I flush the toilet and hang my head to the side. The morning, afternoon, and pretty much all the time sickness has begun. I haven't said anything to Will. He's been hovering whenever he's at home, and the last thing I need is for him to play nurse mate to a barfing pregnant woman.

The cold water splashes against my face, and I blot it dry with a soft towel then rinse my mouth out. After I'm finished gurgling, I turn sideways to look at my slightly bulging tummy. The beginning of a baby bump is barely noticeable to anyone but me, but I notice everything changing about my body with this pregnancy. I pull my shirt up and turn from side to side, carefully examining myself.

With the first pregnancy, I was worried about growing attached to the baby and then having to give it away. Now, I look forward to growing attached to the little ones I'm carrying. That's right—twins. Dr. Carter confirmed last week that both embryos took.

Will is very doting and has hired a nurse to stop in and help me with anything I may need whenever he's at work. I know he's trying to be helpful, but I like cooking breakfast and dinner for him by myself. I don't like the thought of a stranger being here during moments where he allows himself to let loose. Moments when he leans over to kiss me or bends down to kiss my belly. It feels intrusive to have someone witness those moments. They're for us to share together.

I've grown attached to him and the way he takes such good care of me. His kindness, loyalty, and devotion are admirable traits, but it's also the way he looks at me. Like I'm the only woman in the world. He's constantly telling me how beautiful I am, and I think I'm finally starting to believe him.

Even though I'm pregnant, I've never felt more comfortable in my own skin. Things are really looking up for me. I like the friends I've made since I've been here. I enjoy spending time with Abbi and listening to her crazy stories about her and Will's childhood. I look forward to seeing the ladies at the shelter.

These past ten weeks have brought more normalcy to my life than I've had in the past ten years.

"Get it together." I chastise myself, shaking my head as I pull my shirt back down over my belly. My eyes catch my expression in the mirror, and I stop. I brace my hands against the sink and lean in to stare into my own eyes. This isn't the same woman who looked back at me all those months ago. She was frightened and a shell of a human being. But this woman, this woman looks like she has something to live for. She looks like she's on the cusp of discovering something great about the life she's leading. She looks ... loved.

"Kara?" Will calls out a second before he gently pokes his head through the crack of the door. "Is everything all right?" he asks, concern pulling a V between his dark brows.

I jump, stumbling back away from the sink. In a split second, he's there. Arms wrapped around me, he’s pulling me against his hard chest and hugging me protectively, before quickly releasing me. But I don't miss his hesitation before he finally releases me. That one second delay tells me more than any words could––He cares.

"I'm sorry. You startled me. That's all." A wild wisp of hair falls into my eyes, and I quickly swipe it out of the way before raising my eyes to his.

He scratches the back of his neck, looking perplexed by my reaction. "I should have knocked, but I thought I heard you getting sick a minute ago, and then you went quiet. I was worried something had happened and came to check on you." His hands fall to his sides as he releases a heavy sigh, his body going slack at the realization that I'm okay.

"I was just ...” I pause, looking down at my stomach and trying to figure out how to tell him what exactly it was that I was doing.

A gentle finger nudges my chin up so that I'm face to face with him. "Truth?" He gives a soft smile, and I return it then nod.

"I was looking at my stomach." The heat surges up my neck and over my cheeks as my embarrassment rises. "I'm starting to show." My words are barely more than a whisper, but he grins nonetheless, having heard every word spoken, and even the unspoken.

"You've nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. It's perfectly natural for you to be excited about the changes, or even scared. But I want you to always be comfortable talking to me about what you're experiencing. I want to be here for you whenever you need me. All right?" He raises his brows in question, eyeing me for a minute before he finally sees what he's looking for and gives a soft nod. He leans down and kisses me on the forehead before stepping back.

"I'm sorry. This is all so new to me. I'm trying to adjust; it's just going to take a little more time. But I am trying."

The backs of his fingers run down the inside of my arm, weaving a slow and torturous trail toward my hand where hooks up and over my wrist and grazes the top of my hand before pulling away.

My eyes flash up to his. His dusky lashes give his hazel eyes a smoldering look that with one glance lights me up from the inside out. With one look, I melt. I don't know how he does it, but he affects me like no other. His presence. His gaze. No matter how much I try to deny it, I'm in love with Will Scott.

