Chained: A Bad Boy Romance (14 page)

His touch gives me chills, those hands are delicate against my skin. He knows just how to use them.

“What time do you get off work?” I asked.

He shifted his weight to one side. “I'm supposed to be here till six. Why? You too excited to wait?”

In a way, I am,
I thought to myself. Playing with the key ring in my hand, I avoided his question. “I'll call you later and tell you where to meet me for dinner.”

“You'll tell
me
where to meet
you?
” Chuckling, he let his eyebrows crawl high up his forehead. “That's not how this works.”

I started to head for the door, tossing him a coy glance. “It is if you want to have dinner with me.”

Owen moved quick, blocking my path. From his pocket, he tugged out a shiny, black cell phone. “Hey, don't you need my number to call me?”

Flushing, I searched my purse.
Duh. Where is my mind at?
“Right, okay. Give me yours and I'll text you after.”

“How do I know you won't vanish again?”

“I didn't vanish,” I said quickly. “I never meant...” I trailed off.

Owen eyed me, curious. “Never meant to what?”

“To miss your hearing,” I finished quietly.

He stood there for a long while, his face expressionless. Then, he waved his phone. “Put my number in yours. I'll trust you to call me later for our date.”

Relieved that he was dropping the issue, I started to type his number into my phone as he spoke it. “Okay, I'll see you later.”

Owen flashed his tell-tale smirk. “One way or another, yeah. You will.”

He really won't let me out of our date, will he?
That fact made my heart swell. His determination was unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

On the way to my car, I peeked back over my shoulder. Owen stood watching me, his body resting against the wood frame. The heat in his eyes boiled, threatening to scald me if I stared too long.

As I drove off, his shape faded in the rear view mirror as the building blended into the trees behind me. The quiet of my car was disrupted by thoughts of concern.

How the hell did all this happen? I'm about to go on a date with Owen.

A convicted murderer.

A murderer that I've now slept with, gotten knocked up by, and then let him eat me out in a filthy garage.

Who the hell was I becoming?

Despite all my fears, a feeling of anticipation grew bigger. Owen made my body burn for him, melt with every stroke of his fingers. When we were in the same room, the atmosphere felt charged with his presence.

Could I just ignore all that? Refuse to acknowledge the sheer power between us?

The cold fact was that a baby had been placed in the middle of two people who'd lost their inhibitions and were taken over by lust.
Is that what I feel? Is this just surface level sex?

It can't be, I've never felt like this before.

This is so much stronger.

Once home, I paced back and forth between my bed and the dresser, one hand resting on my stomach. The few outfits I still felt comfortable wearing were laid across the mattress.

Oh my god, I'm so nervous! What am I supposed to wear to this?

I picked up the one black dress I owned, my feet stopped in front of the mirror to hold it up.
I hope this camouflages my stomach.
The coldness of the silver glass brushed the tip of my nose as I leaned closer.

My eyes lowered to look at my belly. “What do you think?” I whispered to the growing life inside of me.

Biscuit appeared in the corner of my eye, tongue swaying back and forth. “Come on up.” I clicked my fingers together as I plopped onto the bed.

The latch of the front door clicked, the walls shaking as someone entered the apartment. “Charlie? I've got great news!” Sara yelled.

I should talk to Sara. Tell her everything. I can't hide this secret anymore.

“I'm in here!” I tried to wipe the worry from my face. I didn't know how to even begin this conversation with her, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to.

Should I tell him first, before anyone else?

“Hey, guess what?” Her voice was full of excitement. She threw my door open and danced into the room.

I forced a curious look, but my thoughts were lost in the turmoil I faced. “What is it?” I asked, sounding more dull than I meant.

“There may be a position opening up at my office. I put your name in for it. Isn't that great?” Her smile was strong, hands curling up as she shook them excitedly side to side.

I tried to show some sign of excitement. “That's, that's good.” Desperately, I wanted to pull myself together.

She moved her eyes to the clothes laid out on my bed. “Ooh, does someone have plans for the evening?”

