Read Shadowed Heart for Free Online

she just went into the bathroom. “I’d be asleep by the time you got back.”
    Oh.
    As the water ran behind the closed door, he looked at her laptop. Then sideways at the bathroom door.
    He’d never, ever invaded her privacy this way before. But then, well—she’d never actually slapped her laptop closed when he came into the room with guilty haste before either.
    What was she looking at, mommy porn?
    He’d gathered vague impressions of women’s sex drives changing while they were pregnant—mostly from unmarried line cooks who liked to fantasize out loud while they were working, so he wasn’t sure how accurate his information was. Still, just because Summer might be embarrassed by some new little fantasy she was having didn’t mean he would be. In fact, he’d kind of like to be prepared to surprise her with the satisfaction of it.
    Maybe tonight. While it was fresh in her mind.
    Refusing to acknowledge any other possible reason for invading her privacy, he opened the laptop enough to peek at her screen.
    MISCARRIAGE said the main tab, and the blast of it froze him to the marrow. He slammed the screen closed. What ?
    He knocked on the bathroom door. “Summer? Are you okay?”
    “I’ll be out in a minute!” she called, her voice strained.
    “Is everything all right? Do you feel all right?”
    “ No! ” she snapped. “Luc, go away!”
    And then ragged, horrible sounds.
    He shoved the door open, and Summer was crouched over the toilet, body wrenching miserably.
    Oh, fuck. He landed beside her on his knees, wrapping his arms around her. “Summer. Summer.”
    “Luc, go away ,” she wailed, and had to gag again. “Don’t look at me like this,” she said miserably, sagging against his arms and the toilet seat, turning her face away as she tried to wipe it.
    “Shh,” he said, stroking the back of her neck, twisting her hair out of the way. This he could do. Hold her, no matter what went wrong. He could do that. “Is something wrong? Should I call 112?” Is this a miscarriage? Oh, fuck.
    “I just stood up too fast, I think,” she said, still trying to hide her face from him. She flushed the toilet and closed the lid, trying to shut it all away. “I think this is what people call morning sickness.”
    “It’s the middle of the night!”
    “My mother said it could be any time of the day.”
    “You asked your mother for advice?” Hell. That couldn’t be good.
    She looked up at him miserably, still pale and damp from the bout of vomiting. “I don’t have anyone else to ask, Luc.”
    They’d only been here three months. And Summer had always had a hard time making female friends. His heart twisted. Except on that island. She was surrounded by friends on that island.
    “We’ll get some books.” He lifted Summer up in his arms as he stood and carried her the two feet to the sink, then supported her as she washed her face. “You’re all right, aren’t you? You feel”—he touched her belly delicately, all he could bring himself to do, as if he, who could handle the most fragile filament of spun sugar without breaking it, might suddenly do clumsy harm—“all right?”
    This breakable sensation to his happiness was waking up every crazy part of him.
    She bumped him back from her. “Will you go away and let me brush my teeth?” she said, embarrassed.
    Well, he could understand why she would be embarrassed. He kissed her nape. “I love you,” he whispered and left her to it.
    That kind of put paid to the mommy porn fantasies, he thought, as he settled back onto his side of the bed. Still, he was glad he’d been able to help. He had helped a little bit, right? Even though it was her body that had wrenched helplessly. Even though he had knelt there perfectly fine, while she suffered. Even though she’d pushed him away.
    Shit, he wished he could have helped.
    He closed his eyes. Focusing on the nape of her neck as he had kissed it. Worrying about her worry about miscarriages. Trying not to think