Chapter 12
Becky woke slowly, her eyes searching for Sloan, but he was gone. She stayed still for a moment, waiting to see if the nausea would hit before she moved. So far, nothing.
Slowly, she sat up, her gaze landing on the table beside the bed. Tears filled her eyes as a small smile tipped her lips.
A glass of water and a package of crackers sat there.
During their long talk last night before she fell asleep, she had told Sloan that when she was pregnant with Frankie, it had been the only thing that helped with the nausea when she first woke up.
He had asked her so many questions about her pregnancy with Frankie that it had surprised her, but then Sloan seemed to do that a lot.
He surprised her in ways she hadn’t expected, in ways that slipped past her defenses before she even realized they were there. It wasn’t just the big things, the moments that demanded attention. It was the quiet ones, like this, where he listened, remembered, and acted without needing to be asked.
Becky reached for the crackers, her fingers trembling slightly as she picked them up. Something so simple meant so much to her. It shouldn’t have brought fresh tears to her eyes, but it did.
She pressed the package to her chest for a second, closing her eyes as fresh tears slipped free. She was one big emotional mess.
Just as the warmth of Sloan’s thoughtfulness settled in her chest, reality pushed its way in, ugly and cruel.
Sloan believed her. He knew she hadn’t betrayed him, and that meant more than she would ever be able to put into words. But what about everyone else? What would they think when they found out? How would they look at her? At him?
The thought made her stomach twist, and this time it had nothing to do with nausea.
She could already feel it, even though no one knew yet. The questions. The silence that would fall when she walked into a room. The quick glances people thought she wouldn’t catch. The pity she didn’t want and the judgment she wasn’t sure she could survive by people she cared deeply for.
And Sloan would see it too. That was what made her throat tighten until it hurt.
Sloan was the leader of the VC Warriors. Respected and feared. Untouchable in a way very few men ever could be. What would this do to him? To the way they saw him? Would they pity him? Whisper behind his back? Wonder if his mate had betrayed him?
Her fingers tightened around the crackers until the package crinkled in her hand.
She could handle people looking at her differently. At least she thought she could. She had survived enough in her life to know people’s opinions didn’t have to break her.
But Sloan?
The thought of anyone looking at Sloan like he was less once the truth became impossible to hide made anger flare through the fear. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve one whispered word, sideways glances, or doubt from anyone because of something he had no control over.
None of this was his fault, yet somehow, she knew he would blame himself. Because that was Sloan. He carried more than any man should.
And now this.
Becky looked down at the crackers in her hand, her smile gone now.
Last night, Sloan had told her they would do this together, and she believed him.
She did. But believing him didn’t stop the fear from crawling back in.
It didn’t stop the sick ache in her chest when she thought about what together would cost him.
She wanted this baby. The thought came so suddenly that it stole her breath.
Her hand moved to her stomach before she could stop it.
She didn’t know how that could be true. Didn’t know if she was allowed to feel this way after everything.
But there it was, soft and terrifying and very real.
A part of her already wanted to protect the life inside her, even while another part of her wanted to scream at the unfairness of how it had happened.
Pushing those thoughts aside for right now, Becky opened the crackers and took one out before placing the package back on the table.
Taking a small bite, she sat cross-legged on the bed as she looked around the bedroom.
Sloan had sold his apartment downtown by the river and bought them a house on fifty acres outside of the city.
It was beautiful, quiet, and she loved it here.
They had made a home that she was proud of.
It still amazed her sometimes that Sloan had so easily parted with his apartment.
He had been perfectly fine in the city with the noise, the river, and the compound close enough that he could be there in minutes.
That life had fit him. But then he had brought her here, to a place with trees, open land, and room to breathe.
He told her to make it theirs, which is exactly what she did.
A small smile tugged at her lips as her eyes moved around the room.
The colors, the curtains, the little things that made a house feel like a home were all pieces of her, and Sloan had never once complained.
Not even when she changed her mind or when she moved something three times before deciding she liked it better where it had started.
He’d just watched her with that look of his, like he didn’t understand why throw pillows mattered but would burn down the world for her right to have all of them.
God, she loved that man.
The thought hit her hard, soft and painful all at once. This room, this house, this life they were building was supposed to be their peace.
But now everything felt different.
She glanced toward the empty side of the bed, wishing he was there, even though he didn’t sleep and she knew he wasn’t far. Still, she felt so alone without him.
As if she had summoned him out of thin air, Sloan opened the door and walked in. His eyes found hers quickly. “Did they help?” he asked, nodding toward the crackers and water.
“Yes.” She smiled with a small nod. “Thank you.”
Becky’s eyes roamed over him before she could stop herself. He wore a pair of gray sweatpants, no shirt, and no shoes. He looked sexy as hell, and uh-oh... her hormones went into overdrive.
During her previous pregnancy, food cravings hadn’t been the only cravings she’d had.
