Chapter 6 Colt pressed his foot to the floor as he sped to Indie's. Thank God he wasn't far. Someone was in her house. Who? Why? When he got his hands on the asshole, they were a dead man. He turned right onto her street and parked behind her car in the driveway. Before getting out, he opened the glove box and took out his Glock. Then he was running. Sprinting to her front door. He grabbed the handle. Locked. Dammit. Quickly, he found his key. The second he stepped inside, quiet fell over him. Quiet and darkness. First he checked the living, dining, and kitchen areas to the right. Nothing immediately drew his attention. Didn't mean no one was here though. He tried the bedroom door, but it was locked. "Cricket? It's me." For a second there was silence. Then the soft pad of footsteps before the lock clicked. He stepped inside to see Indie wearing an old T-shirt of his, face pale. Relief hit him so hard in the midsection, air whooshed out of him. She was okay. He scanned her body, searching for injuries. There were none. None that he could see, anyway. He cupped her cheek. "Are you okay?" She nodded quickly, even though she looked far from okay. "The noises are coming from the kitchen." "Are coming? You've heard more?" She nodded, the move jerky. "Stay here. I'm going to find them." "Okay." He went to step away but stopped when she touched his arm. "Colt...be careful." "I'm always careful, Cricket. Lock the door after me." He cracked open the bedroom door and aimed his Glock. In the hall, he pulled the door closed behind him with a soft click. Noiselessly, he stepped into the living room. The darkness might be a problem for some, but he was so used to it that it was almost an advantage. How many missions had he done in the dead of night? Too many. He was just looking behind the couch when the crinkling of plastic sounded. The pantry. What the fuck was someone doing in there? Hiding? Getting ready to jump him? With silent steps, he inched into the kitchen. The door to the pantry was ajar. Another crackle noise cut through the quiet. Three more steps and he grabbed the handle. In one quick motion, he whipped the door open and aimed the Glock. Nothing. The fuck? The rustling sound came from nearby. Frowning, he holstered his Glock and lifted an oddly heavy box of cereal from a shelf. There was his culprit. A rat. A big one. He chuckled, closing the box so the animal couldn't escape. He didn't release the rat near the back door, instead going to the far corner of the yard before lowering it to the grass. The rodent scurried away. "I'm glad it was you, buddy. Didn't really feel like shooting anyone tonight." He'd just stepped back into the house when Indie entered the kitchen, pistol in hand. Her gaze darted around the room before returning to him. "Where is he?" "He was a rat." She frowned. "A rat?" "Yes, ma'am." She visibly exhaled, and she lowered the pistol to the counter before scrubbing a hand over her face. "I'm so sorry. I freaked out." "Hey, it was a big rat. You had every reason to call for backup." Her lips stretched into a smile, and even though it was small and tentative, it was the first smile she'd sent his way in over a year, and fuck, it made him breathless. "Thank you," she sighed. "You can call me anytime, day or night, rat or intruder or even just to talk. You know that." Even the fact that she'd called him tonight surprised the hell out of him. She could have called her brother. Or she could have called either of her cousins, Jesse or Becket. But she'd called him. Was it because even after everything she'd said, she knew it wasn't over between them? She cleared her throat. "Do you want some coffee?" "Sure." He never drank coffee at night. But if taking her up on her offer meant he got more time with her, then he'd drink an entire fucking pot of it. As she moved toward her pod machine, he watched the curve of her bare thighs stretching from beneath the T-shirt. His T-shirt. Did she realize she wasn't wearing pants? Or was she so used to him that she didn't care? Either way, the sight of all that smooth skin made his cock turn to stone. He forced his gaze away, only to catch sight of a folder on the counter. Amber Ridge Fertility Center. Why was that there? "Is this one of the old folders from when we were doing IVF?" He lifted it and opened the folder, just as Indie turned. She gasped. "No, wait..." It was too late. He frowned at the first page. At the big bold heading that read: "Sperm Donors." What the hell? He turned over to the next page...and sure enough, there was a whole damn bio of information on a guy. Indie rushed forward and pulled the folder from his fingers. "You weren't supposed to see that." "You're doing IVF with a sperm donor?" Jesus, saying the words out loud tasted like acid on his tongue. "No. I went to an information session at the clinic the other day, just to explore the option." "Having a baby with a man who isn't your husband is an option for you?" She was his wife, and she was thinking about having another man's baby? Fuck no. Her mouth opened and closed. "Colt, we're separated. And I still want a baby." "Separated but still married, Cricket." "I'm almost thirty-five. I want to be a mother." "Well, let's make a baby then." His words came out too loud. Too angry. But he couldn't stop them. She scrubbed her hands over her face again. "We tried. We tried for so long that it destroyed us." "It didn't destroy us." "It destroyed me!" She looked back at him. "The physical and mental toll it took on me...I can't even explain it. It broke me. I felt broken. And I thought maybe if I tried by myself, it might