What the Heart Takes (18 page)

A soft moan rose from her throat. His mouth muffled most of the sound, but it didn’t affect him any less. She felt every inch of him, every inch that begged her to remove the clothes that constrained him.

The warmth of his hands returned to her hips. He slipped one under the top of her pants, furthering their decent below, finding the spot he wanted, the special little spot that made her legs twitch the second he pressed his fingers against it. She moaned again when he swirled them. He echoed the sound, gripping her hip with his other hand. And just as a sweet tingle began to build within her, the bedroom door shook in its frame, followed by a voice.

“Where do you want your stuff?”

Like a bucket of water thrown over a set of coals, the sound of Layne’s voice extinguished the passion between them.

CHAPTER 12

Dylan locked eyes with Layne the moment he stepped out of the bedroom. It was tempting to cuss him for the interruption, so tempting that he clamped his teeth firmly on his tongue. He knew that Heaven was focused on their connection, waiting to see if he’d behave. And he would, for her and the baby.

He closed the door behind him, giving her the privacy she needed to change for bed. If not for Layne, she wouldn’t be switching clothes. She’d be in his arms, wearing nothing but her skin.

His friend had a knack for showing up at the wrong time, ruining many intimate moments between him and Heaven. Like the weekend they’d spent at Jerry’s beach house, the morning Heaven lay under him, on the brink of making love. The instances grew worse in Jamaica. It was as if Layne had some type of internal alarm that went berserk whenever Dylan touched Heaven.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he was right. Only it wasn’t an internal alarm. It was Layne’s connection with Heaven. It had to be.

Layne shifted his weight to his other leg, taking a couple steps back from the luggage. “I didn’t mean to bother you. Your mom told me to set those by the door so you could find them when you got up. I heard mumbling and thought—” He shook his head and gazed away. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. I shouldn’t have knocked. You guys were still awake. Right?”

“Yeah,” Dylan nodded, stepping around the suitcases. “Did you…did you hear what we were saying?”

“No. I was busying carrying your luggage down the hall. Why are you asking?”

Dylan left the question hanging as he brushed by Layne, motioning for him to follow. Reluctance flashed in his friend’s eyes, but he pushed off the wall and joined him. To his surprise, there was no sign of his mother or Heaven’s parents in the living room.

“Where did my mom go?”

Layne tipped his head toward the front door. “She went back inside with Anna and Nicholas. They helped me carry our stuff to the door. I told them I could take it from there.” He said nothing more as he spun in a circle, studying their new surroundings. The moment his eyes returned to the door, he shifted them past Dylan to the archway on their left. “Your room is off from the living room. The kitchen is through there, and the dining area is behind us. So where is my room?”

Drawing his shoulders upward, he shrugged at Layne and walked toward the kitchen. “I’m assuming it’s on this side of the house. There’s nowhere else it could be.” They continued through the quaint room. Their shoes scuffed the tile floor with each step. Just past the refrigerator, he noticed another archway. “I’d say it’s through there.”

He stepped to the side as Layne moved around him. The sooner his friend found his room, the sooner he could return to Heaven. Their connection had settled back to a hum, which was a good sign she wasn’t stressing. Hopefully, she’d changed and found her way into bed.

The sound of Layne’s footsteps faded as he came to a stop under the archway. He poked his head inside the hall and glanced to his left. “Guess you’re right. There’s a door at the end, just like your room.” He stepped further inside, craning his neck as he stared. “I also see a bathroom and what looks like another way into the dining room.”

“It sounds like a pretty good setup. You’ll have the privacy you need on the other side of the house but be close enough for Heaven. Speaking of which, you should probably get your stuff inside and crash. You can’t protect my wife if you’re fighting to stay awake.”

He’d managed to say the words without sounding like a total jackass. Heaven would be pleased. Hell, he was proud of himself, considering he wanted to rip Layne to shreds less than an hour ago. Guess his argument with Heaven helped him realize he had nothing to fear. She loved him, not Layne. She carried the proof inside her, proof that loved to kick his hand each time he touched her stomach.

“So what’s the deal? Why were you asking me if I could hear your conversation?”

