The Road to Rose Bend by Naima Simone

Author:Naima Simone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HQN Books
Published: 2021-02-22T13:16:26+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

SYDNEY GLARED AT the one-cup coffee maker as the fragrant brew poured into the waiting mug. Decaffeinated. It was a crime against God and nature. But the thought of going cold turkey had her body screaming in mutiny, so decaf it was. The sacrifices she made for this baby.

Sighing, she leaned back against the counter, the cabinet cushioning her head. God, she was tired. After a full day at the motorcycle rally, she should’ve fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. But no such luck. Her thoughts had whirled in her head long into the night, filled with instant replays of The Kiss. And also, with the audio of Cole’s confession.

You’re the first woman I’ve touched in two years.

Even now, her belly dipped, an eddying heat rushing in to fill the void. Confusion and arousal—not a good mix and detrimental to a decent night’s sleep. Why had Cole admitted that to her? Should she go to his cottage and ask him? Should she just leave it alone? Should she avoid him altogether? Logic cautioned that becoming physically and emotionally involved with a man who clearly still loved his dead wife and deeply grieved her and their son’s deaths totaled up to a mistake. And while the woman she’d been six months ago might’ve risked it, the mother-to-be she was now couldn’t. Because she didn’t only have herself to consider. She needed to be whole, settled and completely focused on her baby. And a brokenhearted mother indulging in a doomed fling didn’t constitute settled or focused.

And no matter how much her body craved him, was greedy for his brand of passion, lust didn’t transform her into an idealistic idiot. Anything between her and Cole could only end one way.

With heartbreak and pain.

The coffee machine emitted one final hiss and bubble, and the last drops plopped into her cup. First, coffee, she prioritized. Then obsessing.

Just as she lifted the mug to her lips for that first wonderful sip, a firm knock on her door reverberated through her living room and kitchen. Frowning, she peered at the clock on the wall above the stove. Who would possibly be on her doorstep at seven thirty in the morning? Setting the cup down on the counter, she crossed the small distance on bare feet. For a second, she hesitated, casting a glance down at her black tank top, which cupped her breasts and stretched over her baby bump, and the small pair of pink sleep shorts. She shrugged, continuing toward the front door. Hey, if someone was rude enough to drop by unannounced this early, then they got what they got. Which in this case was boobage, big belly and thick thighs.

She paused next to the window, pulling back the cover and peeking out to see who stood on her dime-sized porch.

“Oh shit,” she breathed. Shock gripped her in its icy fist, and she clutched the curtain, threatening to tug the rod down on her head. “Oh shit,” she repeated, just as breathless.

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