Chapter 37 #2
He makes a small noise as if to say “sure” and turns to pick up a phone that sits behind him.
A bead of sweat slides down the back of my neck as I watch his fingers punch in numbers slower than a glacier for a handful of seconds, before deciding to hell with it. Turning on my heel, I make a dash for the turnstiles.
“Miss, what are you—”
Ignoring the surprised cry from the guard, I wedge a hand on top of the chrome barrier and launch my legs over it sideways.
One of the elevators to the right is about to close, with one solitary man standing inside watching the whole debacle with a raised brow.
As soon as my feet hit the marble, I peel off in his direction, sliding in just as the doors hiss shut.
He stares at me in shock as I bend over, bracing my hands against my knees and panting like a dog.
The elevator begins to move, and I blow out a long, shaky breath, punching the button for the top floor.
I was so desperate to get here quickly, I left my purse in the car, so I have no idea how much time has passed.
“Nice day for it,” I manage to huff out as the man continues to stare.
Apparently deciding against talking to the half-crazed lady that just hijacked his elevator—can’t say I blame him—he stays silent until we reach his floor.
When the doors hiss shut again behind him, my anxiety cranks into high gear.
“Come on,” I mutter, watching the little screen at the top of the doors flick through floor numbers as it rises again.
I feel like I’m on an episode of Crystal Maze, except instead of throwing away a chance to win a few thousand in cash, the stakes are so much higher. If I know my brother, he will never forgive himself. A shiver runs down my spine.
I feel like I could cry when the doors finally hiss open on the top floor and Jacob comes into view behind the expansive white desk beside Zeke’s office. “Chloe.” He blinks in surprise, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Is he alone in there?” I ask, already halfway across the gilded Italian marble foyer.
“Yeah, but he has a meeting in ten minutes. Want me to—”
As soon as I find out what I need to hear, I throw open the door to Zeke’s office and barrel in.
I spot him immediately, just as he turns.
Words die on my lips as I look at him standing there, his broad shoulders filling out his white shirt that is rolled to the sleeves, the top two buttons undone.
His hands are planted squarely in his pockets and his face is wearing a faint mask of surprise.
I drink in every chiseled edge, every carved piece of beauty from his straight nose to his full lips with a scar that now holds a whole new meaning.
Beautiful. Mine. Slamming the door shut, I force my leaden feet forward.
“Zeke, Logan told me everything. You can’t tell Miguel. I’m so sorry I asked you to, if I had known…” My stuttered words catch in my throat as he begins to move, his long strides eating up the space between us. “Oh Zeke, I’m so sorry. I should have let you speak, I was just so angry.”
His long arms wrap around my waist and I fall into his embrace, my hands sliding up the front of his warm chest to clutch at his collar as tears roll over in shuddering sobs.
Masculine pine and citrus musk fill my nostrils.
His chocolate gaze locks with mine, glistening with the lights of a thousand emotions.
Without saying a word, he crushes his lips down to mine.
I moan into his mouth, my hands snaking up to bury into his hair as I try and pour all of my emotions into the kiss.
To tell him what I’m too frantic to say with words.
A little voice tells me that there is something I do have to say. Something he deserves to know. Pulling back, I place one hand on his stubble-covered jaw.
“I— I know the timing of this sucks and I should have told you, but I only just found out myself and everything was so messy… I’m…I’m pregnant, Zeke.” He freezes and shock flares in the depths of his mahogany gaze. His lips fall open, and I’m sure he’s about to speak but he snaps them shut again.
“Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you angry at me? Please don’t be angry, I think it must have been the antibiotics that fucked with my pill. I swear I didn’t plan this, I— Say something!” Annoyance burns into life quicker than I can process. Why the fuck is he just staring at me?
The corner of his lips tugs like he’s trying to withhold a smile before he clears his throat slowly. “You told me to shut up and listen, so that’s what I’m doing.”
I stutter out a stunned laugh. “That doesn’t apply now!” I whine, slapping his chest.
His eyes sparkle and dance as his face splits into a grin so bright my knees buckle. Warmth floods his gaze, heating me from the inside as one large, rough hand reaches up to cup the side of my neck, his thumb brushing against my ear.
“You’re not mad?” I whisper, fresh tears rolling down my face.
“Mi amor, you’ve just made me the happiest man on earth. Of course I’m not mad.” He beams, gazing at me like I hung the damn moon.
I let out a small moan of relief, which promptly turns into a strangled sob.
More tears fall and before I realize what’s happening, I’m crying hysterically into the front of his shirt.
The kind where you can’t suck in a breath and every few seconds is punctuated by a spasm of your ribs.
A deep, rumbling chuckle vibrates through his chest and gentle hands pry my face away.
He cradles my cheeks in his palms, grinning down at me. I’m sure I’m a blotchy mess of tears and snot right now, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“Chloe Devlin, this is not hot girl behavior.” He grins, quirking one brow.
He gives me a second for his words to sink in, the weight of his familiar gaze acting as a balm to my hysteria.
I let out a small disbelieving giggle, my heart flip-flopping in my chest as overwhelming love for this man flows into every inch of my body.
“Do you know what, Zeke Guerra?” I sniff, shaking my head with a small smile. “You’re so right.”
He laughs and then suddenly his brows knit together, and he lets out a long, tortured groan. “Oh god, if it’s a girl, I’m so fucking screwed.”