Bound for Me (Be for Me #4)(51)

Chapter Fifteen





When Savannah woke he wasn’t curled tightly around her like he had been most of the night. She rolled onto her back and stretched her hand out, feeling the cool expanse of sheet.

He’d been gone a while then.

It hadn’t been the twenty-times in twelve hours extravaganza she’d expected. They’d had sex only a couple times. Moderate-to-fast because she’d taken the lead, pulling sexual positions the way she threw bottles of spirits—with flair and daring. Focusing on her body, and on his, was the only way she could think to keep a grip on herself.

And he’d let her. He’d laughed and let her and she just knew he had plans for the remaining six nights.

But even with her theatrics, it had been so searingly intense she’d had to close her eyes, stopping the starlight from filtering through the window and stabbing her in the heart.

The stars burst inside her anyway.

Every time it got harder to maintain the little distance she had left. Every time it got harder to remain the one in control. He was stealing it, tipping the balance. Because while she might be the one on top, he was the one driving beneath.

And he was the one who’d pulled her close into his embrace, warming her, soothing her over-sensitized body until she slept.

The man was gorgeous. And strong. And—was that her phone?

Frowning she snuck from the big bed, scrambling for her bag. Her phone hardly ever rang. When it was did, it usually meant trouble.

“Hello?” She pressed the phone to her ear.

“Savannah. It’s me. Mom.”

Suddenly cold, despite the fire still burning low in the grate, Savannah scurried back to bed and pulled the coverings up around her. “What is it? Is dad okay?”

That was the only reason she could think that her mom would call.

“Uh, yes, I think so.”

“Then what is it?”

“There’s something I wanted to tell you.”

She was getting married. If she thought Savannah was going to be bridesmaid, she was wacked. But—

“I’m having a baby.”

Savannah’s thoughts totally derailed. “What?”

“A baby. Brad and I are having a baby.”

“But…” Savannah couldn’t say it. Wasn’t she too old?

But no. Her mom had only been twenty when she’d had Savannah… twenty-four years later and she was obviously still fertile. And she had the benefit of Brad’s younger man sperm. Dear heaven. It was a nightmare.

“Have you told him?” Savannah asked, panicked. “Dad?”

There was a silence.

“You have to tell him.” Savannah said angrily. “I’m not telling him for you. You’re not putting that on me.”

“Savannah—”

“Congratulations, mom. I’m thrilled for you.”

She ended the call and threw the phone to the floor. First time they’d spoken in months, and it was to be told that.

Rejection sliced open old wounds. That was it then, her mom was never going back. Not to Belle, Louisiana. Not to the place or the people she’d walked out on.

She had a new man, new baby. And it was going to destroy Savannah’s father. Because even though her mom had walked years ago now, her father still hoped. He’d gambled everything in an attempt to impress and win her back.

He’d lost everything material already.

But this new would kill that last hope.

Savannah would have to go see him. She didn’t think her mom even knew how low her dad had sunk. How badly he’d messed everything. Because not only had he lost all his own money, he’d stolen Savannah’s savings too. Together her parents had left her with nothing.

Tears pricked, stinging, but her heart hurt more. Her father was going to be shattered and once again her mom was leaving her to pick up the pieces.

“Savannah? You awake, Sugar?”

As the door opened, Savannah scrunched lower down the bed and pulled the sheet over her face, pressing her knuckles to her eyes. “I’m not here.”

She heard his chuckle and tried to stop her pathetic sob.

“I thought I heard— are you crying?” he sounded aghast.

“Go away.”

“No I’m not going away.” True to his word, she felt him sit on the bed. “I’m not leaving you alone like this.”

“I want to be left alone.” She inhaled deeply. Getting angry with him helped her control her distress.

“Too bad.”

“Stop being the good guy who looks after every one because you’re freaking ‘honor-bound’.”

“I don’t want to look after everyone,” he answered reasonably. “I get that you don’t want to get too involved, but can’t we be friends as well as lovers?”

She didn’t bother to answer that one.

“Why do you isolate yourself so much? Where are your friends?”

“You’re not going to leave this, are you?” She yanked down the sheet so she could glare at him. “You want me to open up and tell you all my problems so you can fix them?”

“I’m not so arrogant as to think that I can fix anyone’s problems. I can barely manage my own.” His laugh held a bitter edge. “If I could, life would be so different. But I do know that talking things over with a friend makes things easier.”