Stolen Course (Wrecked and Ruined #2)

“How do you feel about me being pregnant?”


“I have no fucking idea. I wish I could tell you I’m giddy with excitement, but that would be a lie. I just don’t know. On one hand, I love you. On the other, we’re not exactly in the best place right now, and adding a baby to the mix just seems like a clusterfuck.” He answers honestly, and even though he’s right, it still hurts to hear him say it. This isn’t how this was supposed to happen, but it’s not like either one of us can change it now.

“You should know you can be as involved or uninvolved as you want. I don’t want you to feel trapped, and Hunter said—”

“Fuck Hunter! If the next words out of your mouth have anything to do with him and my baby, I can’t be held responsible for how I react.”

“You’re acting like a dick.” I sit up with a full-blown smile spread wide across my face. “I’ve missed you. You’re such an ass, but I’ve really fucking missed it.”

“God, Emmy. You have no idea how hard the last two months have been.”

I finally give in, and against my better judgment and all rational thinking, I lean forward and touch my mouth to his. I figured Caleb would devour me, but the slow, soft kiss he places on my lips is even better.

With his eyes wide open, his perfect lips move across my mouth. He slides a hand into my hair and the other around my back, forcing me against his chest. I go more than willingly. I move to straddle him, needing a connection. Even the one inch of space between us is too much. I need more.

“I need you, Caleb.” I move to unbuckle his jeans, but he grabs my hands.

“Not yet, Emmy. I want this figured out. All of it. Because I want you to know that when I touch you this time, I will never ever let you go again.”

“Okay.” I drop my forehead against his, but as my one last show of rebellion, I roll my hips against his hard cock.

“Stop,” he growls, taking my lips in another gentle kiss.

“All right, all right. Where should we start? The baby?” I peek at him through my lashes, not quite sure I want to have this conversation at all.

“I love you. And this is shitty timing, but I think as long as I have you, we can deal with the rest of it together.” He lets out a sigh and rubs his thumb across my cheek.

I look around the room, trying to avoid his gorgeous blue eyes. I know I’m going to cry the minute I land on them.

I try to collect myself but continue to look down. “What about Sarah? Avoiding her didn’t exactly work out so well. I can’t just sit by and watch you spend hours chasing dead ends that may or may not ruin her.”

“Now this is where it gets tricky.” He touches my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. “Emma, I hate her. I will for the rest of my life for what she did—what she took from me. The blame game is a slippery slope, and I can’t seem to find my way off it. You have always been amazing about my past—about Manda. You were even understanding to a point about the way I feel about Sarah. I think that’s why I love you so much. You’re so confident and strong, which is basically the exact opposite of me these days.

“So here it is. I want this with you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen. You can’t ask me to like Sarah, but you can ask me to stop obsessing about the hate. So ask.” He stops talking, but my eyes go blurry. Of all the things I expected from Caleb, the words that just came out of his mouth were my absolute best-case scenario. Ones I never even dared to dream about. “Ask,” he urges me as the tears escape my eyes.

“Stop with the box. Stop trying to break her. If you succeed, it would break me too.”

“So. Ask,” he repeats once again, waiting for me to find the right question.

“Love me more than you hate her. Please,” I plead.

A small smile creeps across his face and he uses the pads of his thumbs to wipe under my eyes. “I can do that.”

He suddenly stands with me in his arms and strides across the room to the bed. Gently laying me down, he positions himself on top of me, careful to avoid resting his weight on my stomach.

As he trails kisses up my neck, he stops at my ear and whispers, “I tossed the box the day you mailed back the ring.”

“What?” I breathe in disbelief.

“I’ve been trying to get my shit together so that when I came for you, you couldn’t say no. You had no idea, but I never planned to let you go despite your little ‘move on’ text.”

“What text?” I scratch my nails down the back of his neck.

“The text you sent that night.”

“Ah, that was Hunter. I didn’t trust myself with my phone. I knew you would text when you got the package.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I really hate that guy.”

“He did tell me you regretted trying.”

“I’d apologize, but I think you know I’m a dick by now.” He slides a hand teasingly under the edge of my shirt. “And apparently you missed it.” He gives me a wink.