I shook my head yes, unable to speak.

“I just told you I most likely got you a job, and it looks to me like you're getting ready for a hot night on the town, so why are you acting like someone died?
What
is going on?” she asked as she sat down next to me.

I inhaled a rush of air. “Sara, you don't understand. I'm going out with that guy I mentioned to you before.”

Her hands fell to her lap. “And? Why is that such a bad thing?”

Here it is. This is my opening.
If I didn't speak now, I might never tell her. Not until the baby was here, anyway.

My eyes rose to focus on Sara. Licking my lips, I wished I had some water. My tongue was so thick and heavy, I was sure no words would come out. In spite of this, I found myself talking—before I was even ready. “I'm pregnant.”

“Oh my god.” She stood and leaned against the bedroom wall, her hands clasping over her mouth as she inhaled a gulp of air. “Wow, you're pregnant!
Pregnant!
Whose baby is it?” I could hear the gossiper inside of her shining. My eyes shot her a glance, and immediately she understood. “It's
his?
The guy you crushed on at the prison?”

“Yeah, I haven't slept with anyone else.” The magnitude of the situation made my body numb.

“How far along are you?” The normal brightness of her eyes disappeared. Concern had turned her skin ashen.

This is crazy! I can't even think straight.
My eyes stared blankly into Sara's, I had no answer.

Her body lowered against the wall until she squatted across from me, her chin resting on her fists.  “
Charlie
, what are you going to do?”

My mouth hung open, unsure of what to say.
What can I even do?
I fretted.
Telling Owen opens so many doors, but they could all lead to destruction.

Ignoring him means risking being a mom all alone.

How can I fix this?

What the hell can I do to make this all better?

I don't... I...

“Charlie!” Sara waved her hand in front of my face, pulling me from my thoughts. “Have you told him yet?”

I shook my head no. “I don't know if I want to.”

“Why would you not?” Anger and worry filled her voice. “You have to,” she said.

“I don't know if he's father material. His past isn't the smoothest, he's had a few bumps along the way. I need to think about the baby, too. What if I have this baby and he just walks out one day?” I still wasn't ready to tell her who 'He' actually was.

How do I tell this baby one day that their father is a killer, if I can't even tell Sara it's Owen's child?

“That's not up to you, Charlie. That's up to him. What he decides to do with this whole thing is on him. But you need to give him that chance. It's only right.” She brought her arms up and crossed them over her chest. “Unless you're planning on a different option.”

My eyes narrowed. “No. I could never.”

“And you could never judge someone based on their past. I
know
you. Give him that chance. There was obviously something you liked about him.” 

When the words found their way in, it was the first bit of clarity I had felt in a while. A surge of excitement filled where panic had rested. My hand settled onto my stomach.
She's right, he deserves to know.

I'm having Owen's baby.

I needed to give him that chance, the opportunity to be involved. I couldn't run from him, hiding from what fears lied within myself. It would be selfish to just out right deny this baby a father.

“Charlie, I'm not going to judge you. Regardless of your decision, you'll do what ends up being right,” she said, laying her hand on my shoulder to comfort me.

A smile broke across my face. “Thanks, I need to finish getting ready.”

Letting me go, Sara grabbed something off the bed. “One more thing.” The black dress was tossed at me, covering my face and blinding me. “Wear this. You always looked good in black.”

Minutes later I sat in the tub, the water hot against my skin. A bath always soothed my nerves.

I moved my hands through the water, parting the bubbles. Pieces of my blushed flesh shined under the lights. My head rested against the cool porcelain, a clear image of Owen's face fixed in my mind.

He's deeper than most people would guess. I doubt anyone gives him a chance to show that side of him.

He'd been closed off from the start, yet, with time, he'd taken down fragments of his walls for me.

Owen was a man with a hard past...

But maybe a bright future.

And now we share a life.

The soft tap of my finger against the tub was exaggerated by the tile around me.

I knew what I had to do.

