Page 8 of Beneath His Vow (Knocked Up and Locked Down #1)

EIGHT

CASEY

It’s been two weeks since the scan. Two weeks of watching Lexi’s body change, two weeks of our baby growing inside her, getting bigger. Two weeks of losing my mind every time she’s out of my sight.

We’re having a lazy morning before she has to get ready for work.

The bed covers are pushed down under her belly, my tee bunched up under her tits.

I trace the small swell nestled between her hips with awe.

I’ve never seen anything so fucking perfect in my life.

Every time I look at her body, I’m amazed at what she’s doing, at what she’s carrying.

I lean down, leaving kisses on the underside of her tiny bump, trailing up to her navel and back down. I fucking love her more than I can ever put into words and since she got pregnant, my possessiveness is even harder to control.

But there’s something else. Something… more.

Lex should be happy. She is—mostly. But I see it in her eyes. They’re not as bright, not as lively as they usually are. I tried to convince myself it’s just the pregnancy taking its toll, but I have this feeling it’s something more. I just… don’t know what.

The baby is fine—the OB confirmed it. I know her job is stressful, but it’s always been that way. She deals with it.

But I see the strain in her eyes that I can’t place and I hate it.

“You would tell me, wouldn’t you?” I stroke her stomach. There’s a small stretch mark on the underside of her bump, and I lean down to kiss it like it’s sacred.

It is.

It’s the evidence she’s carrying the most important thing we’ve ever done together.

Her eyes find mine, her head tilting on the pillows. “Tell you what?”

I kiss over where our child sleeps, then I lock my gaze on her. “If something was wrong.”

There’s a slight twitch around her eyes, barely perceptible, probably not noticeable to anyone else, but I know Lexi. Know her down to her bones.

Her fingers slide into my hair, more gentle than I have any right to expect. She looks like a fucking dream the way she’s laid out like this, belly gently curving, the softness of her hips begging to be grabbed.

“I’m okay, Casey.”

I stare at her, as if that can drag the truth out of her. “Is it the baby?” I press.

Her breath comes out in a rush as she sits up. I like this position better. It makes her belly look bigger than it is, and usually my hand would latch onto her bump, but my concern overrides my need to touch her right now.

“No, Casey. No. The baby’s fine. I’m fine.” She pushes her hair back from her face, every inch of her tense in a way that sets off all my internal fucking warning lights. “It’s just work. I told you. Things are busy and?—”

“That asshole still giving you a hard time?”

There it is again—that twitch. Her hand drops to her stomach.

“Everyone is under a lot of stress right now. End of month reports, some big clients in the wings—it’s taking a toll, that’s all.

” She gets out of bed, like she needs space.

From me. And I don’t fucking like that at all.

I watch every flicker as she moves to the dresser, pulling it open.

“The reports will be done by the end of the month and then things will calm down.”

She’s lying.

Why?

I slide off the bed, stepping in behind her as she fixes her panties in place. My hands instantly slide around her stomach, holding her against my chest. She interlaces her fingers with mine, holding me tight, like she’s afraid to let go.

“You’re stressed, quiet, tired, and not just from the pregnancy.”

She turns in my arms and wraps herself around me like she’s afraid I’ll vanish. I engulf her with arms, like I can stop her slipping away from me. Is she slipping?

“I like my job, Casey. I don’t want to leave it.”

The weight in her words is heavy. I grind my teeth. Every instinct I have is screaming to get her out of that place. Something happens to my wife when she walks through those doors, when she leaves me.

I lift her chin, my thumb and finger light against her skin. “I don’t like you being stressed. You’re pregnant.”

Her eyes soften just a fraction, and then she sighs. “Pregnant, not breakable, but I love you for worrying.”

She rolls to her toes, pressing her mouth to mine. I don’t hesitate. I never do with her. I kiss her like she’s my air, like there is no world in which I exist without her, because there is not. She’s everything to me, and I want to erase whatever is sucking her joy.

“I’m worried about you,” I admit.

Her hands rest on my chest. “You don’t need to be. I’m handling things.”

The way she says that flicks a switch in my brain. I pull back slightly, staring down at her, my heart thudding. “What exactly are you handling?”

She blows out a breath. “I didn’t mean it like that.

” Her words are tired, scraped as thin as she seems to be.

“I just mean I’m trying so hard to balance everything right now while my body fights me every step of the way.

” Her smile floors me. “Apparently I’m supposed to glow any day now.

” Her smile is genuine, but brittle. “Second trimester perks.”

“You are glowing. You’re fucking beautiful, babe. Even tired. Even stressed, you’re still perfection.”

“Now I know you’re lying.” But I’m not. I love every side of her, even the messy ones. She leans her head to my chest, her hands gripping my hips as she lets out a suffering groan. “I need to get ready. I love you. Please don’t worry about me.”

“Impossible.”

I take her to work in my truck, my gaze cutting between her and the road. The closer we get to her building the tighter her shoulders become.

When I stop the truck at the curb, I almost shove it back into drive and take her away again, but she’s already reaching for the door before I can do anything.

I get out with her, walking to her side of the car. There’s no sign of any discomfort or unease, so I thread my fingers through her hair, already a heartbeat from grabbing a can of gasoline and a box of matches to make sure she can’t come back here.

“Try to be good today.” She smiles as she says it.

“You need me at any point call. I’ll come right away, yeah?”

It’s not an empty promise. I mean it. “Thank you. I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll pick you up.” No way in hell am I letting her come home alone when she’s like this.

She kisses me, and there’s nothing hesitant in it, nothing that tells me the issue is between us. That calms some of the storm swirling inside me.

“Casey, I?—”

Her smile suddenly fades, her eyes focused just past me. I turn, following her line of sight even as I angle myself in front of her in case there’s danger.

A lean, preppy looking guy is heading into her building with his smug laptop bag slung over his shoulder like a badge of honor.

The press of his suit, the way his hair flops into his eyes—all of it instantly pisses me off.

It’s the kind of look that says corporate drone without a single independent thought of his own. Smug, self-righteous prick.

As if he knows he’s being watched, he turns, alert. It’s a primal nudge that a predator is close. His eyes find mine even across the space between us and there’s a beat where he falters as he locks onto me.

Scared little boy.

What does he have to be scared about?

Every warning light on my internal dashboard is fucking lit up as he hurries inside.

Lexi’s fingers curl into my shirt and my attention shifts back to hers.

“Is that your boss?” I ask, even though I already know the answer from her reaction.

“That’s James,” she confirms. “I better get inside. He’ll lose his mind if I’m late, especially since he saw me out here making out with my hot as sin husband.” She tries to smile but fails. I see through the watery attempt.

I wrap my hand around her nape. “He so much as raises his voice to you and I’ll feed him his fucking teeth.”

It’s not a threat. I’ll fucking kill him before I let him upset my wife.

“Okay, down, baby. I got this.” She pats my chest like it can soothe the beast rising within me. “I’ll see you later.”

My feet almost move with her, but I force stillness into my body. I have to trust that she can handle this—whatever it is—and if she can’t, I have to believe that she’ll tell me.