Page 12 of Laced With Secrets
CHAPTER FOUR
Iwoke to the sound of muffled voices from the living area of Blake’s penthouse. The guest bedroom—my bedroom—was still dim with early morning light filtering through heavy curtains. The sheets beside me were cold, empty in a way that made my omega instincts uncomfortable.
Dominic had been sleeping on Blake’s couch for nine days now. The moral weight of what he’d done sat heavy between us, yet my traitorous body ached for him. Each night alone intensified the hollow feeling beneath my ribs. Every day, the desire to invite him to return to my bed hovered unspoken. But doubt froze the words in my throat.
Would crossing the distance make me seem fragile, desperate? He’d remained steadfast in his conviction, offering no acknowledgment of wrongdoing for the choices he’d made—choices he’d told me he would make again. If I surrendered now, what precedent would it set for us? For our future?
I pulled on my oversized cream sweater and soft jeans, checking my reflection automatically. At ten weeks pregnant, there wasn’t much visible difference yet, but I examined my profile fromevery angle anyway. The loose sweater would hide any subtle changes for a few more weeks.
Following the sound of quiet movement and the rich aroma of coffee, I found both Dominic and Blake in the kitchen area, already dressed for their respective video conferences despite the early hour. Blake was reviewing something on his tablet while Dominic prepared what looked like his third cup of coffee, both of them moving with the careful efficiency of people trying not to wake others in the apartment.
The couch cushions behind Dominic were rumpled, a pillow and blanket folded neatly on one end—evidence of another night spent apart.
The moment Dominic sensed my presence, those cool gray eyes lifted to meet mine with immediate attention. Blake glanced up briefly, offered a nod of acknowledgment, then diplomatically retreated toward his home office with his tablet and coffee.
“Morning,” Dominic said softly, setting aside his own coffee. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.” The lie came automatically, though the truth was I’d spent half the night tossing and turning, my inner omega screaming for my alpha’s proximity. The pregnancy made the separation worse—my body needed his scent, his presence, his touch in ways I couldn’t fully control.
He moved around the kitchen island with careful precision, maintaining distance while preparing the ginger tea he’d taken to making me every morning. The consideration in the gesture made my throat tight, even as the space between us felt like a physical ache.
“Lemon slice?” I asked, accepting the warm mug when he slid it across the counter rather than handing it to me directly.
“And one cube of sugar.” His hand retreated quickly, respecting the boundaries I’d insisted on. “Your appetite’s been better the past few days.”
The observation was careful, clinical almost. As if he was trying to care for me while honoring my demand for space, even though I could feel through our bond how much the separation was costing him.
I should tell him to come back to bed, I thought suddenly. Just open my mouth and say the words:I’m tired of being apart like this. Come back to our nest. Come back to me.
But the words stuck in my throat, just like the pregnancy confession I’d tried to make so many times now I’d lost count. My mouth wouldn’t form them, my voice wouldn’t cooperate, and the frustration of it made me want to throw something.
What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I just say what I needed?
“What time are your meetings?” I asked instead, deflecting.
“Starting at nine.” He leaned against the far counter, his focus entirely on me. “Three back-to-back video conferences with investors about a couple of properties up north. Should be finished by noon.”
The silence stretched between us, each breath weighted with unspoken words. Dominic’s eyes held mine, his fingers flexing against the counter edge. The kitchen suddenly felt smaller somehow.
Penny’s footsteps broke the tension as he bounced into the kitchen, far too bright-eyed and bouncy for barely seven in the morning.
“Morning, you two,” he chirped, his gaze flicking to me with expectant energy. “You ready to go?”
“Yes,” I said, already moving off the stool, grateful for the escape from my own inability to communicate what I actually wanted.
“Leo.” Dominic’s voice stopped me. When I turned back, he was gripping the counter edge, his knuckles white. “I’ll pick you up for lunch when my meetings finish. Noon.”
It wasn’t quite a demand, but close. His alpha instincts clearly struggling with letting me leave at all.
“We can call Marc?—”
“Leo.” His voice was gentle but implacable.
The underlying protectiveness and raw vulnerability in his tone with that one word—my name—made my chest ache.
Come back to bed tonight,I wanted to say.I miss you. I need you.
Penny’s curious gaze darted between us as he poured steaming coffee into a travel mug. Now wasn’t the right time.