Rooted (Pagano Family #3)(60)

What the f*ck?

She did some quick math. Eli had found out about the baby about eighteen hours ago. He must have turned around and told his father almost immediately.

And Theo had come right away. But God, he looked like hell. He’d aged in the few months since she’d seen him.

He leaned into the door, his hands cupped around his face, peering through the glass into her house. He saw her. They locked eyes and froze.

He’d come right away.

To do what?

She didn’t care.

She went to the door and opened it. “Theo. I’m so sorry.”

He looked at her belly, showing more now than usual, because the belt of her robe was taut above it. Then he met her eyes again.

“Dammit, Carm. Goddammit.”

Before he could say more, Carmen threw herself into his arms.

And he caught her.





16



When Carmen wrapped her arms around him, it didn’t even occur to Theo not to hold her. God, she was so beautiful. She’d been the most beautiful woman he’d ever known since the day they’d met, but now, pregnant with his child, she was flushed and bright and exquisite, even in a fluffy blue robe.

She’d apologized. But for what?

He was furious, he was hurt, he needed a drink, and he was tired all the way to his marrow, but once she was in his arms, none of the angry things he’d intended to say mattered at all. He just held on and relished the feel of her lips against his throat.

Her fingers fed into his hair, and she brought his mouth to hers and kissed him. He held her more tightly and took it over, letting his tongue taste her full mouth. When she moaned and coiled her leg around his, Theo knew that if he didn’t say something now, they’d be in deep again before he had another chance. He took her head in his hands and pulled away. He tried to read the look in her eyes, tried to see the armor that always lurked there. What he saw instead was something sad and sweet—and desperate, perhaps.

“We need to talk, Carm.”

“I know. Later.” She tried to bring herself to his mouth again, and he held her off. There was only so much his heart could take, and he would find a way to stop right now if he had to.

“Not later, not for this. Do you love me? Straight and sober—do you?”

She blinked, but that was her only hesitation. “Yes. Theo, yes. Yes. I’m so sorry for everything I did to f*ck us up. I love you.”

That was all he needed. He held her face and claimed her mouth, nearly four months of desolate need surging from his chest. She clutched him even closer, and her little belly pushed against his. Her belly, full of his child. God.

Gasping, he shifted his lips from hers and buried his face in the crook of her shoulder. Her hair covered his face and filled his senses. They were still in the doorway, so he walked her backwards into her house and caught the door with his heel, kicking it closed. “Where’s your bed?”

“Up there.”

He looked up and saw a loft above them. A quick glance around revealed an iron spiral staircase leading up there. “Fuck.”

Her laugh at that was almost a giggle. “There’s a daybed in my office. Behind me.”

“Good.” He commenced kissing her again, walking her backwards as he did so, his hands fumbling at the knotted belt of her robe. He finally got it open as they crossed the threshold into the room she’d indicated, and he pushed her robe off her shoulders, helping her step over the puddle of blue fluff.

The daybed was black wrought iron with a twin-size mattress covered in a vividly-hued striped fabric and big, colorful pillows. His scant attention to his surroundings had left the strong impression of a lot of color in her house, but the bed they were aiming at was the first thing he’d truly noticed. As he pushed her gently to sit on it, their mouths still locked together, their tongues still exploring, she reached back and tossed all the pillows to the floor.

As close as they were, Theo felt like he’d barely touched her yet. She was naked, sitting before him, her hands returning to his shoulders and pushing his leather jacket off and down his arms. She was naked and full of his child, and he felt afraid to touch her. As if she might evanesce from his hands if he weren’t careful.

But she was working the buttons on his shirt now, and she broke their kiss to look up into his eyes. “Help me. I can’t go fast enough on my own.”

Smiling down at her, their eyes fixed on each other, he stood straight and stripped. His cock fairly leapt to freedom as he dropped his jeans from his hips. She lay back as he undressed, scooting to the back of the daybed and making room for him to join her.

Before he did, he allowed himself a moment to see her, lying there waiting for him, so lovely. Her breasts, naturally full anyway, were even fuller, and her nipples had darkened. Her belly was firm and sloped, but not yet round. A faint line, just a shade darker than her skin, had developed from her navel downward.

He sat on the side of the bed and put his hand on her belly. She didn’t become mist under his touch. She twitched a little, and he moved his eyes up to her face and found her smiling sadly.

“Are you sorry?” she asked.

“That you’re pregnant? No. Are you?”

“No. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Carmen put her hand over his where it lay on her belly. “For all the reasons you said on the street that last day. Because you were right. I’m afraid. I think I’m always afraid. Of being wrong or f*cking up, or getting hurt. Of just doing it wrong. I was afraid of what you’d say or do. I was afraid of what I’d say or do. I tried to tell you once, but when you didn’t respond, I used that as an excuse to avoid it.”