Once she passes the animations, I frown and ask her if she’s really going to put me through a child’s movie.

  Just because I complained, that’s exactly what she chooses. I press my lips together to keep myself from smiling. Pretty sure she thinks I’m just scowling.

  She puts on Nightmare Before Christmas. Natalie sings every song and my attention keeps drifting to her. Halfway through the movie, she shivers, and I grab a fleece throw blanket for her before I crank up the heat.

  The sight of Natalie all cozied up on my couch, singing songs under her breath, should not make my heart race. It does. Oh, it fucking does.

  I force myself to focus on the TV. It gets harder when she leans against me, her warmth sinking into my bones.

  As the movie unfolds, I’m surprised to find myself captivated by the animation. The storytelling has me invested, locked into the story.

  “Alright,” I say, once the credits roll. “I’ll give you this one. Some animations really are impressive.”

  But Natalie doesn’t respond. Glancing over, I realize she’s fallen asleep, her head resting on my shoulder. Her breaths come slow and steady, her cheeks flushed pink from the warmth of the room. Her golden hair cascades around her like a waterfall of sunlight, and the sight leaves me breathless.

  As I look down at Natalie, her peaceful slumber a testament to the trust she’s placed in me, I realize that maybe, just maybe, there’s hope for a monster like me after all.

  NATALIE

  The car sways gently as Hunter navigates the winding road, his powerful hands gripping the wheel. I try to focus on the golden trees outside, dancing to the breeze, but my gaze keeps finding Hunter’s hands.

  I had no idea someone could have sexy hands. But Hunter does. Thick veins run down the back of his toned hand. I bet my fingers can barely close around his wrist.

  “You ain’t feeling sick or anything, are you?” he asks, a hint of concern in his gruff voice.

  I chuckle and shake my head. “No, I’m fine. I promise I won’t puke all over you again.”

  “Mm, can you promise that?” And I swear the corner of his lips tilts an inch.

  My heart skitters in my chest. He’s such a big, cold man. And yet he’s taken me in. A part of me is grateful. The other wants to tease him until he breaks. Until he reveals anything.

  “Where are we going?” I inquire, trying to keep my tone light.

  “We’re gonna do some shopping,” he explains, his blue eyes focused on the road ahead. “You’ll need a gown for the wedding.”

  My cheeks flush at the thought of attending such an event with him by my side. I would meet his friends, people who know him. And he would have to hold me and pretend to love me.

  Pretend to love me. I wonder what it would be like to be loved by him.

  “But I don’t have any money, just my savings,” I warn him. My savings are all but finished and, with Lars after me, I won’t make money soon.

  Will I ever have peace? How am I going to know we’re safe? I chew on my bottom lip and search Hunter’s eyes.

  Hunter looks offended, his jaw clenching. “You ain’t paying for anything while we’re in this deal, Natalie,” he announces.

  Announces. In his tone, he leaves no room for argument.

  Arching an eyebrow, I tilt my head to face him. “In my experience, men who like to pay expect more of a girl. I’d rather pay for myself,” I insist. “How about a thrift store? Those, I can afford.” Maybe.

  Hunter looks borderline horrified. His hand moves from the wheel and he reaches out for me. His fingers brush mine for half a second before he pulls back and grabs his knee.

  A shiver races through me as I imagine his hand around mine.

  “I told you, spitfire. I’ve got you covered,” he says, his voice softening.

  Tension crackles between us as our gazes lock, and I can’t help but notice how close he is.

  Something thumbs on the windshield. Rain falls outside, pattering against the glass. It takes me a moment to turn away from Hunter’s eyes.

  As if sensing the effect he’s having on me, Hunter grips the wheel and focuses on driving again. My body buzzes with the proximity, with the mere brush of his fingers. I clear my throat.

  “Fine,” I relent, as the rain continues to pick up. “But just this once.”

  Hunter nods. Something about the way his lips press together makes me think he doesn’t agree.

