“It was. I told you, you’ve got a lot of people rooting for you. Heck, even the Saxons showed up. What did they give you, anyway?”
Here was her opening. Cordy didn’t want to take it. “They gave me Reed’s christening gown. Mrs. Saxon is going to help me plan that. I think it means a lot to her.”
“Yeah, probably. They’re regular churchgoers.” He didn’t seem to notice her unease.
She wet her lips. “They told me that Reed’s house is empty. And that I can move in.”
As soon as the words came out, the truck got very, very quiet. Chance’s throat worked in a hard, choking swallow.
“I forgot he had a house.”
“I never knew.” Cordy made herself laugh at her silliness. “We always met at my place.”
“Of course.” Something dark and ugly vibrated under the words.
Cordy didn’t understand. He’d never been weird about her relationship with Reed before.
“Technically, it will go to the baby.” She put her hands on her belly. “But the Saxons are happy to let me use it. Mrs. Saxon wants the baby to grow up in Reed’s house.”
“Is that whatyouwant?” He’d brought his tone up to something closer to normal.
“It’s the perfect solution.” Cordy wouldn’t look at him; she didn’t want to see any relief on his face. “I can move once the baby is born, like we talked about. It was nice of you to give me and Iggy a place to stay, but we need to get out of your hair.”
He was silent for so long, Cordy had to sneak a glance at him. Chance looked like he had no idea what to say. Like he’d totally forgotten how to speak. What could possibly be going through his head?
“Right,” he said finally. His mouth quirked in his familiar grin. “It wasn’t so bad having you around. But I’d be a terrible influence on a baby.”
That wasn’t what she’d meant, but she left it alone.
When they got home—no, she had to stop thinking of his place that way—they unloaded the leftovers into the fridge and piled the presents into the nursery. Cordy resolved to sort through it tomorrow. And somehow, without speaking, they ended up together in the kitchen.
“You want anything to eat?” Chance asked as he opened a beer.
“God, no.” Cordy leaned against the counter, her hips pinging with aches. “I ate too much at the party. All I want now is to get this baby out.” She let her head fall back, trying to work out the kinks in her shoulders. “The doctor said sex should help.”
Cordy froze. It had started as a joke, an invitation for him to laugh because sexwasfunny, but once it was out, it sounded like an entirely different kind of invitation.
“What?” That was a throaty growl. “We’ve been having sex.”
She met his gaze. His expression was so wolfish, so hungry, she couldn’t breathe.
“You’ve been getting me off,” she corrected. “I’m talking about you coming inside me.”
His fists clenched at his sides. She waited for him to give his old excuses—I’m no good for you; I can’t bring you into my mess.Cordy didn’t believe those anymore, but she couldn’t talkhimout of believing them.
“Is that what you want?”
Her surprise had her taking half a step back. Was that whathewanted?
Well, yes, he clearly did—a glance at his straining cock proved that—but he was also excellent at denial.
But did Chance want to punish himself more than he wanted her? That was the real question.
Cordy ran her hands over her belly. Her pregnancy was the excuse for all this—Chance helping her, offering her a place tostay, even what he was offering now—but she wanted them to be beyond that.
“I want to touch you,” she said. “Your skin on mine.”
“I want that too.” His voice had never been so raw. Chance’s hands went to his shirt buttons, stripping them through the holes almost too fast to see.