Forcing her eyes off his body and back up to his, she swallowed. Damn, she was horny, and wasn’t that just fucked up in this situation?
Then again, maybe it wasn’t just hormones.
Before all this, before the sickness, the fear, and the secrets she’d kept trying to carry alone, she and Sloan had never had a problem touching each other.
Their sex life had been very active, thank you very much.
But lately, they were lucky to find themselves in the same room long enough to have a real conversation.
She had been hiding how bad she felt, and Sloan had been buried under Warrior business, and somewhere in the middle of all that, they had lost the ease of reaching for each other.
She missed him. Not just his body, though her eyes were having a real hard time pretending they didn’t miss that too.
She missed his hands on her. Missed the way he pulled her close without asking, like touching her was as natural to him as breathing was to her.
Missed the way he looked at her when she knew exactly what was on his mind and loved every dirty second of it.
But more than that, she missed feeling normal with him.
Sloan’s eyes narrowed slightly, and heat crawled up Becky’s neck.
Oh, hell. He knew she wanted him.
Of course he knew. Sloan didn’t miss much when it came to her especially now, and apparently that included her staring at him like he'd taste better than the damn cracker she was trying to choke down.
“What?” she snapped, because embarrassment and fear were a horrible combination.
“Nothing,” Sloan replied, a knowing smirk played across his lips.
“Don’t nothing me.” She glanced away, gripping the cracker a little tighter. “I know that look.”
For a second, he didn’t say anything, and when she dared to glance back, the look on his face stole what little breath she had left. There was heat there, yes, but there was also something deeper.
“You want me,” he said, his voice husky as his eyes darkened.
Becky’s throat tightened.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I do, but it feels wrong. Like I shouldn't because of what—"
Sloan closed the distance between them before she could finish, his hand coming up to cup the side of her face. “Don’t.”
The single word wasn’t harsh, but it held enough power to stop her.
Becky swallowed hard, her eyes searching his. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t make yourself feel guilty for wanting your mate.” His thumb brushed slowly along her cheek, his eyes never leaving hers.
Her breath hitched, and she looked away, but he didn’t let her hide for long. His touch stayed gentle, but firm enough to bring her eyes back to his.
“There is nothing wrong with wanting me, Becky.” His voice dropped lower, rougher. “Nothing.”
“But everything feels wrong,” she whispered. “My body. My thoughts. One minute I’m scared out of my mind, and the next I’m staring at you like…” She shook her head, embarrassed all over again.
A small flicker of heat moved through his eyes, but he kept it leashed. She saw it. Felt it. And damn him, it didn’t help one bit.
“Like what?” he asked, and there was just enough Sloan in his tone to make her narrow her eyes.
“Don’t you dare make me say it.”
His mouth twitched, but the amusement faded quickly as his gaze moved over her face. “I’m not going to touch you unless you ask me to.”
The words hit her harder than she expected.
Becky blinked, her throat tightening. “Sloan, that’s not...I’m not afraid of you.”
“I just need you to hear me.” Sloan sat on the edge of the bed beside her, close enough for his heat to wrap around her, but not close enough to crowd.
“After everything that has happened, after everything you’re feeling, you need to know you are in control of this. Of me. Of what happens between us.”
Tears filled her eyes again. “Sloan—”
“No.” His hand slid down, his fingers wrapping gently around hers, careful of the cracker she still held like some kind of emotional lifeline. “You want me, I’m yours. You need me to hold you, I’ll hold you. You need me to sit across the damn room and keep my hands to myself; I’ll do that too.”
A tear slipped free before she could stop it. Becky cursed to herself, she was so damn sick of crying.
“But don’t you ever think wanting me is wrong.” His eyes darkened, not with anger at her, but with a promise she felt clear down to her bones. “You’re my mate. Wanting me, needing me, missing me… that belongs to us. No one gets to take that from you.”
Her lips trembled. “I have missed you. So damn much.”
Something shifted in his face then, a crack in all that control he wore so well.
“I know,” he said quietly.
“No.” Becky shook her head, her voice breaking. “I mean I’ve really missed you. I’ve been right here with you, and I’ve still missed you. Does that even make sense?”
“Yeah, baby.” Sloan leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. “It does.”
She closed her eyes, breathing him in, letting the warmth of him settle some of the chaos inside her. “I hate this.”
“I know.”
“I hate that I don’t know what’s okay to feel anymore.” Becky felt like a broken record, repeating and repeating, but she couldn’t help it. She was so messed up.
His fingers tightened around hers. “Then don’t worry about what’s okay. Just feel it.”
“That sounds dangerous.” She frowned.
“You are safe with me.” His voice was a low rumble against her.
“I know that.” She whispered touching his face. She didn’t know how to fix the mess waiting outside this room. But she knew him.
And maybe, for this minute, that was enough.