  After everything that’s happened to me, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone taking care of things for a change? Lars wasn’t like this. He wouldn’t care for me, he wouldn’t do nice things. He only wanted to control.

  The rain falls in heavy droplets that splatter against the windshield as Hunter parks in the shopping mall’s open area. I bite my lip, glancing at him with a mix of uncertainty.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to try thrifting?” I ask one last time as I peek at the high-end stores.

  Hunter’s blue eyes darken, and he turns off the engine. The sudden silence amplifies the drumming of my heart as if it’s trying to keep pace with the rain outside.

  Hunter watches me for a minute. He unbuckles his seatbelt and leans closer, cornering me in the small space between us. My breath hitches, and heat pools in my belly, setting every nerve alight.

  “Listen, spitfire,” he says, his rough voice velvety to my ears. “You’re going into that store, you’re gonna pick out your favorite dress, and I’m gonna buy it. Got it?”

  My skin tingles as his gaze flicks down to my lips and back up to my eyes, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I swallow hard, my mouth dry. It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the car, replaced only by the electric charge crackling between us.

  “Also,” he continues, “we need to find a nearby doctor to monitor your pregnancy. I promised to keep you and your child safe.” The unexpected tenderness in his voice is my undoing.

  How can someone this big, this cold, feel so warm?

  “Fine,” I whisper, my gaze on his lips. My breath comes out in shallow gasps, and for a moment, I think he might kiss me.

  Instead, Hunter pulls back.

  “Let me take care of it.”

  And I want to believe him. I do.

  I huff, the tension between us still palpable. His tone brooks no arguments—not that I have any left in me.

  With a roll of my eyes, I push open the car door and step out into the rain. The water soaks through the fabric of my hoodie. But just for a moment.

  Hunter stands next to me, his jacket draping over my back. He puts one of his thick arms over my shoulders in protection and leans closer. That big body makes it easy to hide from the rain.

  He’s close, too close. The smell of his musky fragrance makes my head swim. He’s warm like a forest fire. I sink into him a little further.

  We reach the store and slip inside. And just like that, Hunter’s gone, and my body immediately misses his. Something tells me it’s not getting easier from here.

  NATALIE

  A jolt wakes me up, and I cover my belly with my hand. The baby kicks again. I sigh, stroking circles there, mentally caressing my child to calm them down.

  But they keep going.

  “Well, you’re active today. Couldn’t have waited until morning, could you?” I chuckle, dropping back onto the pillows.

  Hunter’s bed is so comfortable. I could get used to sleeping here. It’s been only a couple of days, and I already can’t imagine myself without this softness. For a guy so serious and grumpy, he has an amazingly comfy bed.

  Sleep stretches its tendrils toward me, but every time I doze off, the baby kicks again.

  “Alright, baby,” I whisper, then sigh. “I’m awake.” And aching for a bathroom now. With a grumble, I get up.

  My feet touch the floor and I half-expect to wince with the cold. But it’s pretty warm. Hunter kept the heat on. I let myself smile.

  As I leave the bathroom, my gaze finds the silhouette on the couch. I pause. The moonlight casts a gentle glow over Hunter’s naked, muscular back, making his skin look like silk. My heart races.

  I stand there and stare at him. At how male and beautiful he is. Without a sound, I approach him, drawn in by his presence.

  The moon catches the scars scattered across Hunter’s right shoulder and down his back. I frown.

  My heart aches for him, wondering what he’s been through.

  Alongside the scars, intricate tattoos of feathers climb down his arms. Wings. I stretch out my hand, my fingers hovering over the drawings.

  Hunter values freedom. Is that why he lives so far from the city? Is that why he prefers his loneliness?

  What’s his story? I yearn to know more about this mysterious man. I crave to hear more about him.

  Hunter jerks awake. I almost jump out of my skin. His eyes are alert, scanning the room before landing on me.

  I realize how close I am to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body. Shit. He’s going to think I’m a crazy stalker.

  Hunter sits up, revealing his chiseled chest.

  Good. Now my heart’s racing even faster. Can a person have a heart attack from seeing too much hotness?