"Come with me." He tilts his head in the direction of the kitchen. "I have dinner ready." His deep baritone pulls me from the haze of my lust-filled thoughts and back to reality.

He exits the bathroom, and I stand there for a minute, trying to collect myself, but most of all, I’m trying to figure out how in the hell I'm going to survive the rest of this pregnancy with my heart intact. I know he cares for me. But that doesn't mean he loves me.

* * *

I had watched her from the crack in the door, debating on whether I needed to step in and help her. I'm still unsure of my role with her. Am I to act as caretaker, friend, lover ... who knows? Everything that is taking place between us is uncharted waters. I don't know of anyone who's ever been through something like this. My relationship with Kara is odd, but I'm determined to work through it and make it as uncomplicated as possible.

But then I look at her ...

Truly look at her ...

And all my good intentions disappear.

She's beautifully complicated, and it draws me in when I least expect it. Watching her get sick was hard to witness because I was so torn on what I was supposed to do.

But then she threw me for a loop after she cleaned herself up and started examining her body. The way she looked at herself in the mirror left no doubt in my mind that the woman staring back in her reflection was a creature she was struggling to come to terms with.

But what a beautiful creature she is.

Her genuine curiosity and timid ways provoke a need from me to protect the delicate shell encasing her vulnerabilities.

One minute there's a fire burning so brightly in her eyes that I'm forced to avert my gaze for fear of being burned. Then I see the fear she hides so well in a rare moment of total transparency.

This is a woman who needs to be loved––fiercely so.

The soft shuffle of her sock-covered feet reach my ears, alerting me to her presence long before the feeling of the room shifts as she enters. Every human has that extrasensory perception, but mine is heightened in her presence. The subtle shift in her breathing as she approaches me. The way the air around me seems to thicken with an unexplainable force that confounds me more often than not.

I shake off the unsettling feeling brewing in the air like a strong summer storm and turn, the pan in one hand, and a spatula in the other. Carefully, I tilt the pan and scoop out the omelet I've made for her.

I glance up, noticing her raised brow, but don't offer an explanation. She doesn't need to know that I've been watching cooking shows on my lunch breaks. I need to tackle my inability to cook, and omelets seemed a simple enough start in developing my culinary skills.

"It has bok choy, mushrooms, and baby shrimp in it. It's full of vitamin D, choline, and protein. All of which are vital for the babies’ development." I gesture to her belly with the spatula. She glances down, the corners of her lips twitching as she fights the urge to laugh.

"What?" I ask, pretending to be offended.

"You”—she waves her hand over the plate—"cooking?"

I smirk. "I'm a doctor. Cooking didn't seem such an unattainable skill."

She laughs. The sound filling the room like a chorus of sweetly harmonious bells.

I try to resist, but the more she looks at me standing there with the spatula in my hand and a false look of harmed male pride, the more the urge to laugh begins to rumble deep in my chest. Before I know it, we're both laughing together.

"All you need now is an apron that says 'Kiss the cook'," she teases.

I laugh harder, the visual popping into my head.

We laugh and tease each other while we eat. Moments like these are what I look forward to on my way home from work each day. I can't get home fast enough.

I don't know why I fought this so much, this easy banter and relaxed relationship developing between the two of us. It sure beats the anger and tension that used to lace every word with a hidden agenda.

Besides, Kara doesn't laugh nearly enough. She's coiled as tightly as a cobra ready to strike. And seeing her shed that tension is refreshing. She looks her age when her face lights up with laughter. The worries of the world seemingly forgotten, if only temporarily.

We're cleaning up and loading the dishwasher when I ask what's been weighing heavily on my mind since the day I saw a scar on her outer thigh.

"So, tell me, what were your past relationships like?"

She freezes, her expression closing off all insight to her thoughts.

I finish loading and then close the dishwasher before facing her. "Secrets are a cloak of fog distorting all that lies beyond it. Truths are the sunlight that breaks through the fog and shines a light on the path before us."

Her brows scrunch together, and her mouth forms an irritated pucker that I find adorable even though I know I shouldn't. "My nan used to say that." I give a soft smile and the tension in her face evaporates. "Abbi and I call them nanisms."

"Nan?"

My expression takes on a nostalgic look as s smile pulls at the corners of my mouth. My mind going back to a time when life wasn't so complicated. "Yeah. On my mom's side. She passed away when I was in college." I walk over to the fridge and pull out a couple of bottles of water and then take a seat at the bar.

