Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tori
Bella started spinning in her happy circles as soon as Kincaid walked into the house. He gave me a quick kiss before leaning down to greet her. “Hey, sweet girl,” he murmured, and her little tail quivered in joy.
Maybe some people would’ve felt slighted that he initially gave my dog more attention than me, but it only solidified what a good man he was for me.
That little voice of doubt, that deep distrust in the world and in my ability to understand what a person could be capable of, chimed in, Dad loved dogs too.
Oh, shut up, I muttered silently to myself.
Kincaid straightened, and Bella meandered off to her bed. He stood in front of me, his gaze skating over my face for a few beats. “Missed you, Tori,” he murmured as he pulled me into an embrace.
I took the moment to breathe him in, to absorb his presence. “I missed you too,” I murmured into the curve of his shoulder.
His fingers idly sifted through my hair, and when I lifted my head to peer up at him, my chest was tight with so many unspoken emotions and, well, the news.
“How was your visit?” I managed, trying to keep this conversation on an expected track.
His gaze sobered, and he angled his head to the side, considering my question quietly for a few beats. “I’m really glad I went.”
“Really?”
He nodded firmly. “I am. Obviously, I can’t change the past, but...” He shrugged slightly. “My dad took responsibility for everything he could. Maybe it’s because he’s dying, but it still matters for me.” Pain flared in his gaze briefly.
My hand, which was curled around his waist, clenched against him for a moment, as if I could absorb that pain for him. My heart gave an achy thump in my chest.
Kincaid took a slow breath. “If someone had asked me, what would your dad need to do or say for you to, I guess, accept his apology, I wouldn’t have known how to answer. But he did what I needed.”
“Wow,” I said softly. “That’s good.”
One of his shoulders lifted slightly with another shrug. “It’s bittersweet. I’m grateful, but... I can’t undo what happened, and neither can he.” He gave his head a little shake, and his attention refocused on me. “How was your weekend?”
I blinked up at him, feeling my lips curl into a smile because I was just so freaking happy he was home. “It was a weekend. I worked. Nothing amazing happened.”
“How was work?” His lips teased at the corners, and my belly did a little shimmy.
“It was good.” I chuckled softly, feeling unaccountably abashed—almost nervous—at just how happy I was that he was here with me.
Although the buzz of him being here felt so good, in a back corner of my thoughts was the reality that I had to tell him something big.
Really big. I didn’t know how he was going to feel about it.
I still didn’t know how I felt about it.
I had gone from ninety-eight percent sure I wanted this baby to ninety-nine percent sure, and yet the clock was ticking.
I had to tell Kincaid about the situation and soon.
My doubts were burgeoning because his presence made it all so very real. It was no longer just me counting on someone and learning to trust someone, but our hypothetical baby, an eventual child.
“I’m glad you’re home,” I said, my words feeling inadequate for the moment.
“I am, too,” he murmured, his familiar voice, the low rumble of it, sliding over me like a soothing balm along my nerve endings.
He dropped his forehead to mine, his hand shifting from teasing through my hair lightly to sliding up to cup my nape. “Missed you, Tori,” he murmured against my lips, each word shaping a promise.
Before I could take another breath, he was kissing me, and I was kissing him back with need spinning like liquid fire through my veins. We tumbled into the force of our desire, swept into a current.