Chapter 14 #2
My irritation only seems to amuse him, and that frustrates me even more. Why does he never take anything seriously? “I mean, why not? I think it’s possible. You’re growing on me, Bishop. Falling in love with you doesn’t seem like an impossible feat.”
His words nearly stump me, but I know that’s his intention. “You’re crazy, Jameson King, and I regret ever falling into bed with you.”
He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound I feel between my legs. “Regret is such a strong word, Moonshine. I seem to recall your rather enthusiastic participation.”
“It was the alcohol,” I answer, retreating until my back hits a wall.
In three long strides he reaches me, his hands perched on the wall on either side of my head as he leans into me. “No, I don’t believe you, Monroe Bishop,” he says coyly, as his gaze falls to my heaving chest. “I can’t wait to prove you wrong the next time you fall back into bed with me.”
I swallow back my indignation, and meet him with an equally teasing smirk.
Jase has forgotten who I am, and apparently, so have I.
I am a confident, stubborn woman. One who won’t be easily won by a pretty face who thinks sweet talking is the way into my pants.
Even if he has the hardware to go along with it. “Only in your dreams, King.”
That was the wrong thing to say, because his easy-going nature has all but disappeared, and in its place is a look of pure seduction and temptation. Blue eyes dark with desire burn into mine, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth like he’s forcing himself to hold back.
“Only if you beg, Bishop.”
The sky grew darker, a beautiful backdrop of blue, purple and orange in the distance, accompanied by the echo of crickets chirping in the fields, and the rustling of trees in the wind.
The King Ranch is an incredible piece of land, unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and now, it’s supposed to feel like home.
Staring out the full-length window of the dining room, I take in the beautiful scenery before me as a gust of wind blows open the kitchen window. It startles me, and I quickly turn to shut it before getting back to the task at hand. Chicken and dumpling soup.
I’m finally over the morning sickness phase, but I’m fighting a cold, and since any medication is prohibited, this is sure to bring me back to life.
I inhale the delicious aroma of onions and garlic sautéing in the stock pot as I chop up some celery and carrots.
I toss them in and give it a little stir.
My stomach growls when I add in some cream, oregano, dill, salt and pepper, followed by two cups of chicken broth before bringing it to a boil.
I’m shredding up some leftover chicken when I feel Jase come up behind me. I thought he’d left shortly after our conversation this morning.
“I can get used to this,” he jokes, hovering over my shoulder to look at the soup that’s boiling.
I toss the chicken in and give it another stir before opening the container of biscuits. I prefer homemade, but it’s nearly eight in the evening, and I don't have the time or energy to bake my own. These will have to do.
“I wasn’t expecting you home so soon,” I say, ignoring his ridiculous comment but nearly spilling all the biscuits when they pop out of the can.
He chuckles, ignoring me as he steps closer.
“I never left,” he whispers against my neck as he shifts my hair over my shoulder to one side.
“You know, I never expected us to be in this position, but being here with you, admiring the view of my property, and not driving myself crazy working and coming home late, I can’t imagine things being any different. ”
So he didn’t go to the bar like I’d assumed. Not that I’d know since I spent the day in bed.
“Yeah, well, I’m feeling the exact opposite. I haven’t been able to focus on work for weeks. It’s been over two weeks since I stepped foot in my office.” Not to mention, I haven’t had the urge to work on designing anything since we finished the remodel of my brother’s ranch.
I roll the biscuits into a circular shape and slowly drop them into the boiling soup before closing the lid and allowing it to simmer for the next twenty minutes.
“I can build you a space to work here, Monroe. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of that.”
I turn to look at him over my shoulder, staring at him like he’s lost his mind. “No, it’ll be nice to head back to my brother’s house and work from there. I’m getting a bit of cabin fever from not leaving the house often.”
Suddenly, his expression shifts, and I notice he’s acting hesitant. “Why haven’t you?” he asks. “Not that I mind coming home to you every day, especially cooking dinner.”
His hand slides over my lower back until it’s creeping between the kitchen counter and my waist. Warm, smooth fingers linger on my stomach, rubbing gentle circles around like he’s trying to communicate with his touch something he can’t quite find the words to say.
With my knife hovering over the cutting board, my heart suddenly pounds in my ears as I feel the heat from his chest against my back. This is the closest we’ve been since our kiss, and I’m completely immobile, unable to push him away. Not when I really want to pull him in closer.
“This is a bad idea,” I mutter under my breath, tilting my head back slowly. My voice is thick with desire, and I know he can feel the way I’ve loosened up in his embrace.
