14. Grace
Chapter 14
Grace
I wake up alone.
For a second, I don’t know where I am. The room is unfamiliar—larger than mine, with navy walls and dark wood furniture. The sheets are soft, but they don’t smell like me. They smell like him—Kane’s scent, all masculine and warm, threaded with something dangerously addictive.
Then it hits me.
The fire. My apartment. The moment Kane pulled me against him and held me like he wasn’t going to let go.
I groan, rolling onto my back and staring at the ceiling. I hate this. Hate that I’m here, hate that I lost everything, hate that I let him see me break. Hate that I haven’t told him about the peanut inside me.
Most of all? I hate that a part of me feels safe in his house, in his arms.
With a frustrated sigh, I shove the blanket off and sit up. My body protests—sore from exhaustion, from stress—but I force myself to move. I need to get my head on straight. Figure out my next move.
Then I smell it.
Bacon. Coffee. Something buttery.
My stomach clenches hard, and I barely make it to the bathroom before I throw up.
I grip the sink, breathing heavily as the nausea lingers. Stupid morning sickness. Stupid hormones. Stupid Kane for cooking and making my body betray me.
After splashing cold water on my face and brushing my teeth with supplies I find in the drawer, I pull my hair into a messy bun and force myself downstairs. The scent of food is stronger, and my stomach lurches again in warning. I move cautiously, pausing at the bottom of the stairs when I hear his voice.
Kane’s on the phone.
“She’s staying here. I don’t give a damn what she says.” His voice is low, gruff, the kind of tone that makes men listen and women shiver. “Yeah, Hudson, I know her. She’s going to fight me on it. It doesn’t matter. She’s not going anywhere.”
I freeze, my heart pounding. Excuse me? Kane is making decisions for me now?
Oh, hell no.
I march into the kitchen, ignoring how damn domestic he looks standing at the stove, shirtless, flipping pancakes like some kind of sexy lumberjack. My eyes betray me, trailing down his bare back to the cut of his sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips.
For a moment, I forget why I’m pissed.
Then he glances up, catches sight of me, and grins—like he didn’t just declare himself my keeper.
“Gotta go, Hudson.” He ends the call and sets his phone down. “Morning, Gracie.”
I cross my arms. “You wanna tell me why you’re making decisions about my life without me?”
His brows lift. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because your place burned to the ground and some psycho is still out there?”
“I can find somewhere else to stay,” I argue .
“No, you can’t.” He flips a pancake like this isn’t the most infuriating conversation of my life. “Not happening.”
I bristle, my hands curling into fists. “I’m not your problem, Kane.”
He turns, eyes locking onto mine. “Not a problem, Gracie.”
I swallow hard. Damn him.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I say, trying to ignore the way his stare feels like a touch.
He takes a step closer, closing the space between us. I refuse to back up.
“Someone set that fire on purpose,” he says, voice softer now. “And until we know who, you’re not going anywhere.”
I shake my head. “You’re overreacting.”
His jaw tightens. “Am I? You were crying in my bed last night.”
I stiffen, my whole body flushing hot. “That—” I huff. “That was a temporary moment of weakness.”
His lips quirk. “Oh? And how long do you plan on pretending you don’t need help?”
I hate him. I hate him so much. Because he’s right.
I press my lips together, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, I change tactics.
“Why are you even still here?” I snap. “Aren’t you on shift today?”
He shrugs. “Took the day off. Didn’t want you being alone.”
That throws me off balance. For a second, I don’t know how to respond.
Then my stomach growls loudly, and Kane’s lips twitch.
I glare. “Not a word.”
He lifts his hands in surrender, then grabs a plate, sliding a stack of pancakes onto it. “Eat, Gracie.”
“I’m not hungry. ”
His brow lifts. “Really? Because five seconds ago your stomach begged me for food.”
I hate him.
But the pancakes smell good, and my stomach is rebelling against my stubbornness.
I snatch the plate, sit at the counter, and stab a pancake with more force than necessary.
