The third, she thought as she spread grout on the floor, was scary. To frighten her. You're lost, you're alone, you're pregnant.
Been there, she reflected.
Then the pain, the blood. Like a miscarriage, she realized. Losing the baby. But she hadn't lost her baby, and he was protected.
What if Kane didn't know? Struck, she sat back on her haunches. What if he didn't know Simon was protected? Wouldn't his first threat to her revolve around the most precious thing in her life, the one thing she would die to keep safe?
"Zoe."
The sponge she'd been using to spread the grout fell on the tiles with a plop.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you." Brad stayed in the doorway, one shoulder resting on the jamb. As he'd been standing for the last several minutes, watching her.
A lot going on inside that head, he knew. He'd seen all of it run over her face.
"No, that's okay." She bent back to the work. "I'm nearly finished here."
"The rest of the crew's about to break for lunch."
"Okay. I'll be down as soon as I'm done. It'll give the grout a chance to dry."
He waited until she'd worked her way over, was half in, half out of the doorway. Then he crouched. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"
Her hand hesitated, then picked up the rhythm again. "What do you mean?"
"I've spent enough time looking at you to know when something's going on inside. Tell me what happened since yesterday, Zoe."
"I will." She put the sponge in the bucket she'd set just outside the room. "But not just you."
"Did he hurt you?" He grabbed her hand, used his free one to tilt her face around.
"No. Let go. My hands are all covered with grout."
"But he did something." His tone had chilled, the way it did when he was chaining down temper. "Why haven't you said anything?"
"I just wanted some time to think about it, work some of it out, that's all. It'll b
e easier for me to tell everybody about it all at once." His hand was still cupping her cheek. And his face was very close. "It'd be easier for me, too, if you wouldn't touch me that way right now."
"Right now?" He trailed his fingers back to the nape of her neck. "Or ever?"
She wanted to stretch into that hand and purr. "Let's start with now."
She started to push to her feet, but he was already up, her hand still caught in his as he drew her up beside him. "Just tell me this—Simon's okay?"
She could fight attraction. She could even fight the sexual buzz. But she was going to have a very hard time fighting his obvious and deep concern for her son.
"Yes. He's fine. He really wanted to come today. He likes being with you—with all of you," she added quickly. "But I didn't want to talk about this in front of him. At least, not yet."
"Then let's go down and talk about it, and I'll come by and see him later this week."
"You don't have to—"
"I like being with him, too. With both of you." He brushed the side of her throat, her shoulder. "Maybe you could invite me to dinner again."
"Well, I…"
"Tomorrow. How about tomorrow?"