Sex.
Cutter winced. “I wouldn’t ask you to.”
Brea breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t interested in getting naked and sweaty with her, either. Thank goodness.
But what would they do about intimacy? About the fact that, despite everything, her heart belonged to a man he despised?
She bit her lip. “I guess if we lived in Lafayette, and you were discreet…”
“What about you?” he asked. “What will you do when you need a man to touch—”
“Pray. Meditate. Garden. Work. I won’t…” She couldn’t imagine another man near her. Brea only ached for Pierce. Yes, giving in to him had created this mess, and if she ever saw him again she would have to guard against her foolish yearnings. But she already knew her heart would never belong to anyone else. “I’ll be fine.”
Cutter stopped at a red light and sent her a narrow-eyed glare. “There’s something you’re not telling me. Did Walker hurt you?”
How stunned would he be if she told him that Pierce had given her such sublime pleasure and made her feel so much like a woman that she’d never once thought of resisting? “Leave it, Cutter.”
“I won’t let that son of a bitch get away with what he’s done. He took advantage of you. He caused you anguish. Goddamn it—”
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” she snapped, mostly because it was something they generally agreed on.
“Figure of speech, Bre-bee. Stop derailing me. I want to know every way he harmed you so I can make him pay. Now.”
She shrank back into her seat because he didn’t really want the truth. “Doesn’t it always hurt the first time?”
“Other than that, was he too rough? Did he bruise you? Use you too hard? Too often?” Cutter ground his teeth together.
Brea tried not to blush. Pierce had spent half that night inside her and he hadn’t held back. And she’d loved it.
“Talk to me.” He sounded exasperated. “Did he spank you or bind you or—”
“Stop.” Those words sent images spinning through her head. Had Pierce wanted to do such things to her? How would they have felt? Why did she ache so badly to know? “Whatever he may or may not have done, I’m all right. I went to him for help and he did exactly what I asked. Nothing else matters.”
At least as far as Cutter should be concerned.
He finally gave up his awkward questions. “All right. I won’t pry. Just tell me what you want to do.”
“I need to think. I suspected I was pregnant, but hearing the doctor confirm it was a shock.”
“I know. My offer stands. Getting married will quell the gossip. We can spin the wedding as two friends who’ve realized they’re in love.”
“I hate lying to everyone…”
“I do, too. But the truth will ruin you and tear your father apart. There are no good options here, so we have to pick the best of a bad bunch.”
Brea feared he was right. “How do we convince anyone that we’re romantic?”
“One step at a time. Worry about you and the baby first. How many weeks along are—”
“Thirteen.”
Certainly he could do the math. He knew exactly when she’d gone to Pierce. And there was no question he’d gotten her pregnant after the hostage standoff that hot August night.
That same math brought home the fact that, even if she and Cutter married today, the minute her baby was born, Sunset would be filled with speculation and innuendo. How much longer before her pregnancy showed? Right now, she was able to hide the developing bulge of her tummy…but how long would that last?
“Don’t take too long to decide or people will figure it out.”
“I know. Thank you. Do you have an assignment next week?”
“Yeah. Originally, Logan Edgington scheduled me to keep an eye out on a former FBI director who’s coming to New Orleans for reasons I’m not supposed to know or care about. But he’s rescheduled, so Jolie—you know, the clothing designer I worked for last week?”
“The one whose offices you were almost killed in?” She hated the thought of him going back there.
But wherever he went, the job was dangerous.
“You’re overreacting. I got whacked in the head at the urinal.” He rolled his eyes at himself. “Anyway, she asked me to go bodyguard some pampered celebrity friend of hers for a week or two in LA. But I’ll be back for Thanksgiving. I think we should get married then.”
Brea didn’t want to make them both miserable, but she wasn’t seeing many other options. “I would offer to divorce you after the baby is born but…”
She couldn’t, at least until her father had passed. Even then, she felt squeamish about putting asunder that which God hath joined. But she would have to let Cutter go eventually. She couldn’t keep him trapped in a loveless marriage for the rest of his life.
“We’ll worry about that later. For now, think about what I’ve said.”
She nodded. “Can we skip lunch? I’m not up to it.”
Her energy levels had bounced back, but her morning sickness was still an everyday, all-day reality. And more than anything, Brea wanted to be alone.
Cutter looked hesitant, but he finally nodded.
When he reached the street on which they’d both grown up, he parked between their childhood homes and leaned across the cab of the truck to kiss her forehead.
She met him halfway and brought him in for a sisterly hug. “Thank you for everything.”
“No, thank you. I hated to admit this to Walker, but I probably wouldn’t be alive today if you hadn’t persuaded him to help me. I know what that cost you.” He sighed as if it pained him to admit that. “So let me take care of you in return.”
None of this was his fault or his doing, but what other choice did she have? “We’ll talk soon.”
“Brea…”
With a shake of her head and a wave, she headed inside to think about her future and make plans—without Pierce.
Chapter Four
Thursday, November 13
Brea sat across the dinner table from her father, uncomfortably aware of his probing stare. “More mashed potatoes, Daddy?”
“You finish up the last few spoonfuls. I think you need it.”
“I’m fine.” She tried to keep calm, but Daddy had been asking gently loaded questions for the last few minutes and she was desperate to change the subject. “Tell me how Tom’s new youth group is doing. Last time I had two minutes to rub together, he was really just getting it going. There seemed to be a lot of enthusiasm—”
“It’s fine, and right now that’s not my concern. We haven’t spoken much since the morning you agreed to stop seeing that man. Has he contacted you?”
Daddy didn’t mean to rub at her sore spot, but even thinking about Pierce made her ache. “No.”
“Do you regret your decision?”
If Pierce had come home from his last-minute mission, adequately explained why he’d killed his father, embraced their coming baby, and vowed to love her for the rest of her life, Daddy would still have pressured her to give him up. But she would have refused for the man she loved.