Chapter 76

I spin around, my breath catching in my throat. Ethan Blackwood stands behind me, his presence like a sudden storm on a clear day.

Could this day get any worse? I groan inwardly, my fingers tightening around the strap of my purse.

"Ethan?" My voice comes out sharper than intended. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Of all the places, of all the moments—why now, when I'm frozen in front of a neon-lit sex shop? The universe must be laughing at me.

His lips quirk, eyes flickering past me to the display window. "I could ask you the same thing."

Heat floods my cheeks. There’s no way to explain this away. The shop’s window gleams with an array of vibrators, leather cuffs, and things I don’t even want to name.

I swallow hard, forcing my gaze back to him. "I was just... shopping for maternity clothes. And baby things."

His eyebrow arches. "In this store? Unless you're planning something very creative with those silicone toys, I don’t think you’ll find what you need here."

The amusement in his tone makes my stomach twist. Since when does Ethan Blackwood tease me?

I don’t dignify that with a response. Instead, I pivot on my heel and march away. But of course, he follows, matching my pace effortlessly.

"I didn’t take you for the type to use toys," he muses, voice low.

I stop dead in my tracks.

"First of all," I hiss, whirling on him, "you don’t know anything about me. You never bothered to. And second—what’s wrong with a woman taking care of her own needs? Or is that concept too shocking for your fragile ego?"

His eyes darken, but I don’t wait for a reply. I speed-walk away, my pulse hammering.

Just when I think I’ve lost him, his voice cuts through the air. "Sophia."

I halt, gritting my teeth. "What?"

He gestures to a boutique a few feet away. "Here’s a maternity store. Since that’s actually what you’re looking for."

Damn him.

Grudgingly, I stomp toward the shop, but the second he moves to follow, I throw my arm out. "What are you doing?"

"Isn’t it obvious?" He smirks. "Helping you shop."

"I don’t need your help. Turn around and walk away."

He doesn’t. Instead, he steps so close I can feel the heat of his body. "I’m staying. And you’re going to try on every damn dress in this store. Get used to it."

My jaw drops. The audacity.

Before I can unleash my fury, a cheerful voice interrupts. "Hello! How can I help you two today?"

Ethan answers before I can. "My wife needs maternity clothes."

Wife?!

I nearly choke. "I am not—"

But the clerk, Abigail, beams. "Right this way! We just got in some gorgeous pieces."

Ethan grabs my wrist, tugging me inside before I can correct her.

Seated on a plush sofa, I glare at him. "What the hell was that?"

He leans back, infuriatingly calm. "What was what?"

"Calling me your wife! Have you forgotten we’re divorced? Or that you’re with Isabella now?"

Abigail returns with an armful of dresses. "Let’s start with this one."

It’s a stunning maxi dress. If I weren’t seething, I’d admire it.

"Go try it on," Ethan orders.

I snatch the dress and storm to the fitting room.

The moment I slip it on, my anger fades. The fabric drapes perfectly over my curves, accentuating my baby bump. I love it.

I call Abigail for the next outfit—a breezy sundress that looks just as good.

But as I’m about to try on jeans, the door creaks open.

It’s not Abigail.

Ethan steps inside, holding a blue top. I freeze, clad only in my bra and panties.

"What the hell?" I whirl, trying to cover myself with the nearest dress.

His gaze drags over me, slow and deliberate. It feels like a touch, and it makes my skin prickle.

He drops the top and moves toward me, almost trance-like.

Before I can react, he cages me against the mirror. His breath is uneven, his eyes burning with something I refuse to name.

His fingers trace my lips, then my neck, before lingering on my cleavage.

"They’re bigger than I remember," he murmurs, voice rough.

"Back off," I whisper.

He doesn’t. His hand drifts lower, pushing the dress aside to rest on my stomach.

Our breaths sync—mine shallow, his ragged.

Then I see it.

Desire. Raw and undeniable.

I shove him away, my pulse roaring in my ears.

He blinks, as if snapping out of a dream.

"Sophia—"

"Don’t." I yank my clothes on and bolt.

Outside, I gulp the fresh air, my mind reeling.

Ethan Blackwood has never looked at me like that.

So why now?

And why did it feel like he wanted to devour me whole?