  Hunter’s face twists in agony for a second before his expression morphs into one of surprise at seeing me. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says in the gruff voice of someone who has just woken up.

  “You okay?” I whisper, even though it’s just us in the house.

  “Yeah. Just a nightmare.”

  A nightmare. How hard was his life for him to wake up from such nightmares?

  “What are you doing out of bed?” he asks, concern lacing his voice.

  “The baby’s kicking up a storm,” I reply, covering my belly with a hand.

  Moonlight illuminates Hunter’s face when his eyes shoot to my stomach. “A good kind of kick, I hope? The healthy kind?”

  This time, I can’t help but smile. “Yeah. The healthy kind.” The baby starts kicking again. “Oof. There they are.”

  The way Hunter looks at me can only be described as yearning. I can’t believe he’s looking at me like this. Am I dreaming?

  A wild thought occurs to me. I take a deep breath and ask, “Do you want to feel it?”

  Silence stretches between us, tension humming in the air. Will he do it? Will he touch my stomach, feel my child moving? I’m almost afraid to hope.

  Which is good, because he glances at my belly again, then shakes his head. Disappointment is a bitter pill.

  I clear my throat, trying to salvage the moment. “What was the dream about?” I ask, as softly as I can.

  Hunter’s lips press into a firm line. “Don’t worry about that.”

  “Of course I do. Talking might help.” Undeterred, I make my way closer, drawn to his body heat.

  As I sit next to him, our arms brushing together, electricity sparks between us like fireworks. His eyes are blue flames in the darkness.

  “You can trust me,” I whisper.

  My heart beats in my throat. Those eyes pierce into me, seeing through me. Hunter leans an inch. His body presses closer.

  Hunter snaps out and straightens his back. “You should go back to bed. You need your beauty sleep,” he says, and though there’s sarcasm in his voice, I know it’s fake.

  Why can’t he open up with me? Does he think I’m so foolish I can’t be trusted?

  I huff at the thought.

  “Why do you have to be so obstinate?” Frustration colors my voice. I push myself off the couch, feeling the sting of rejection burn deep in my chest.

  And I hope he’s going to stop me, but he doesn’t. There’s an undeniable connection between us, one he refuses to acknowledge.

  One I will not let go.

  HUNTER

  The enticing aroma of bacon invades my senses, dragging me from the depths of sleep. My eyes flutter open to find sunlight spilling into the living room.

  It’s early. My clock goes off at six and it hasn’t made a sound yet. But there’s so much sunlight...

  I stretch my stiff limbs as my stomach rumbles. My thoughts turn to Natalie, and I wonder if she’s the one filling the house with that heavenly smell.

  I sit up and search for my shirt. Scratching my chest, I find the item in a pool near my feet. I pick it up and put it on. Finally, I check my phone.

  Eight o’clock. Holy shit. I can’t even remember the last time I woke up this late. What happened to my alarm?

  Padding barefoot to the kitchen, I chew over the matter. The second my feet touch the floor tiles, I freeze.

  The sight before me makes my heart skip a beat.

  Natalie bustles around the kitchen clad in her pink pajama set, showing off her delicious thighs, and her blonde hair tied in a messy bun. Her green eyes sparkle with concentration as she flips pancakes with practiced ease, her pregnant belly leading the way.

  It’s like I died and this is heaven. A gorgeous woman preparing breakfast as if she were mine. As if the child in her belly was mine.

  As if this was usual and we were a family. I can’t help but watch her with a mixture of admiration and desire. Awe steals my breath away.

  “Morning, Mr. Grumpy Pants,” she teases, glancing at me with a smile that lights up her pink cheeks. “How did you sleep?”

  I grunt. “Can’t complain. I did oversleep.”

  Natalie shoots me a grin. “I’m the one who turned off your alarm. I thought you deserved a bit of rest, and then I’d have the time to prepare breakfast.”

  I arch an eyebrow. “Why would you do that?” This woman! She’s maddening.