“I’m just curious how soundproof the rooms are. We didn’t hear you approaching.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. The fact that he hadn’t heard Layne walking down the hallway raised more concerns, but it wasn’t the reason he’d asked Layne the question. Not when he’d wondered how long his friend stood outside the bedroom door, listening. Had Layne heard his and Heaven’s conversation about making love? Had he heard the sweet sound of her moans? They still echoed in Dylan’s mind.

Layne leaned against the wall and raised a brow. A skeptical expression shadowed his face. “You were supposed to be going to bed. I was trying to be quiet.”

Guess there was no getting out of this conversation now. He might as well tell Layne his thoughts on the matter. “I appreciate you being quiet, but we should have at least heard the wheels on the suitcases. I don’t understand how we didn’t hear you but you heard us.”

“You didn’t hear the wheels because I carried the luggage. As far as me hearing you, I didn’t until I set your stuff on the floor. I took a moment to catch my breath when I heard your voice. It sounded like someone mumbling into a pillow, but it was enough for me to think you were awake.”

The answer gave him a little relief. As focused as he was on Heaven, he could have blocked out the sound of Layne’s footsteps. But what if it had been someone else? “I’m worried about someone sneaking up on us. What happen to the cottage is proof that someone
is
looking for Heaven.”

“Did you tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“About the cottage.” Layne’s eyes narrowed on his face the longer he remained quiet. “You know, the whole cottage-blown-to-pieces part.”

“No. I haven’t told her yet. She’s exhausted, man. She needs sleep. You know as well as I do that when she finds out about the cottage, it’s going to upset her.”

His friend stepped closer. “She needs to know, Dylan.”

Christ… They were back to this again. Layne wanted to argue about what was best for Heaven. He would never listen to reason. “I don’t want to hide it from her, but I have to look out for her and the baby. You heard what my mom said. The pregnancy is stressful enough. Anything else could make her contractions get worse. She’ll end up having the baby before it’s time.”

Layne remained unmoved. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and shook his head. “I understand where you’re coming from, but you still need to tell her. I think she’s a lot tougher than anyone gives her credit. She can handle the truth. It’s lies that upset her.”

So now Layne thought he knew Heaven better than him. The hell he did. Fucking idiot. “It’s not lying. It’s withholding information that could jeopardize her life.”

“Listen, you gave me shit for not being honest with her. Now you’re doing the same. That makes you a hypocrite.”

That was it.

He stepped away from the pantry and nosed up to Layne. “No. It makes me a man who’s desperate to keep his wife and his child alive. I will tell her the truth when I know they’re safe.”

Layne stepped back into the hall, raising his hands in front of him. “I don’t want to fight about this, but you need to hear me out. Her safety is my responsibility too.”

“Says the man who wanted to argue with her on the side of the interstate. The same man who wanted to abandon his duties because he might have to deal with his ex.”

Anger burned in Layne’s eyes as he glared at him. “I wasn’t going to abandon her. I was frustrated because everyone expects me to protect her, but no one listens to what I have to say. Knowledge is power. She needs to be on guard. Either you tell her about the cottage or I will.”

Cotton filled Dylan’s palms as he fisted Layne’s shirt and jerked him forward. “This is where you need to shut up and listen. If you do your job, she won’t have to be on guard. She doesn’t need any more stress, Layne.”

Ripping resonated from Layne’s shirt as he pulled away from Dylan’s grasp. “And if you’d quit being a jealous asshole, I could protect her the way she needs to be protected.”

They glared at each for a solid minute before Dylan stepped back into the kitchen. He wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t fight with Layne, again. Doing so put Heaven in as much danger as Layne’s inability to follow orders. There was only one way to get him to see reason, even if it was with cruel intentions.

“What if you tell her the truth and it upsets her so much that she goes into labor?” He waited until Layne refaced him. “Can you live with yourself if the baby died? Do you think she could?”

Layne’s jaw flinched at Dylan’s words. He didn’t like the thought any better than Dylan, but it was something they both had to consider, regardless. “Fine,” he huffed. “I won’t say anything, but you better convince your mom and in-laws to do the same. If one of them slips, she’ll be pissed at both of us. We’ve kept enough stuff from her and look where that’s gotten us.”

