Her smile faded and her eyebrows arched high. “You have no idea.”
He waited. “Meaning?”
“Well... I—You...” She cleared her throat, turning her attention back to the contents of the refrigerator. “Are you hungry? Clara makes an amazing chicken pot pie.” She pulled a foil-wrapped dish out and placed it on the counter, her movements awkward and jerky. Renewed tension rolled off her as she pulled two plates from the cabinet.
“Sounds good.”
“Right. Coffee?” she asked, scooping a piece of pot pie onto each plate. “Or sweet tea? Water? Anything?”
“Water’s fine.” He cleared his throat. “We okay to talk in here?”
“Talk? Now?” She slammed the microwave with a surprising amount of force. “If you insist.”
He chuckled again. What had he said to get her all fired up again? Still, now that he’d suggested it, he didn’t know where to start. So he dove right in. “I’m guessing you didn’t tell anyone about...us—that night.”
“I did. The whole family—over breakfast the next morning.” She shot him a look. “Of course not. It’s no one’s business. Besides, it was one night. We’re adults. We can do what we want, without explanation.” Her eyes locked with his. “And that night was something we both wanted.”
He nodded, his throat tightening.
“And now?” She pressed her eyes shut. “My brothers wouldn’t be happy if they knew. And, since you’re going to be working with them—living here—it’s probably best if they never know. Don’t you think?” The microwave started to beep, making her jump. Her laugh was nervous.
He nodded, watching her. Brittle. Upset. Like something was right under the surface, about to break through.
“The thing is...” She drew in a deep breath. “If it does, I mean... Possibly. Come up...” She opened the microwave, pulled the plate out and offered it to him. “You’ll deny it?” Was she asking him? Or herself? She turned away, putting her plate in the microwave and watching it warm.
Ash stared at her. “Is that what you want me to do?” His personal life was his own, but he could never live a bald-faced lie. Was that what she was asking him to do? The longer she stared at the microwave, the whiter her face grew. She was scared to death. “Is my being here going to cause a problem?”
“I don’t think so,” she murmured, glancing at him.
Not comforting. He waited, hoping she’d say more. But she didn’t. And the longer she stayed silent, the more curious he became. Fisher’s comment about secrets popped up. “Seems to me your brother is on the way to figuring it out.”
“Won’t be too hard, soon enough,” she muttered.
He set the plate on the counter. “Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to tell me something?” Apprehension chewed on his gut. “You don’t want to, I get that.” He understood. Did he relish the idea of dealing with Fisher’s anger and disapproval? Hell no. But he wasn’t going to come between Renata and her family. If the last two years had taught him one thing, it was the importance of the family unit. It should be protected, treasured and nurtured. Always.
The look on her face was assessing—as if she was mulling over a problem and she was unsure of the solution. “I... I guess I’m going to just say it, okay?” She set her plate on the counter next to his and crossed her arms around her waist. But she didn’t say anything. She stood there, eyes fixed on the floor, shaking.
Anticipation seeped in deep, cold and hard. Whatever she was about to say wasn’t good. He’d had enough bad news to last a lifetime.
“I’m pregnant,” her voice wavered, “And... I mean... Well, it’s yours.” She hugged herself. “If—if you were wondering?” She rushed on. “But I’m not asking for anything. I’ll figure this out.”
He didn’t hear a word of what she said next. Roaring filled his ears. Crushing, thick weight squeezed the air from his lungs and had him leaning, heavily, against the counter.
This was too much. A joke. Pregnant? No. He was just figuring out this father thing with Curtis. And now?
Renata was pregnant with his baby. His brain was processing but his body had gone cold. Until, slowly, the anxiety and tightness of her voice reached him. Her words eventually seeped in and sort of made sense. What was she saying?
“So, you know. And we’ll just go on.” She poked her chicken pot pie. “No one needs to know—”
What the hell? She wasn’t serious. This changed everything. Everything. “Everyone will know.” He stared at her stomach, imaging her round. With his baby. Breathing was impossible. “You won’t be able to hide it for long. Besides, you’re close with your family.”
“I will figure this out,” her voice wavered.
She’d said that before.
“You’ll figure this out?” he repeated. He looked at her then—really looked at her. And what he saw hurt. The Renata he’d spent the night with had been fearless. Now...well, she was pregnant and scared to death. Fear could crush a spirit, he knew that firsthand. He didn’t want that for her.
He crossed to her without thinking, prepared to offer whatever support she needed. But she stopped him, one hand braced against his chest.
“Don’t. I need to stay strong, okay?” She wouldn’t look at him. “You don’t need to worry. I’ll be fine. I can do this.”
The more she said it, the more offended he became. “I’m sure you can but that’s not the way it’s going to work.” What the hell was he talking about? How was it going to work? He had some grand idea? Nope. He had nothing. His mind was free-falling. But they would come up with something. Until he had something coherent to offer, he needed to choose his words carefully. His panic was his problem, not hers. All she needed to know was he was going to be there for her. And this baby.
His baby.
Shit.
