Carrying the Lost Heir's Child(85)
“I think I felt the baby move a bit ago.” She hadn’t thought about telling him, but the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.
Jake’s eyes darted to her stomach, a wide grin spread across his face. “What did it feel like?” he asked, his hand pausing in mid-stroke over her leg.
“Like someone was inside tickling me,” she explained. “It was faint. The sensations happened twice while I was sitting here watching you and Tyler.”
He brought his gaze back up to hers. “How long were you watching us?”
“Long enough to know you two have a special bond.”
“I love him,” Jake said without hesitation. “I’d do anything for him.”
Lily nodded. “Liz explained the situation. I can’t imagine being a single mom.”
The smack of reality hit her before she realized what she’d said. Jerking her legs off Jake’s lap, she came to her feet. Crossing the wide porch, she rested her hands on the white railing at the edge of the structure.
“You won’t be alone.” Jake’s hands slid around her waist seconds later. She hadn’t even heard him get up and move toward her. “I’ll never let this baby feel neglected and I’ll never let you feel like you’re doing it all by yourself. No matter what happens with us.”
Lily dropped her head between her shoulders and sighed. “There is no ‘us,’ Jake,” she whispered. “Letting you back in...I don’t know if I could survive being hurt again.”
Tears pricked her eyes behind her closed lids as his fingers splayed across her abdomen. “I’m not giving up on us, Lily,” he murmured in her ear. “And I won’t let you give up, either.”
As much as she wanted to resist him and back up her words with actions, she found herself leaning back against his chest as a tear slipped down her cheek.
“I’m not leaning on you,” she told him with a sniff. “I’m not weak and I don’t need you. I’m just tired, that’s all.”
Rubbing her stomach with gentle motions, he kissed the side of her head. “I know, baby. I know.”
Nineteen
Jake swirled the whiskey around in the glass tumbler. Staring at the amber liquid wasn’t taking the edge off, but he didn’t want to lose himself in the bottom of a bottle, either. Right now he needed a clear head, needed to process what the hell was going on with Lily.
Keeping his hands off of her the past few days had tested restraint he didn’t even know he possessed. But being with her on the porch, witnessing such raw emotions from her had nearly broken him. The damage he’d caused her was inexcusable, yet she’d leaned on him for a moment and he’d taken that as a sign of hope. At this point, he was grasping at anything she’d throw out.
She’d eaten dinner with him, Liz and Tyler and had gone to her room afterward. He hadn’t seen or heard from her all evening and it was nearly eleven. More than likely she was asleep, curled up in that four-poster bed he’d bought from an antiques dealer. The clear image of her dark hair spread all around the crisp white sheets had him clenching the glass before finally slamming it down onto his desk.
If he ever wanted a chance with her, he needed to be open about everything from his life to his emotions. He needed for her to see that he’d changed, he put her first and nothing would come between them again. He couldn’t let more time pass without telling her exactly where she stood in his life.