Kane chuckles, leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee. His stupid, perfect body completely at ease.
And, god, I want coffee.
“You’re staying here,” he says again, voice softer this time. “End of discussion.”
I sigh, shoving a bite of food into my mouth to avoid admitting I agree.
Because deep down, I know.
I need him.
And that scares me more than anything.
I need to get out of here.
Kane’s house is too big, too warm, too... his. The scent of him lingers in the air, in the sheets of the guest room, in the oversized T-shirt he loaned me last night when all I could do was crawl into bed and let the night’s chaos finally break me.
I can’t do this. I can’t stay.
I stand in the middle of the living room, arms crossed tight over my chest as Kane leans against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee like he hasn’t just dictated the rest of my life.
“You’re staying here.” His voice is firm, edged with something that dares me to argue.
And of course, I do.
“No, I’m not.” I lift my chin, refusing to back down. “I need to find a new place.”
He takes another sip, completely unbothered. “You don’t need to do shit except stay put.”
I exhale sharply. “I’m not some lost puppy you need to take care of, Kane. I’ll figure this out.”
His dark eyes flick to mine, and for a second, the air between us hums with something unspoken. “You don’t have to do this alone, Grace.”
My stomach twists. “I want to do this alone.”
He sets his coffee down with a slow, deliberate movement. “Well, that’s too damn bad.”
Heat rises up my spine. “You don’t get to decide that.”
He crosses the room in two strides, stopping just short of invading my space. “The hell I don’t. Someone set fire to your damn building. You think I’m just going to let you wander off to some random motel, waiting for them to try again?”
“I can take care of myself.”
His jaw tightens. “You’re not invincible, Grace.”
My breath catches. “I never said I was.”
He scrubs a hand through his hair, frustration crackling in the air between us. “You’re staying here, at least until after Kate and Hudson’s wedding.”
I huff out a laugh. “So now I have a curfew? A timeline? What’s next? A leash?”
The look he gives me is deadly. “Don’t tempt me.”
My pulse kicks into overdrive. Damn him. Damn the way he always turns every argument into something charged, something that makes my skin flush and my brain short-circuit.
“This isn’t about the fire,” I snap. “You just want to control me.”
His eyes darken. “That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it, Kane?” I demand, stepping into his space now. “Why do you care so much?”
Something shifts in his gaze, something raw and unguarded. “Because you matter, Gracie. You matter to me. ”
The air leaves my lungs.
“No, I don’t.” The words come out sharper than I intend, but I need to say them. I need to remind myself. “I’m not some damsel in distress. I don’t need rescuing.”
“Jesus Christ, Grace,” he growls, his fingers raking through his hair. “Why do you always push people away?”
I stiffen, my heart pounding in my chest. I know he’s right, but admitting it was another matter. “I don’t push people away.” I lie, my voice steely.
“The hell you don’t.” He steps closer, his presence swallowing the space between us. “Every time someone gets too close, you shove them away before they have the chance to leave first. You’ve built a fortress around yourself, afraid to let anyone in.”
A spark of anger ignites inside me. “I’m not afraid,” I snap, my eyes flashing with defiance. “I just don’t need anyone.”
Kane’s lips twist into a smirk, and he leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Then why do I see the fear in your eyes, Gracie? Why do I sense the vulnerability you try so hard to hide?”
My breath hitches as his words strike a chord deep within me. I want to deny it, to push him away, but something about his intense gaze holds me captive. “I’m not afraid,” I repeat, my voice shaking slightly.
His lips curl, and it’s not amusement, not arrogance—it’s something darker, something that makes my stomach flip. His body brushes against mine. “Prove it,” he whispers, his breath tickling my ear. “Let me in, Gracie. Show me you’re not afraid.”
I open my mouth, prepared to fire back, but before I can, Kane moves and then he’s kissing me, crushing any protest I might have made. His kiss is a demand, a declaration of his intent. It is raw and fierce, a clash of tongues and teeth, as if they are waging battle of dominance .