“We won’t have to keep it a secret for long. Ten weeks. If she goes into labor after that, she and the baby will be safe.”

He reached his hand forward, waiting for Layne to shake it. His friend stared at him, making the moment more awkward than it was. He finally gripped Dylan’s hand in a firm shake that sealed yet another secret pact between them.

If good intentions paved the road to hell, keeping secrets was the asphalt truck that led the way.

* * *

The door handle vibrated in Dylan’s hand the second the latch clicked into place. He kept his hand on the cool brass and stared across the room toward the bed. His eyes trailed over the comforter, following the perfect outline of a body, a body he wanted to be curled behind.

Sliding off his shoes, the floor cooled his feet with each step he made. His knees brushed the edge of the mattress awaiting his arrival, but he couldn’t climb inside. Not when the sight of Heaven stole his breath.

He couldn’t get over how beautiful she looked, curled on her side, the hem of her t-shirt partially covering her panties. One arm hid beneath the pillow where her head lay. The other embraced her stomach.

His gaze lingered on her abdomen as he drew in a sandalwood-scented breath. How could she prove her love for him any more than this? She couldn’t. He needed to respect that and her. All the arguing with Layne had to stop, right along with the broken promises. He’d made plenty to himself and her, swearing he would get over his issues with Layne.

Heaven was right about one thing. Their relationship wasn’t normal. When she caught up on her sleep, they’d find out how unusual it was. Their parents promised that much.

Regardless of what they discovered, he had to make sacrifices when it came to his wife. Even if it meant she had to get closer to Layne.

The thought made his stomach churn.

“Damn it,” he whispered under his breath
.
He couldn’t rush this. It would take time for him to accept their connection.

The threat of sleep grew heavy in his eyes. He rubbed his face, kneading his temples with his fingers. When would this nightmare be over? When would he be able to lie beside his wife and not worry about someone trying to hurt her?

Developing light sleeping patterns became a priority. From the moment Heaven’s nightmares started, he’d been more attuned to her movements. Threats on her life increased that awareness. The last thirty-six hours hadn’t helped.

He watched her chest rise and fall, noting that it still matched his. Guess that would never change since it was his breath inside her. It made him all the more determined to find out who issued the threats on her life and who’d blown up the cottage.

A gentle pulse of energy wrapped around him, increasing the heaviness in his eyes. He trailed them over Heaven’s back, amazed at how her body barely showed signs of pregnancy. The curve of her hips hadn’t changed, nor had she gained much weight. Even the tiny protrusion at her waist didn’t amount to much, which made it harder to believe they’d be meeting their child soon.

Pressing his knee into the mattress, he crawled into bed, coming to a halt as Heaven tossed a little. Part of him wanted her to wake up so they could finish what Layne interrupted, but he knew she needed the rest. It was only a moment before her breaths resumed their normal rise and fall.

Instead of curling up behind her, he leaned over her side, brushing his lips against her stomach. He sensed a faint yet rapid quiver of fear from the tiny soul inside. The baby’s kick vibrated his lips a second later.

“It’s okay, little one,” he whispered against her belly, “I’m fine. I’ll make sure your mommy is too, so no more stressing. Let me worry about her.”

Another kick made his lips curve higher. He kissed the spot where the baby moved, then curled his body around his wife, holding her close as sleep overtook him.

* * *

Sunshine broke through the trees above Layne, casting gilded rays on part of the back deck. He plopped down in the corner chair, stretching his legs in front of him until the rays warmed his toes. He should have gone to bed like Dylan suggested two hours ago. His brain felt like mush, but it was his first chance at solitude. He needed to decompress.

Rubbing at the tightness in his shoulder, he tried not to focus on the last day and a half. Wasn’t it enough that he’d agreed to stay here? Why did everything else continue to torment him? Maybe because he was surrounded by the only two women who’d caused a reaction in him, two opposite reactions. For one, an intense amount of hate; the other an intense amount of—