Chapter 26

GRACE

Two Months Later

Ilove the way he looks at me when we fuck, there's never any distraction. In these moments, he belongs completely to me, and I like how it feels.

“You sure I’m not crushing you?” he asks between thrusts, holding all his weight off my body and looking at the swollen belly that's between us.

“We’re fine, don’t stop.” I drag him down by his neck so I can kiss him, and when I feel my body start to spasm, I smile against his lips.

“Fuck, yes…Harder, Jack.” I smash my hips against his, clawing his back as I come for him again, and he growls into my mouth as he picks up the pace and finishes with me.

“You are insatiable,” he tells me, sounding out of breath as he sits up on his knees and rests his hands on top of mine.

“And it’s all your fault.” I stroke my hand over my ever-growing bump to remind him why.

“You know what that does to me,” he snarls, dipping his head, biting the inside of my thigh, and making me giggle like I haven’t got a care in the world. It’s easy to forget the world outside when you're living in Jack Ravenshaw's perfect little bubble.

“You sure he’s alright in there?” he checks, resting beside me and laying his palm flat to my stomach.

“It is fine, I can feel it wriggling around. Must be all those endorphins. I told you sex was good for the baby.”

“I wish I could feel it, too.” He slides his hand to a new position, in the hope of getting some movement from the outside.

“It’s just flutters,” I explain, placing my hand over his and finding it highly amusing that the baby is moving right now and he doesn’t even know it.

“Gracie.” He props himself up on his elbow, and I can tell from the look on his face that he’s going to tell me something I won’t like.

“If you have accepted the invite to Elizabeth’s garden party, you are going alone,” I warn him.

“It’s not that. I wanted to ask you something.” He focuses on his finger as it draws circles around my belly button to avoid looking at me.

“Okay.” I frown, wondering what he could want.

“I want you to move your things in here. I want you to sleep beside me so that in the night I don’t miss these kinds of things.”

“Jack, we talked about this,” I sigh.

“I know we did, and I want to re-negotiate. We spend half our time in bed together anyway; what difference does the fact that we’re sleeping make?”

“I’m sorry, Jack, I can’t. I need my own space. I promise, if I feel something strong enough for you to feel it too, I’ll come in and wake you straight up.” I shift up the bed, so I’m sitting up.

“What are you scared of, Gracie?” Jack asks, softening his tone.

“I’m not scared of anything when it comes to you. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He lies his back on the pillow and, although he doesn’t say anything, I can tell he’s pissed off with me.

“Is this your mum?” I pick up the photo frame next to his bed, trying to change the subject.

“Yeah,” he answers shortly, staring at the ceiling and looking wounded.

“She’s pretty.”

“She died ten years ago,” he snaps

“I’m sorry. How did she di—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Snatching the picture from my hand, he reaches over me and slams it back on the bedside table. “I’m taking a shower; I assume you’ll have left by the time I get out.” He gets up.

“Jack…I–”

“Goodnight, Gracie.” He kisses the top of my head, then my stomach, before heading into his ensuite, slamming the door behind him.

I lie in his bed, clutching at his covers as I bring them to my nose and inhale them.

Does he think I don’t feel the same pain as him?

Does he not understand that I crave the comfort of sleeping beside him, every bit as much as he does?

I’m just trying to make all this easier.

Getting up, I grab my robe from the floor, tying it around my waist and heading back to my room for another lonely night.

“You’re up early.” Jack looks surprised to see me when he enters the dining room.

“Your little one was hungry.” I smile, hoping he’s in a better mood than he was last night.

“I was waiting for my wake-up call; you usually have needs in the morning.” He kisses my cheek and rubs his hand over my stomach before sitting at the table.

“Yes, well, this morning my need for food was much greater; baby must be having a growth spurt.” I have noticed a huge difference in the size of my bump since last week; it’s unmistakable that I’m pregnant now.

“Then your needs shall be catered for. What did you order?” he asks with a smile.

“Pancakes… to start with,” I smirk as I take the juice he pours for me.

“That's what I like to hear…Now, about this garden party….”

“How did your mum die, Jack?” I blurt out the question that's been going round and round in my head all night.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He instantly goes rigid on me again.

“I get that, but maybe it would help if you di—”

“How did your mum die, Gracie?” he snaps back at me sarcastically, trying to deflect.

“She overdosed, and I found her. She was still alive, choking on her own vomit when I got home from school. I called an ambulance, rode with her to the hospital, and I watched her crash two times on the way to the hospital.” I watch instant regret turn his face pale.

“The paramedics managed to get her back. When we got to the hospital, all these people just swarmed around her, all trying to save her. I got pushed to the side, I watched them take her away from me…and they never brought her back.” My eyes go blurry, but I refuse to cry.

“Shit, Gracie, I'm sorry.” Jack grabs my hand. “That's why you hate hospitals.” The penny drops for him, and I nod.

“That was the worst day of my life. I don’t like talking about it because it makes me feel so helpless and weak, but I just shared it with you anyway,” I point out, just as the door opens and Kelly delivers my pancakes.

“Morning, sir.” She smiles at Jack while I wipe my eyes and put on a brave smile of my own. “Would you like your usual?” she asks him.

“Yes, please.” He nods, looking at me intensely as I pick up my fork and start eating. Kelly leaves, and an awkward silence fills the room in her absence.

“You're not weak, you're the strongest person I’ve ever met. Never let anyone tell you any different.” He picks up his glass and takes a sip, and even though there is so much I want to say, I stay quiet. I eat my pancakes, and I wish that he’d open up to me.

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