I hear the click of the door as she enters. I panicked a little when I came home and found the house empty. I know it's wrong of me, but if she never left the house, I would be completely happy.

When she leaves ... I worry. Anything can happen out there, and now that she's carrying my child, my fear multiplies times two.

Abbi was right in a twisted sisterly kind of way. I'm afraid of growing close to her because I know that eventually, she'll leave. Whether it's of her own accord or me driving her away with my hard-edged exterior.

The funny thing is, I'm beginning to want her to stay. It's nice coming home to a house and knowing that someone is on the other side of the door waiting for you. Even though I'm sure she isn't pining during my absence, she does seem to be somewhat pleased when I return.

Before I can rein myself in, the words tumble out of my mouth. "Where have you been?"

She stops, and the look that crosses over her face causes me to cringe internally. Apprehension and maybe a little fear weigh heavy on the strained expression she now wears. "My apologies. That came out harsher than I intended," I huff out, my fingers twining in my hair as I turn around and pace the floor before facing her again.

Defeated, my hands fall to my sides as I turn to face her. She places her purse on the island counter and takes a seat on one of the barstools. "I was bored and wanted to take in the city before I get too big to enjoy it."

I eye her closely, sensing that something is off, but I can't put my finger on what it is. With a raised brow, I ask, "And what did you go to see? Anything in particular?"

She fidgets in her seat but responds with a composure that I'm currently lacking. "Nothing specific. I just walked around. Visited some of the shops and purchased a few items." She points at a bag next to her purse from a shop I've never heard of before. But it's Chicago ... there's no end to the retail outlets in which to spend ungodly amounts of money. The streets are lined with boutiques from high-end couture to low-end thrift stores.

I shake my head, feeling like an ass. "I'm sorry. This is ...” I point at her and back at me. "I've never had to worry about a child before, and I'm finding it difficult not to be overbearing. This is new to me." I laugh a humorless laugh. "Not the whole worrying about someone else. Trust me, I've been there before, and it didn't turn out good." I frown. Memories of that day threaten to flood my mind, but I put a lid on it and face the problem sitting before me. "Listen, I just need to know where you're at. Okay?"

"Okay." It comes out barely above a whisper, and I feel like a complete ass for berating her.

I release a heavy breath and sit down on the stool next to her, staring down at the counter. I reach over to her purse and touch the phone peeking out of the back pouch. "I need some form of communication from you. Just to let me know what's going on." I chance a look at her and find her eyes staring into mine.

We stare at each other, no words passing, but thoughts are communicated from her gaze to mine.

I'm sorry, she says.

No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted like such an ass, I say.

We sit like that, communicating without words, for what seems like a small eternity.

She's the first to look away, and it doesn't escape my notice that she's nervously chewing on her bottom lip.

That sweet plump lip that I'd love nothing more than to suck on and then gently nibble from one corner to the next.

She sucks in a breath, and I'm pulled back to reality from the fantasy of ravishing her mouth.

I jerk up from the stool and make my exit. Not saying another word, I get the hell away from her before I do something I'll regret.

* * *

What the heck just happened?

I head upstairs to my room and plop down on the bed. I'm feeling all out of sorts lately, but surely, it's too early for it to be pregnancy hormones. I contemplate that thought and then remember how out of control I've felt and then quickly come to the conclusion that no, it's obviously not too early.

When I came home and saw that Mr. Scott had been waiting for me and began questioning me on my whereabouts ... at first, I was afraid. I didn't know if he would lose his temper and begin screaming at me or if he would accuse me of hiding something from him. I didn't want to lie to him, but I would have if he'd asked.

Sometimes, the hardest thing for me to do is rid myself of old habits. I instinctively go into shutdown mode when confronted. Silence used to be my only means of protecting myself. I learned early on that no matter what I said, I was always wrong, and it only pissed Jay off even more if I tried to defend myself.

But Mr. Scott appears to be different. His questioning seems to be because he genuinely cares for my well-being. I answered him as honestly as I could. I mean, I couldn't come right out and tell him about my visit to my attorney’s office, but I didn't lie about shopping. I had ventured into a few shops to choose a couple of tops that will accommodate my expanding girth over time.

I'm only a few weeks into the pregnancy, and so far, I haven't noticed any huge changes, other than feeling tired all the time. But the doctor assured me that's quite normal this early on in the pregnancy. My body is going through a lot of changes to accommodate the pregnancy, and it's natural that I tire easily.

But what happened the moment our eyes locked on one another ... that wasn't hormones or effects from the pregnancy. Something raw and carnal passed between us. It wasn't awkward or intimidating like I usually feel when I'm around Mr. Scott. No, it seemed like he saw me as a woman for the first time. He looked beyond the contract to the woman sitting before him. His eyes blazed a trail over my features and settled like molten lava on my lips. I could practically feel the sensual heat building between us. And just when I thought he would kiss me, he left. Just up and left me sitting there with my mouth hanging wide open.

Was I shocked? No, not really. He tends to flee when things get a little heated between us. But for one minute, I saw his walls crumble and I looked into the eyes of a man who wanted me––very badly. And no sooner did I see that spark of lust flare like the sun in his eyes did he blink. His walls erected once more, he eyed me as if I were a mystery to solve and not a woman of flesh and bone and sensual needs.

It was akin to having a bucket of iced water poured over my head. Effectively snuffing the smoldering flame that had just sparked to life.

"If that's how you want to play it, Will Scott, that's fine with me," I mutter under my breath.

I refuse to be the victim again. I will not let a man trample over my self-worth. I am worthy of love. I am worthy of affection. And I'm damn sure worthy of desire. Although my increasing waistline might hamper that for the time being, I am still worthy.

With that thought in mind, I rise from the bed and decide to take a nice, long, hot relaxing bath.