be different. Easier." He couldn't stop himself. He closed the space between them and gripped her waist. "I know it was hard. And I'm so damn sorry I couldn't be here as much as you needed me. But I'm here now. And if you want to do another round of IVF, I'll do it with you and hold your hand every step of the way. I have nowhere I'd rather be. I would do anything for you, Cricket." Tears pooled in her eyes. "I've missed you." Her eyes widened like she hadn't meant to say those words out loud. "You have no idea. I told myself I was okay, but the second I saw you, I remembered what okay was supposed to feel like." Her breath hitched. Then suddenly, her hands moved up his chest-and she pulled his head down and kissed him. And the second her lips touched his, he could breathe for the first time in over a year. Indie was kissing Colt. She hadn't kissed him in over a year, yet everything about him felt so achingly familiar. His soft lips against hers. The power in his arms as they wrapped around her. It was the kind of familiar she wanted to fall into. Let it envelop her. Sweep her away to that place that was for just the two of them. Her lips separated and he dove in, his tongue tangling with hers, claiming her. His kisses had always felt like more of a claim. Like he knew she was his and he was telling her with his entire body. There was never any hesitation. And right now, it felt like he was trying to take every moment they'd lost over the last year and make up for each one. Hold her tighter. Explore her deeper. She groaned at the taste of him-it always reminded her of the rain. Soft and grounding. Rich. But there was also sweetness there. It was all so infinitely unique to Colt. She wove her fingers through his hair. Soft locks that were in such contradiction to the hardness of the rest of him. He spun them and lifted her to the island. Then he was between her thighs, the thin material of her shirt bunched around her waist. And she felt him right there, hard and long, pressing to her core, making desire flare in her lower belly. It was as though that year of distance just disappeared. The unsent text messages. The unspoken words and lost touches... All of it just gone. And she was in her husband's arms. The man she'd loved since she was a teenager. His mouth skimmed down her cheek, then her neck. Every kiss like fire against her skin, leaving a burning trail. When his head reached her chest, her breath caught. Then he was cupping her breast before his lips wrapped around her pebbled nipple through her shirt. She opened her mouth to cry out, but the air was so thick, no sound came out. She latched onto his hair, tugging and pulling, trying to keep herself still even though her entire body wanted to move and writhe against him. When his teeth grazed the bud, she threw her head back and gasped. He'd always known exactly how to touch her to make her wild. She wrapped her legs around him and hauled his hips closer. She was so deep in her lust for Colt that she didn't feel the cool air against her chest until he switched to her other breast, this time taking her bare nipple between his lips. And suddenly she was lost, unsure how to find her way back to reality. How to touch her feet to the ground again or see anything outside of her husband. She was just reaching for the button of his jeans when he lifted his head and touched his forehead to hers. "Indie...we should stop." Everything was such a haze that she had to play his words over in her head a couple of times to make sense of them. "Stop?" "I don't want to rush this. I want you, all of you, body and soul. And I want to do that properly. Slowly. I want to earn back your trust." Even though he was right there, not having his mouth on her skin felt like a bucket of cold water on her head. And bit by bit, reality began to slip back in. Oh God... She'd just made out with Colt. She'd gone on and on about how they were separated...and the second time seeing him, she was ready to jump back into bed with the man. What was wrong with her? She pushed against his chest and he stepped back. His eyes stayed on her as she slid off the counter and made sure her shirt covered her body. "You're right. Of course you're right. I'm s-" "Don't say you're sorry. I'm sure as hell not. I love you, Cricket. And touching you, making love to you, is the most natural thing in the world." She met his intense black gaze and almost couldn't breathe. "You're my wife," he said slowly, like she needed measured words to understand. "And we will work our way back to where we were. Eventually." She couldn't respond. She didn't have words. Because he'd said it like a vow. Like she was still his and that was all there was to it. He scanned the room. "Are you okay?" Okay? Was hot and bothered with a pulsing need in her belly okay? "Yes," she lied. "Do you want me to stay?" She forced herself to shake her head. They both knew exactly what would happen if he did that. And he was right. They couldn't just fall into old ways. They had to be better. He stepped forward, causing her heart to crash against her ribs. Slowly, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, one that made a million butterflies take off in her belly. "Lock up after me." The words were soft, then he crossed to the door. He spared her one more intense glance over his shoulder before he stepped out. Her knees suddenly felt so weak that she almost slid to the floor. She didn't. She forced her knees to lock and followed his path to the door, where she flicked the lock. Then she pressed her temple to the wood, wondering what the hell she was going to do next.