Prologue
Kelly stumbled to his feet, head swinging wildly back and forth as he took in the scenery around him.
Where am I?
He didn’t have an answer to that question. He knew it was important, but nothing he could see was even vaguely familiar. The darkness surrounding him was quiet, shot through here and there by moonbeams that failed to illuminate much more than the pine boughs through which they filtered.
He was naked, but nudity had become such a natural state it wasn’t worth the brain cells needed to truly catalog it. He was also aching all over, and one of his eyes wouldn’t work right. The tissue was sore to the touch, enough to make his eyes water when he pressed a fingertip against the damaged flesh. A rigid stiffness in his muscles informed him that he’d likely been lying on the forest floor for a while. An image flashed through his head of a white trash bag caught on a bush or fence. Shaking his head, he pushed past the fear and pain, trying to stay focused on what was most critical.
Gotta save Shiloh.
He could hear no noises, not even a hoot from an owl to break the stillness. The stark lack of sound raised the hairs on his arms.
He turned in a slow circle, unsure of what direction to go but struck with the knowledge that he couldn’t stay here. Wherever “here” was.
There.
Something flickered in the distance, small and close to the ground, hidden now and again as the wind gusted. It was a tiny blue flame that drew him in. As he got closer, he saw it was a camp stove, similar to one he’d seen used on a long-ago camping trip.
He was closer yet when he saw how light reflected on the face of the man seated on the other side. Even without speaking or calling out, he knew the man was watching him, had seen him, probably since he’d taken the first step.
“Please.” Kelly stumbled, toes tangling on a root that threatened to take his legs out from under him. He stayed on his feet with effort, groaning aloud at how the pain in his head swelled with the movement.
“Hey. What’s going on?” The voice was quiet and low, probably meant to be calming. But threaded through the sound, Kelly heard the tension of alarm, not out of place from a man startled by the sudden appearance of a stranger at his campsite.
Unconcerned with his own nakedness or injuries, uncaring that the man towered over him when he stood, unflinching as the man’s gaze cataloged each of Kelly’s many injuries, Kelly stood and trembled with fear for Shiloh.
“Mister.” His voice wavered, and that was another thing Kelly couldn’t muster any unease for—he had to push through. Shiloh is the only thing that matters now. “You gotta help me.” Kelly stumbled again, and the man reached out for him, fingers wrapping around Kelly’s arm to guide him past the tiny flame that had stood as a beacon in the night. Warmth surrounded him, a softer comfort than he could ever remember experiencing. “You gotta save my sister.”
Chapter One
Alace
“I don’t like this.” She tipped her head backwards, hanging it over the top edge of the chair as she stretched out her muscles. “It feels alien.”
“It’s natural as life, beloved.” Eric’s tone was amused, and Alace lifted a hand to flip him off. He chuckled, and then the heat of his hands settled on her stomach, the baby beachball protruding from her body cradled between his palms. “Braxton-Hicks contractions are the body’s way of getting ready for the main event.”
“I’m not doing anything, just working away, and then suddenly my body decides to take over. I don’t like this.” She raised her head and glared down at Eric as he pressed a kiss to her belly. He wasn’t even attempting to stifle his chuckles. “You’re breathing funny. Stop it.”
“Alace, it’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that. You can’t know how it’s going to be. I’ve read that the alien contractions can go on for months.” The authority websites she’d looked up had been scary when they got into the topic. She’d found that militant mommies posting their stories online didn’t make for the most restful reading material. “I don’t want that.”
“Then it’s a good thing you only have weeks, not months to go.” He kissed her belly again, fingers stroking along either side, traveling down, then up, leaving calmness and relaxed muscles in their wake. “Let me get my coat off and I’ll rub your feet and legs.”
“My ankles are swollen again, aren’t they?” Alace threatened to lift her feet into Eric’s crotch as he crouched in front of her, but he grinned and intercepted them in mid-swing. “I can’t even see them unless I contort like a…like a…contortionist. My brain stopped working today too, apparently. I can’t think of a better word than that.”
“Pregnancy brain. Hormones are a real thing.” He nodded and stood, shrugging out of his suitcoat to reveal the width of his shoulders. Her mouth grew dry as his hands deftly rolled up his sleeves to show off sinewy forearms. The juxtaposition of bare skin against fabric and a span of chest and stomach she suddenly wanted access to were a combination she couldn’t resist. Won’t even try.
“Take off the shirt, too.”
He laughed and complied with her demand, turned towards the dresser in their bedroom, and draped the shirt there while he hung the coat over the doorknob. This uncovered the spread of skin and toned muscles that made up his broad back.
“I wanna make love.”
He’d gotten used to her abrupt and blunt requests over the past few months, but the darkening hunger in his eyes when he turned back to her left Alace breathless. “My baby need me?”
“Yes.” She scooted her butt to the front of the chair, then used the arms to lever herself into a sitting position. Feet flat on the floor, she pushed with legs and arms until she was upright. Standing on the toes of her socks, she removed them one at a time, then shoved her stretchy maternity pants down her legs, taking panties along with them. “Yes, I do.”
An hour later, they were lounging together in bed, Alace wrapped around Eric as much as she could manage with the beachball belly in the way. He’d rucked up her shirt and had a hand on her hip, fingers drawing mindless figures against her skin. In the past week, her breasts had begun leaking during sex, and she didn’t like how it felt, so she’d kept on the shirt and nursing bra, complete with pads. No matter how she came to their bed, Eric simply rolled with it, never asking for more than she was willing to give.
“Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you had a normal wife?”
Shit.
She stilled, hoping he’d ignore her question. Wrong thing to say, idiot. When he shifted and placed a folded knuckle underneath her chin to lift her face, she knew she was out of luck.
“Define normal. I can’t make an assessment unless I know we’re speaking about the same traits and behaviors.”
Alace rolled her eyes. There he goes, gettin’ all lawyerly on me.
“No, Alace. You can’t make a statement like that and then expect I won’t want to dig into it at least a little.”
“Just, you know. Normal. Like, in the head and stuff.” His lips made a tiny moue she wanted to kiss, but she closed her eyes instead. “Someone you can be proud of and stuff. You know what?” She shook her head but was careful not to dislodge the pressure he held against her chin. “Never mind. Pregnancy brain, like you said.”