A Baby Affair (Parent Portal 2)

He must think her an idiot. Or know that she was struggling. He had that peculiar ability to get into her head; he seemed to know her intimately.

No. She was making a mountain out of a molehill. And thinking in clichés now.

She had to stop this, all the internal fighting. She was a woman who took charge and maintained control. She knew better than to let her emotions play with her.

They’d lose. And she’d have to live with the mess they created. Clean it up. Take on more regret.

“You want to have a seat?” Craig was back, handing her a glass, and indicating the lovely patio, the wrought iron furniture boasting comfy-looking cushions.

She shook her head. Took a couple of steps farther into the yard. Talley came out and then went back inside.

“What’s wrong?” Craig stood in front of her, his bottle of juice mostly empty. She’d barely sipped from hers, afraid it would choke her.

“Hormones,” she told him. “It’s all just hormones. I’m sorry. I’m not myself. We should probably go.”

Instead of sending him heading for the gate, he stood unmoving, his brow furrowing with concern. Those eyes...how did fixtures in his face manage to convey such depth? And his hair—that wayward curl that hung just below his ear on the left side of his head. It was always there, just hanging out. Tempting her to touch it...

“What’s wrong?” he asked again.

The truth? Isabella had moved and she’d wanted to call and tell him. Or text at least. And wanting that was bad. Wanting everything else—a man, a family together—was even worse.

He was a doctor. He’d know about these things.

Normal. She was normal. He’d understand.

“I’m just...” She took a sip from her bottle, relief flooding through her. “I’ve got the temporary hots for you,” she said with a chuckle. Inviting him to chuckle along with her. “I know it’s just hormones, but...how long does it last? Do you know?”

He wasn’t chuckling. Or even grinning. He was staring at her, gaze intent. What...was he operating on her from the inside out now?

She wanted to look away. To move away. To drop her bottle of juice and run. She stood there, toe-to-toe with him, letting him do whatever he was doing: holding her captive with a look in his eye. And when his face moved, she lifted hers, still holding on to his gaze, watching him come closer.

His lips on hers was a foregone conclusion. She’d watched them approach. Read the intent in his eyes. She allowed the touch. Not pulling away as she had the first time their lips had touched.

Opening her mouth to him, she suckled hungrily. His arms came around her, pulling her fully up against his body. Her hands reached up to his neck, one still holding her juice as she clutched him like that, bottle dangling there, tasting fruit on his tongue. It was so good. He was so good.

The kiss was better than she’d imagined. His lips were gentle and masterful at the same time. Just like the man she’d come to know. Every part of her body trembled with wanting him. Wanting more. Her pelvis ached, pressing into him—and found his rock solid...paws landed on her shoulder before sliding between Amelia’s upper arm and Craig’s.

Because there would always be barriers between them.

The truth dawned suddenly on her. Amelia backed away.

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry,” she said, horrified with herself. How could she have...yeah, he’d been the first one to make a move, but she’d practically undressed right there in front of him, telling him what she needed. “I have to go...” She turned, hurrying toward the gate.

“Amelia.” Craig caught up with her, stayed beside her as she continued forward, bu

t didn’t attempt to stop her. Didn’t touch her. “It’s okay,” he said, but she knew it wasn’t.

“And it most definitely wasn’t your fault.”

But it was. She was being selfish and maybe even cruel, inviting him to start something that she knew had nowhere to go.

She shook her head. Couldn’t listen to him. Couldn’t stay there. She had to get to her bike. His ex-lover’s bike. The woman who’d originally owned and lived in this home with him. The home he intended to share with a wife and family. A home that made her feel trapped and afraid.

She had to get back to her car.

Because if she didn’t, she knew she’d give in to fickle emotions and beg to stay.

Chapter Sixteen