Always The Hero (Plot Twist, I'm Pregnant 2) - Page 8

Tin tiles shined on the ceiling instead of conventional material. It had a stamp on each tin that reminded me of the New Orleans Saints symbol. The floor was made up of bamboo wood, a pale tan color with brown grooves that made the white double sink vanity pop with its vintage designs and curled golden claw feet. The soaking tub could hold two people comfortably, and whoever my significant other would be, her breasts and knees would be covered at the same time.

Lucy said that was important. Who was I to question a woman?

The shower had a few rainforest showerheads coming from the natural stone walls. I wanted it to look like something from a tropical paradise. The idea came from wanting to shower under a waterfall, so I made it what I wanted. That shower stall could hold three people, but a third person would never happen.

I’d just use the extra room to fuck my wife.

Whoever she was, she was probably out there, cuddling up to some fucking nobody that treated her like dirt. I’d wait impatiently for her to come to her senses, and I’d be right here ready to treat her with all the love and respect she wanted.

I walked so slow to the doorway, afraid that I’d make noise. It took some time, but I managed to press my back against the wall and peek around the corner to see if I could see them. What I saw made my heart skip a beat and my cock wake up. I immediately looked away, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm myself down.

Whoever that was, had the most beautiful backside I had ever seen. With that quick glimpse, I saw more than I should have, but to be fair, I had no idea the he I thought this person was, would be a she. She was skinnier than she needed to be, but regardless, she was beautiful. Long cappuccino colored hair fell to her waist, and her round ass was plump and firm, probably from all the walking she had to do.

Something swelled inside my chest, something protective.

Risking my sanity, I took another look and breathed a sigh of relief that she was dressed. Don’t get my wrong, she was beautiful naked, but staring at a woman I didn’t know, and who had no idea I was there, made me feel like a peeping Tom.

I hadn’t seen her face yet, but as she combed her hair over her shoulder, those protective instincts swirled again when I saw a huge scar on the back of her head. God, it looked horrible and painful. It was still pink like it was healing and had happened recently. She flipped her hair over, combed it again, and then flip it back up. It had a natural wave to it, but she didn’t leave what I imagined were silky soft strands down. She twisted the brown locks and then spun in it in a circle on the top of her head, tucking the ends underneath to make a makeshift bun.

She didn’t have a hairband.

Her neck and shoulders showed, and she had milky skin, and the thin straps of her gown were parallel to one another as they ran down her back.

Her nightgown was old, simple, a light blue cotton material that fell to her feet. The only other person I knew that wore stuff like that was my grandma. She died a few years before my parents did.

The woman in front of me was not a grandma, though. She was young, younger than me, but still, the gown worked for her. I didn’t need to see her face to know that. It suited her. She sat down on a few cheap blankets that had holes in them, and her backpack was positioned like a pillow would be.

She opened something and it was now or never to introduce myself before it got too weird. I had been standing here watching her for far too long. Shit, I was acting like a peeping Tom. Her back was to me, and my eyes fixated on the soft spot on the back of her nape. The urge to kiss it was strong, too strong. I hadn’t even seen her face, but I wanted her more than anything.

Something pulled me to her.

“Excuse me?” I finally spoke up, but my voice cracked like I was some preteen boy.

She jumped and screamed at the same time she turned around, so she faced me and pressed her back against the wall, trying to get as far away from me as possible. On the ground, there was a sandwich and a drink; she hadn’t even taken a bite out of it yet because I interrupted her.

A lungful of air whooshed out of my lungs when I saw her face. Gorgeous, no, timeless. Her face held no flaws, her lips were a natural bright berry color, and those almond-shaped eyes almost had me on my knees. Big brown doe eyes stared at me, filled with tears and terror.

While I was stunned into silence by her beauty, her fear of me had me pulling my head out of my ass. “It’s okay. You don’t need to be afraid of me. I would never hurt you.” I sat the bag down slowly, and her head jerked to the right, watching my arm and every move I made.

She crossed her arms over her chest to cover herself. At the same time, her pointed chin started to wobble, and tears fell quicker than a mudslide down her face.

I kneeled to the ground to hopefully seem less threatening. “I’m not here to hurt you. I am the man building this house. I got a call about someone being here.”

Her eyes went wide, and she scrambled for her things only to sit back. She wasn’t too sure what to do. Getting her things meant getting closer to me, but I was a threat right now, so she wanted to be as far away from me as possible.

And that fucking hurt more than it should have.

“I wanted to come see for myself who was here and to make sure no one was damaging the place. I see your not. I brought you food, but you seem to have that covered.”

She pulled her blankets to her and held her sandwich, narrowing her eyes at me like she was about to fight me for it. Jesus Christ. What kind of life had this woman had?

“I’m not going to take your food. That’s yours. I have a bottled Coke and some steak. It isn’t much, but it was what I had. Do you want it?” I asked, watching her interest peak. She tried to look into the bag, but she didn’t see anything from that angle. She still held her sandwich in a death grip, but I could tell she wanted more than that bread with thinly sliced meat. The woman needed protein.

She was too thin.

I could fix that. I’ll take care of her.

“I’m Logan,” I introduced myself and held out my hand. “What’s your name??

Tags: Kelli Callahan Plot Twist, I'm Pregnant Romance
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