Her gaze slammed into his, startled. “Ash...” Was she trying to give him an out here? Or did she not want him around? Not that it mattered.
“What did you expect? That I’d walk away? Or, worse, pretend this baby wasn’t mine?” He kept his anger in check, barely. They hadn’t spent a whole lot of time together but what they had had been real—open and honest. That was how he lived life. “I won’t do that.”
She nodded. “I know. I thought... I was scared. I am scared. Okay.” The fight drained out of her and, this time, she didn’t resist him pulling her into his arms. It felt better then, to have her pressed against him.
He closed his eyes, battling back the images of Shanna. Curtis’s pregnancy had been one nightmare after another. Her cancer had been diagnosed her first trimester. Untreatable. Incurable. From that point on, life was one long descent into misery.
“I don’t know what happens next,” she whispered. “What to tell people. What to do. I’m a terrible liar. Terrible.”
Which was a huge comfort. “Lying is terrible. Don’t do it. The truth can hurt, but it’s real.”
He’d learned how to lie—out of necessity. Telling Shanna everything would be okay, that he was fine, that he’d live life to the fullest, for her, every day... Whatever she needed to hear to have the peace she deserved. She’d fought hard, doing everything she could to protect her pregnancy and their son. Until her body couldn’t do it anymore. Seeing his vital, fearless, dreamer of a wife turn weak and anxious had broken something inside him. He’d done his best to hide it, for her, but once those last few months had started ticking away, he’d been scared of everything. He’d known he was going to lose her and the life they’d dreamed of, and there was nothing he could do to stop that.
Renata’s wavering sigh pulled him back to the present. The way her hands gripped his shirtfront constricting the vice squeezing his already fractured heart. His arms tightened around her waist out of instinct, nothing more. They were both shaken, in need of comfort—that was all this was.
They were in this together. No mat
ter what. What he’d envisioned or wanted couldn’t compete with this baby’s needs. Now that was all that mattered. What was best for this baby.
Chapter 5
“You need to eat.” His breath tickled her ear.
Eating would require her to let go of him and she was comfortable as she was, pressed tight against the warm, strong breadth of Ash Carmichael’s chest. If she could stay like this for a few minutes longer, maybe she’d think about eating. For the first time since Dr. Santos’s shocking announcement she felt better. Sure, her world was still upside down and backward, but...better.
“Renata?” His hand stroked along her back. “It’ll help.”
Not as much as a long, warm cuddle. She kept her mouth shut and her eyes on the ground as she stepped out of his hold.
“Eating is important for you both,” he added.
Both. Meaning her baby. Their baby. The baby that was completely reliant on her. Even though this was not how she’d ever in her wildest dreams imagined things unfolding, she’d always wanted this. A baby of her own. A baby she’d shower with all the love in her heart.
Fine. She’d eat. She’d try to eat. Even if the flaky crust and creamy chicken held absolutely no appeal. With the tines of her fork, she rolled two peas free from the pie filling then sat the fork on the counter. “My stomach.” She ran her hand along the cool surface.
“Nauseous?” he asked.
“A bit. I thought it was stress. Or lack of sleep. I never thought it was...this.” She shrugged. “But it is.” She pushed off the counter and looked at him. He was taking this remarkably well. She was not. Words jammed up in her throat, so many words.
“You’d do this on your own?” he asked. “If I wasn’t here?”
She still didn’t know what his being here meant when it came to the baby. Baby. It still sounded weird.
“Renata?” His voice was low.
Right. He had questions. “Have you met my family? I’m never on my own. Besides, how could I find you?” She cleared her throat. “Ash isn’t a lot to go on.”
He was staring at her, intent, those light gray eyes sweeping slowly over his face.
“I... I’d almost convinced myself you were a dream.” Now her embarrassment was complete. “But if you didn’t exist then neither would this.” One hand strayed to her stomach.
His gaze followed her hand, giving her the chance to steal a longer look at him. His jaw muscle clenched tight. Drawing attention to his very strong square jaw. How simply looking at a man could make her go soft inside was a mystery. But looking at this man did just that. His thick black lashes and oh-so-mesmerizing eyes reached deep inside her. Even now, when everything was uncertain, he inspired all sorts of tingles and aches. It was exhilarating. And, considering their present condition, ridiculous.
“It wasn’t a dream.” His voice was pitched low, his gaze meeting hers.
The look on his face only increased the tingles and aches. And frustration. Her wayward body was not going to take control of the conversation. It had done enough, thank you very much. “I don’t know you, Ash,” she started. “You don’t know me.”
“We’ll work on that.” He moved to her side, instantly rattling her. “I’m not going anywhere.” His hands settled on her shoulders but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. It was easier to stare at the broad expanse of his flannel-covered chest. He took a deep breath. “You’re not doing this on your own. This is our baby.”
It was true, but that didn’t stop her from panicking. Our baby? He had a right to know. After that... Well, she hadn’t gotten to that part yet. But now there was an “our”? What, exactly, did “our” mean?
“Renata, look at me.” His voice was low and gruff.
One look in those gray eyes and she’d get even more flustered than she already was. “No.”
