One More Chance (Chance, #2)(16)

Harlow

He wouldn’t talk about it. Not one time had he brought it up. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. I had told him I wouldn’t abort the baby, and now we were just quietly sitting on the plane.

He hadn’t asked about the baby at all since I’d told him, and other than a quick kiss before we drove to the airport, he only tried to hold me—nothing more. He wasn’t acting like the passionate, take-control man who had introduced me to intimacy. It was like I was made of blown glass; he was handling me as if one wrong move would break me.

Which was why I hadn’t wanted to tell him about my heart in the first place.

I hated being treated differently, but things were worse now. I wasn’t just a sick girl to him; I was also the girl who was hanging on by a thread. Did he not get that I was alive because I refused to give in to the restrictions of my heart condition? I had been a fighter since the day I was born. I wasn’t about to stop now.

I wanted my Grant back. The man who couldn’t keep his hands off me. The man who I knew wanted me above all things and made me feel desired. Not the man who acted like it was his one goal in life to keep me alive. That was not what I wanted at all.

“You OK?” His concerned voice only fueled my frustration.

I shrugged, because I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I would yell at him. I loved him, and I was happy to be with him, so I didn’t want to yell at him. But I wasn’t sure I could keep from doing just that if he kept this up.

“You’re frowning like something’s bothering you,” he pointed out.

Something was bothering me, but I wasn’t going to share that with him. I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from growling in frustration and turned to look out the plane window. We were close to Destin, Florida, now. I could see the ocean.

“Harlow.” His voice was gentle. “Look at me, please.”

I hated it when I tried to be firm and he went all sweet. It was hard to ignore a sweet Grant Carter. Giving in, I glanced over at him. His forehead was creased in a frown, and his eyes looked full of worry. “I’m not breakable. I’m still me. You’re treating me differently,” I said, hating the way my voice cracked, which only made me seem more vulnerable. I was trying to convince this man that I was tough.

Grant stood up from the seat across from me and moved to the leather sofa beside me, pulling me into his arms. He let out a weary sigh and kissed the top of my head. I had expected him to immediately deny that he had been treating me differently, but he wasn’t doing that. At least he was aware of it.

“I’m sorry. I’m trying to deal with this right now. All I can think about is keeping you safe.”

“I’ve been taking care of myself all my life. I’m not fragile. I want to be treated like . . . like how you treated me before.” I couldn’t make myself say I wanted him to want me. That just sounded pathetic.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” he replied.

I hadn’t realized that just a few words could be so heartbreaking.

“Give me time. After we talk to the doctor, I’ll feel like I have some control over this. I can’t just disregard your health because I want you. Don’t doubt for a moment that all I can think about is stripping you down and making love to you over and over again. Hearing you pant and cry out. I crave that, baby. But you’re my world. I protect what’s mine.”

How could I argue with that? I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his chest. We were going to get through this. He was here with me, and he wasn’t running scared. He wanted me safe, and I couldn’t be mad about that. Grant had his fears. I had to respect those and give him time. “I missed you,” I said against his chest, although he already knew that. I wanted to tell him again.

“I missed you more. Every damn second I missed you,” he said as his lips hovered close to my ear. The warmth from his breath caused me to shiver.

We sat there in each other’s arms for the rest of the flight. We didn’t talk, because we didn’t need to. Just being together was enough. My eyes began to grow heavy, and I closed them, knowing that when I woke up, he’d be there.

As we walked into the doctor’s office in Destin, Grant was holding my hand. This time, when I saw the other pregnant women in the waiting room with their husbands, I didn’t feel a sense of loss or sadness. Grant was with me, hovering over me in all his possessive, protective glory, as if he needed to fight off an attack of some sort. He was adorable.

“Go sit down, and I’ll get the paperwork to fill out,” he said gently as he pointed to the empty chairs across the room.

I didn’t argue with him, because I was beginning to realize he needed to do this. It made him feel safer if he was taking care of me. Even if I could get my own paperwork. I walked over to my seat and noticed that the eyes of several other females in the room were all directed toward Grant. Of course they were. He stood out. His low voice as he spoke to the lady at the check-in desk was enough to catch anyone’s attention. But the view of his backside in those jeans was also very hard to look away from. The lady closest to him sat up straighter and crossed her legs. She also adjusted her bra, pushing her boobs up so that her cle**age was hard to miss. A flash of anger shot through me, and I felt my face get hot. I glared at her as she kept her attention completely trained on Grant. She flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder and tugged her skirt up just a little so more of her thigh was showing. What the hell?