“You keep saying that, Moonshine, yet I don't see how.” His hot breath tickles my neck and a warm and wet mouth presses softly against me, his tongue licking and teeth nipping my sensitive skin.
He’s right. I keep saying these things and doing the complete opposite, but he disarms me in a way no one else ever has. I’m unable to think straight when I have him so close to me.
I’ve had three boyfriends in my entire life.
The first hardly counts. Just some guy I sort of dated my senior year and lost my virginity to right before I left for college, and I didn’t want to leave a virgin.
The second was a friend of a friend with whom I went on a couple of dates.
We had a class together, and he was a design major like me.
I’d gone over to his place to study, and one thing led to another.
We kept it that way until the end of the semester, and then I never called him again.
The third was the most serious of the three.
I’d dated my ex-boyfriend Josh, on and off, for about three years.
No one but Billie and Bailey knew about him.
He also went to UNC, a music major and an aspiring rockstar.
He was fine with keeping things casual and seeing each other only at school.
He was busy on the weekends touring with his band, and taking on any gig that came their way.
Eventually, I graduated, and he dropped out to pursue his music career full time.
I’d heard he'd actually made a record and had gone on tour in Canada, of all places. That was over four years ago. There’s really been no one else since. Not more than a casual hookup here and there. My one-night stand with Jase wasn't my first, only the one that came with a little extra baggage.
Though none had ever made me feel the way I did with Jase.
So, how do I admit I’m so reluctant to start anything with him because I’m still utterly terrified of him and what could become of us?
That I haven't left the house other than to hang out with my friends at their apartment or the safety of Bailey’s bar for fear of running into anyone in town who is going to agree with how Jase and I are not meant for one another?
Specifically, because of how scared I am to hear another person gossip about how I tricked Jameson King into getting me pregnant so I could take him for all he has.
He lets out a groan, a low raspy sound so deep my entire body sizzles with awareness. It’s as if he cannot stop himself from touching me further.
“Jase,” I moan, as I press my ass to his groin, feeling his hardened erection pushing against me. I’m instantly aroused, my pussy tightening as if begging for him. God, I hate these pregnancy hormones that get me so ready in a matter of seconds.
How do pregnant women get anything done?
“Baby, just think about how fucking good this will feel.” His hand creeps lower, his fingers toying with the drawstring of my pajama bottoms, and I want nothing more than to let him tug them undone.
To dip his finger underneath the fabric and touch me, sliding his fingers through the arousal already building between my legs.
When the reality of it all hits me like a splash of cold water, I set the knife down before turning around to face him.
Oh, but what a mistake that was. The look of desire in his eyes has me leaning toward him, though as he lowers his head, his lips grazing mine, we hear a car coming up our driveway.
We both turn and look out toward the large windows, though where I’m confused as to who it is, I feel Jase stiffen behind me.
With no explanation, he releases me, heading straight toward the front door, his silhouette filling the doorway as he steps outside.
The screen door slams shut behind him, but I head toward it, knowing I shouldn’t be eavesdropping but doing so anyway.
“Indy?” he asks the woman who looks like she just stepped off a movie set.
Her high heels click along the gravel as she heads towards us, and her light blue sundress flutters in the breeze. She wraps the ivory knit cardigan around her body as a breeze flows through her hair and heads straight toward Jase, who's rushing down the steps.
“Jase, it’s so good to see you again,” she shouts as she wraps her arms around his middle. Jase stands like a deer in headlights, arms outstretched like he doesn't know what to do until he carefully wraps them around her too.
My heart jumps in my chest at the sight of them, and I immediately recognize the woman cradled in his arms. Indigo Harper, his ex-girlfriend. The same girl he had wanted to make jealous the day he kissed me.
Well shit. It looks like we’ve come full circle.
Jase doesn’t smile, his eyes flicking up to look at mine as he keeps his arms around her. My chest tightens, making it harder to breathe as I look at the two of them, feeling like I’m intruding on some intimate moment and not vice versa.
Something inside me cracks. This here is a rude awakening, a moment of understanding that what I was about to let happen between Jase and me was a mistake.
I let him touch me. Let his fingers graze my skin as his mouth hovered closer to mine.
He was about to kiss me again, and worse, I wanted him to this time.
Indigo showing up now is exactly what we both need to realize this thing between us will never work.
I’m living in a borrowed space with a man who doesn’t love me.
Even if I’m carrying his baby. A baby he never planned for.
Now the woman he loved, or loves if the way his arms hold her close are any sign of lingering feelings, is back.
Just when we agree to make things work for the sake of our little bear, he suggests the preposterous idea of acting like we’re in a relationship in order to appease his mother. Now, his ex-girlfriend shows up. Well, if that isn’t a fucking sign.