I taste his morning coffee on his breath, the hint of mint from his toothpaste, and something primal stirring within me. My hands ball into fists, but instead of pushing him away, I find myself pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, and I open my mouth to him, meeting his passion with my own.
Kane’s hands tangle in my hair, his fingers tightening as he angles my head, taking control of the kiss. His lips are demanding, claiming, and I let him. God help me, I let him.
My fingers grip his shirt, pulling him closer, because now that I’ve had a taste, I need more. I need all of it.
A low growl vibrates in his throat, and he lifts me off the ground, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. I feel powerful and vulnerable all at once, a heady combination that sends a rush of heat between my thighs .
“I should make you beg for this,” he mutters against my throat.
A shiver runs through me, heat pooling low in my stomach. “I don’t beg.” I manage to say, my voice breathless.
He bites my earlobe, a sharp nip that has me gasping. “We’ll see.” He says as he carries me up the stairs.
We crash through the bedroom door, lips never parting. He kicks it shut behind us and presses me against it, his hips pinning me in place.
“Kane—” I moan, my hands sliding up his back, feeling the heat of his skin.
“I’m done fighting this, Grace.” His voice is rough, strained. “Tell me to stop.”
I can’t. My resistance crumbles as his mouth finds the sensitive spot below my ear, his teeth nipping at my skin. I arch my neck, granting him better access, my body betraying me. “Please,” I whisper, not even sure what I’m asking for.
Instead, my hands mapping every hard plane of muscle as his mouth finds mine again.
Kane’s hands roam over my body, his touch possessive and demanding. He tears at my shirt, exposing my breasts. His mouth claiming one taut peak, his tongue swirling, and I cry out, my head falling back against the door.
“That’s it, let me hear you,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. “I want to hear you call my name, Gracie. I want to make you lose control.”
Clothes come off in frantic, heated movements. His lips trail down my throat, my collarbone, my stomach. He drops to his knees, his hands pushing my thighs apart. My fingers dig into his shoulders, my nails leaving marks on his skin as I cling to him. I’m on fire, my body burning with need. “Please, Kane,” I plead, my voice hoarse. “I need you.”
He looks up at me, eyes burning. “I’m going to ruin you, Gracie.”
With that, he lifts me, guiding my legs around his waist, and carries me to the bed. He lays me down gently, his eyes burning with desire as he looms over me.
“You’re mine now, Gracie,” he tells me, his voice thick with want. “And I’m going to make you feel things you’ve only dreamed of.”
My heart pounds erratically as he kisses me again, his tongue delving deep, claiming my mouth as he is claiming my body. I respond eagerly, my hands roaming over his hard chest, feeling the ridges of his abs beneath my palms.
Kane’s hands move to my thighs, pushing them apart, and I willingly comply, opening myself to him. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of my panties and slowly slides them down my legs, his eyes never leaving my face.
“Beautiful,” he whispers, his gaze raking over my exposed body. “Absolutely fucking beautiful.:
I feel a surge of power as his eyes devour me, but it is quickly replaced by a wave of vulnerability as he lowers his head, his lips brushing against my inner thigh.
“Please, Kane,” I beg, my voice breaking. “Don’t tease me. ”
He looks up, his eyes dark and intense. “I’m not teasing, Gracie. I’m savoring.”
And then his mouth is on me, his tongue tracing the sensitive folds of my sex, and I cry out, my back arching off the bed. He licks and sucks, his fingers joining in, exploring, and I am lost in a sea of pleasure, my body trembling with each new sensation.
“That’s it, let go,” he encourages, his voice a low rumble. “Come for me, Gracie. Show me how much you want this.”
My orgasm builds, a coiling tension that tightens every muscle in my body. I clutch at the sheets, my head thrashing from side to side as he continues to torment me with his mouth and fingers.
“Kane!” I cry out, my body convulsing as the pleasure peaks. “Oh god, I’m coming!”
Kane continues to lap at me, drawing out my orgasm, until I’m a quivering mess, my body spent. He slowly makes his way back up my body, leaving a trail of kisses, and hovers over me, his eyes searching mine.