***

T
he dulcet tones of the violin drifted into my ears as I opened the tall glass door of the restaurant. The hostess area was lightly lit with candles adorning several small shelves against the back wall.

The floor, constructed of deep gray granite tiles, had a long floral runner ending at an elegant, handmade cherry podium.

I wonder if he's going to think this place is too fancy? I wanted to take him out of his element a bit. See if the refined nature here bothered him.
He didn't object when I called him and said to meet me at Capriani's, one of the more expensive places in town.

That had to be a good sign.

My anxiety began to set in at full force. I had arrived a few minutes early, wanting to have some time to settle in and calm my nerves.

I can't believe I'm doing this! Dinner with Owen Jenkins, I never would have imagined this three months ago.
A heavy breath pushed through my lips. I squeezed the small, red clutch in my hands and walked to the hostess.

A zealous smile spread across the young woman's face. “Hello, welcome to Capriani's. Your guest has been very eager for you to arrive.”

I looked at her, confused. “Wait, how do you know I'm here for someone in particular?”

There is no way he is here already. She must have me mistaken for someone else.

“I was given a very distinct description of who he was waiting for.” She held a menu up against her face as she spoke. “It also helped that he's been checking the front every few minutes and saw you pull in. Follow me.” Her smile never faded as she turned and entered the dining area.

My eyes studied the room, the candle light flickering brightly against the shiny leather of the booths. Each table was ornate with a tall vase filled with purple orchids. The cloth napkins resting on the tables were folded into the shape of birds, their color matched the flowers in the center.

As the hostess turned, I was struck by a sight I had never expected.

There Owen was, sitting in the booth, looking like one of the men in a GQ magazine. A black blazer rested over his muscular torso, a white t-shirt underneath tight against his skin. I could make out each crease of his abs under the cotton.

Oh my god. He looks incredible.

His gaze fixated on me as I was led to him. He didn't mute his overt appreciation for how I looked; he ate me up from feet to lips with his hungry stare.

He stood to greet me and my body began to warm, it was as if I had been out in the cold and was handed a hot drink. The heat poured over my insides, filling every space.

“Hello, beautiful. You look amazing,” he said as he placed his hands around my wrists.

“Thank you.” I didn't know what else to say.

I don't know if I'll be able to tell him about the baby. I need to, but this is going to be hard.

Just play it by ear. If it doesn't seem right, I won't tell him just yet.

“Sit. I told you before, I don't bite.” He chuckled and led me into the booth.

Neither of us uttered a word for several seconds. I looked down at my place setting and began to fidget with the silverware. I couldn't make eye contact with him. My stomach twisted and turned in every direction.

I'm so ridiculously nervous! I want to vomit.

Get a hold of yourself!

“So,” he said in a husky tone, “I'm going to be honest. I think you look so god damn sexy right now.” He brought his finger up and brushed my hair behind my ear.

My face flushed bright red, briefly my eyes reached his then looked across the room. I knew he was going to feel my nervousness, sense that I was unsure and afraid of what I was doing.

Come on, Charlie, just say something. Anything.

The silence that coated my tongue evaporated. “Well, you don't look so shabby yourself.”

“I'd thought about just wearing my dirty work clothes. But, they didn't really match the shoes I wanted to wear.” He leaned back in his seat, the corners of his mouth raised up in amusement.

That single motion brought me back to the prison, our meetings. How sure of himself he had been and still was.
It's such a turn on to see him so confident.

Before I could respond, the waiter walked up to our table bearing a full bottle of white wine. “Here you go, sir, our finest Chardonnay.” He lifted Owen's glass to pour it in. “Miss?”

“Oh. No thank you. Water will be just fine.” I darted my eyes between Owen and the waiter.

“What? No wine? This is a special occasion, live a little.” Owen lifted my glass to have it filled.

“No, really. I'm all set.” I tried to remain natural. “Water is fine.”

“Alright, so you're going to let me drink this whole bottle myself? Are you trying to get me wasted?” He wrinkled his forehead over my decline of the wine. “You want to take advantage of me, don't you?”