. He hiked his chin in the direction of the living room, a smile flirting with his mouth. “I’ll bring this in.”

She returned to the couch, and he followed, waiting until she was settled before handing her the tea. Blowing across the top of it, she stared down into the mug.

“What’s this?”

She glanced up, horrified