She walks over and joins me, her chair scraping across the tile floor as she scoots up under the bar. I slide her water over and then slowly remove the cap from mine before taking a big swig.

The water beads on my upper lip, and I swipe it away with the back of my hand. I look up to see her staring at my lips, eyes captivated by my tongue as I lick them. Her eyes flash up to mine, and she clears her throat before looking away.

Inside, I smirk, but on the exterior, I hold it together. "My nan was a great woman. Married to my grandfather for fifty-three years before he died of a stroke."

"How did she die?"

"A broken heart," I say solemnly as if there couldn't possibly be any other explanation. Because in my mind, there isn't. "She lived for two years after he died and then died of congestive heart failure in her sleep. She was seventy-five." I take another drink and then screw the cap back on the bottle. My eyes lock on my fingers as I twirl the bottle in my hands, lost in thought.

"She lived a good life then." My eyes flick to hers in question. "To be loved that long and to be surrounded by those who loved her as much as she loved them." She twirls a strand of hair, a nervous gesture I've noticed she does when she's either embarrassed or uncomfortable. "That's the kind of life everyone dreams of having but few are blessed with."

Her eyes travel around the room, focusing on everything but me. The heat of her leg near mine is enough to let me know she feels my presence. Even if she doesn't want to acknowledge it, there's an awareness that passes when the two of us are in the room together. Our eyes don't have to meet. Our bodies don't have to touch. It's on an elemental level––it's a chemical reaction that jolts my body as if I were hooked to a live wire. I physically ache from it but try so damn hard to fight it.

Even though we've been told to abstain from sex, the urge is there, and it's damn near crippling in its intensity.

I move my knee over, grazing hers. Just enough to let her know it was intentional but not enough to seem forward.

She gasps, her chair scraping across the floor as she slams her feet to the ground and shoves away from the bar in the same motion. "I ... I need to take a bath," she stutters out nervously. Her fingers tucking her hair behind her ears, a pained expression on her beautiful face.

Before she walks away, I reach out and grab her by the elbow, drawing her back to me.

I rise to my full height, looking down at her with a heated gaze.

The soft skin of her arms beneath my fingers feels like heaven. I trail my touch down her arms before linking my fingers through hers and tugging her against my body.

I eye her for a second before my head dips down, my lips closing in on hers in a soft caress. Gently ... so gently, I kiss her. My fingers tighten around hers as my heart picks up speed. My body hums with excitement, and my head clouds over as her sweet scent settles around me like an invitation, drawing me in.

She pulls her fingers from mine and moves to push me away, but I grab her by the hips, walking her backward until her back hits the wall. Our kiss grows more heated by the minute. My mouth devouring hers and our tongues exploring each other.

I grow more frenzied by the second. My hands running over her hips, squeezing roughly and then moving over her shirt until I cup the lush mounds of her breasts, kneading her hard nipples between the tips of my fingers as I grind my erection against her stomach ...

"Easy, the babies." She gently pushes me away. Her lips kiss swollen and her chest heaving as she fights to gain control of her breathing.

I raise my hands––stepping back to give her some space. My head still in a cloud of lust, and my cock throbbing to the beat of my heart.

I adjust myself and take a few more steps back, my hands lacing through my hair as I try to make sense of what just happened. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." The words come out strangled as I fight to contain the desire flooding my veins. I want her so badly that I do the only thing I can to keep my hands to myself.

"I want you so badly, but I know we haven't been cleared by Dr. Carter yet. It's just ... it's killing me not to touch you. Not to take you how my body craves to take you."

She works to adjust her ruffled shirt. My eyes latch onto the gentle swell of her breasts and the hard peaks of her nipples.

A groan escapes my mouth before I can stop my body’s reaction to hers.

Her glazed eyes meet mine. Silence fills the room as our eyes convey a wealth of words with only a single glance.

"I have to burn off some energy. I'm going to tackle the gym."

I rush out of the room and get my gym bag together before I make my way to the garage. Kara is gone by the time I come back downstairs, and I release a relieved sigh. Seeing her would have tested my resolve.

I jump in my SUV and get the hell out of there before I do something I'll regret.

With her carrying twins, the pregnancy has been deemed high risk and sex is no-go. So I have to sit and look at her day in and day out knowing what it's like to sink deep inside her and not be able to actually do it.

It's torture.