“Now,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “Please, now.”
Kane’s eyes darken further, and he positions himself at my entrance, his cock throbbing against my slick folds. “You’re sure?” he asks, his voice gruff.
I nod, my hands gripping his shoulders. “Now, Kane. Please.”
With a growl, he thrusts into me, filling me in one deep stroke. I cry out, my body welcoming the invasion, my inner walls clenching around him.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts, his hips moving in a slow, torturous rhythm. “So fucking tight and wet.”
My nails dig deeper into his back as he withdraws and thrusts again, each stroke hitting that sweet spot deep within me. I move my hips to meet him, my body craving more with the need to be filled.
“Yes, Kane,” I pant, my eyes locked with his. “Harder. Please, harder.”
Kane complies, his thrusts becoming more urgent, his control slipping as he pounds into me. He leans down, capturing my mouth in a fierce kiss, our tongues tangling as our bodies move in perfect sync.
“You feel so good, Gracie,” he groans between kisses. “So fucking good, I can’t?—"
His words cut off as my body tightens around him, my orgasm building again, faster this time. I bite his shoulder to muffle my cry as I come, my inner walls pulsating around him.
Kane’s own release is swift and intense. He thrusts once, twice more, and then tilts, his body shaking as he spills himself deep inside me.
We lay here, entangled in each other’s arms, our hearts pounding in unison. Kane’s forehead rests against mine, his breath warm on my skin.
“That was…” I begin, my voice soft.
“Incredible,” Kane finishes for me, his lips curving into a satisfied smile. “But we’re not done yet, Gracie. Not by a long shot. You’re mine.”
For a long moment, there’s only the sound of our breathing.
Then reality slams back into place and I freeze.
Kane shifts, lifting himself onto his elbows, his dark eyes searching mine.
And I do what I always do. I push away.
Sliding out from beneath him, I grab the sheet, wrapping it around me as I sit on the edge of the bed. My body is still thrumming from the aftershocks, but my mind? My mind is a fucking disaster.
Kane watches me, his expression unreadable. “Grace?—”
“This was a mistake,” I whisper.
His jaw ticks. “Bullshit. ”
I shake my head. “This can’t happen again.”
He pushes up, sitting beside me, his voice quiet but firm. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
I swallow hard, gripping the sheet tighter. I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing myself to remember why this is a mistake. Forcing myself to remember that I’m pregnant.
With his baby.
And he doesn’t know.
I jerk out of his grip, ignoring the flash of confusion in his eyes as I get out of bed.
“Where are you going?” Kane asks, his voice still thick with satisfaction.
I avoid his gaze as I gather my clothes, my hands shaking. “Back to the guest room.”
A muscle jumps in his jaw. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I do.” I force myself to look at him, forcing steel into my voice. “This was a mistake.”
Something dark flickers across his face, something that looks a lot like anger. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”
I swallow hard. “This doesn’t change anything.”
His eyes burn into mine, searching for something I refuse to give him.
After a long, excruciating pause, he exhales sharply and stands up, his gaze never leaving mine. “You always do this, don’t you?” His voice is quieter now, almost resigned. “Push people away before they can get too close.”
I clutch the sheet tighter around me, my nails digging into the fabric.
He’s right, but I don’t say that. Instead, I straighten my spine, lift my chin, and lie. “There is no ‘too close,’ Kane,” I say, my voice colder than I feel.
His jaw tightens, his expression going unreadable. “If you say so, Gracie.”
I force myself to turn away before he can see the lie for what it is. Before he can see the guilt eating me alive. Before he can see just how badly I wish I could let him in.
I don’t stop moving until I reach the guest room, closing the door behind me with a quiet click.
Then I press my back against it, slide to the floor, and drop my head into my hands. Because the truth is staring me in the face. I want Kane. I want him in a way that terrifies me, and I’m carrying his baby. But the moment I tell him… everything changes.
And I don’t know if I can handle that.