  “Because you’ve been preparing breakfast every day since I arrived. It’s not fair, is it?”

  Narrowing my eyes, I march to her. “How is it unfair that I want to keep you from working? You’re pregnant.”

  “I’m pregnant, not dead.” She narrows her eyes back at me, and we stare for a moment.

  “You’re challenging,” I tell her, leaning against the countertop as I try to ignore the strange feelings bubbling inside me. I ain’t one for falling for someone so easily, but damn, Natalie throws all of my plans out the window...

  “So you slept well,” she cuts me in, flipping another pancake onto a plate.

  “Like a log,” I say and pick up a mug, “as I mentioned, I’ve had worse.”

  “Just because you had worse, it doesn’t mean you should get used to something bad again,” she shoots back. “I still don’t like the whole sleeping-on-the-couch thing.”

  Coffee steams off my mug, and I can’t help stepping closer to Natalie. “Is that an invitation for us to share the bed, spitfire?”

  Her cheeks burn red, but her green eyes narrow in defiance. “Only in your dreams.”

  Ah, she’s been in my dreams. My dreams are twisted flashbacks, scenes of war and death mingling with memories of my routine. Until Natalie walked into my life.

  Now, I dream. And I dream about her.

  It’s painful how much I want this woman to stay in my life. How hard I need her closer.

  “What I meant,” Natalie goes on, turning the oven off, “is that I’m the guest, so I should keep the couch. That’s the logical thing to do.”

  “The logical thing is to put the pregnant woman on the bed,” I correct her, walking to the table and putting my mug down. “Juice or hot chocolate?” I ask. She brewed coffee for me, but I know she’s avoiding coffee during the pregnancy.

  “Juice,” she replies without missing a beat. “And I don’t want you to treat me differently just because I’m pregnant.”

  I snort. “Natalie. You’re carrying a child inside you. Of course I’ll treat you differently.” Then I shrug. “Not that I’d let you take the couch if you weren’t.”

  “Oh, so you admit you’re just pigheaded?” she asks with a smirk as she puts the pancake plate in the center of the table.

  “Call me what you want, it’s my house, and I won’t allow you to sleep on the couch.”

  She twists her lips but doesn’t say a thing. I’m afraid I insulted her, but when I glance her way again, her pink cheeks glow and her eyes sparkle.

  God, this woman. Only a handful of days and I’m head over heels. I’m in awe, and obsessed, and utterly, completely... falling in love.

  That’s a first. I’m falling in love with this hurricane of a woman.

  And I have no way out.

  HUNTER

  We take our seats and I pile my plate high with pancakes and crispy bacon. It’s not what I usually have, but it’s home-cooked and perfect. I even pour syrup over it all.

  “Alright, let’s talk strategy,” I say, trying to regain some semblance of control over my thoughts. “We need to convince Simon that we’re dating, and we barely know each other.”

  Natalie nods, taking a bite of her pancake. It’s quite the effort to pry my eyes away from her lips, curling around the fork, her little tongue lapping at the syrup on the corner of her mouth.

  My cock jumps in my pants, but I’m already used to it. It never goes down around her.

  “Maybe we should quiz each other on likes and dislikes, so our lie is more convincing,” she suggests. “Just like the movies.”

  “You have a point. We can’t wing it, especially with someone as perceptive as Simon.”

  “Of course I have a point. I’m so smart.” And she smirks, victorious.

  It takes everything in me not to smile back. “Go on, spitfire. Tell me something about you.”

  “Um, I love sunflowers,” she shares, her eyes gazing into the distance. “They remind me of happy times, and they always brighten my day.”

  “Sunflowers, huh? Good to know.” I can’t help but imagine Natalie surrounded by a field of vibrant sunflowers, her face glowing with happiness. “Alright. What else? Favorite food?”

  “Anything that has mashed potatoes.”

  Mentally, I write the items down. Buy sunflowers. Buy more potatoes, mash them once a week for her...

  “I listen to blues. My favorite movies are always animations...”

 

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