“Why?”
Surely, he knew. He had to know. Didn’t he feel this? With him this close, thinking and moving and talking was challenging. He was just so overwhelming.
His voice was softer as he said, “I can think of worse things than being overwhelmingly attracted to the mother of my child.”
Now he had her full attention. Her heart kicked up when their gazes collided. He did know. She wasn’t the only one suffering from out-of-control want. There was no way around it—this man set her body on fire. Standing here, gazes locked and blazing, the connection shook her to the core.
He was smiling. “Why deny it? I think it’s a hell of a good place to start.”
She was staring at his mouth, his amazing lips, taking her mind on a detour she didn’t have time to travel. “Start?” That was a whole other topic. One she did not want to add on top of the whole surprise baby thing. A little shake, gripping the cool marble counter, holding herself upright—not swaying into him. Get a hold of yourself.
Changing the topic. “The baby will have a family.” A big, loud, interfering and loving family she didn’t know how to include him in—not without the truth coming out. “We can’t, shouldn’t, overcomplicate this. You know? Single parenting seems to be the thing these days.”
The gorgeous mouth turned down. “That’s what you had in mind?”
No. “I only found out.” She shook her head. “I don’t have anything in mind. There hasn’t been time to construct a plan or catch my breath. I’ve barely had time to process what’s happening myself.” Ten seconds ago, she was wrapped up and aching for this man. Now she was supposed to have a constructive conversation?
“Don’t you think we should discuss options?” His words snapped her out of it.
“There are no options.” Options sounded way too...emotionless. Right now, her emotions were in charge. As new and terrifying as this was, she wasn’t about to give up this baby. Ever. He needed to know that up front. “About the baby?” Her voice broke. “I’m going to be a mother.” She backed up, away from his distracting scent and warmth to clear her head—and into the counter to send her plate, pie and fork crashing to the floor.
“And I’m going to be a father to this baby,” he said, hands on hips, looking like he meant it—even if he wasn’t exactly happy about it. “While I appreciate how close you and your family are, this will be our family. And I plan to play an active part in it—to be there for you—starting now.”
“Great.” She bit the word out. “Perfect.”
“Good.”
Good wasn’t the way she’d describe any of this. Telling her father and brothers was going to be hard enough without him being a part of the discussion. But he was the father. She winced. He had every right to be a part of this. Saying he wanted to be here for her, for their baby, was good? It was. So why was it hard to breathe?
Oh God. How was she going to tell her family she’d wound up pregnant from a one-night stand? It might have worked out for her brother Ryder and his wife, Annabeth, but this was different. She and Ash had no history. They were strangers. Having a baby. She covered her face, and nausea welled up all over again. “This is bad,” she mumbled.
He didn’t argue. Or say anything. A peek between her fingers showed him still leaning against the counter, still looking at her. Calm. Rational. Sure, his jaw looked like it could snap any moment, but overall... “How can you be this calm?”
He tugged her hands from her face, his gaze searching. “I’m not. I promise.”
Exhaustion slammed into her, hard and fast. It had been a long day. “I can barely think, let alone make decisions. Besides, I’m a list maker. This calls for lots of lists. It calms me down.” She sucked in a deep breath. “If possible, it helps me sleep.”
The corners of his lips dipped.
“Don’t frown at me,” she snapped. “You’re not the one that’s going to have to tell my family.”
“But I will be working with your brothers daily—assuming I’ll still be employed.” He ran a hand over his face.
&nb
sp; His job. Her brothers. Her stomach flipped. Again.
“There’s a long road ahead of us.” His attempt at confidence failed. “Telling people will be the easy part.”
Every bone in her body rebelled against such an idea. “There’s nothing easy about that. Not to me.”
He stared up at the ceiling. “I didn’t mean that.” The raw anguish in his voice hurt to hear. “I have people to tell, too.”
People? Ash’s love life hadn’t entered her mind yet but it had been two months—he could have met someone. “It certainly complicates things in the romance department,” she mumbled, forcing the words past the new lump lodged in her throat.
His gaze locked with hers, jaw clenching tight. “You’re seeing someone?”
“No.” She shook her head. “You just said you had people—”
“My son,” he interrupted.
She blinked. “You have a son?” Another blink, her mind officially spinning out of control. A son? A big brother. The boy’s mother? Shared custody? Was the boy there now? With Ash’s ex? It was too much—all of it. Once more she was struck by just how little they knew each other. They’d been too caught up in this current between them, struck dumb by sensation and want to think beyond the time they’d shared.
He studied her for a long time. “You’ve gone to the doctor?”
“First official appointment is in two days.” Thanks to Winnie. All she could do was hope and pray she kept it to herself. Chances were slim... Meaning she didn’t have much time.
“I’ll come with you.”
“That’s not necessary.” He couldn’t come with her. That would only make things worse.
She was about to argue when his phone started to ring. He pulled it from his pocket, glanced her way, then back at the phone. “Excuse me,” he said, answering the call with a muffled “hello” as he walked out of the kitchen.
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