Chapter 39
Aubrey sat on the closed toilet lid and stared at the plastic stick in her hand, her blood a chaotic tumble.
Two blue lines.
Two.
Moisture flooded her throat. She’d suspected already, back in New York. Well, sort of. But she was glad she’d waited until
now, four whole days after she and Nick had returned to Henderson. It felt right, somehow, to have sorted things out before she sprung the news on him that he’d be having yet another shotgun wedding.
Dazed, she flushed the toilet and lurched from the bathroom, one hand pressed to her belly. She felt nothing out of the ordinary,
could only be six or seven weeks along, because it must have happened that night in his truck. Or maybe up against the wall,
beside the fire.
Either way, she should call the OB and make an appointment.
She found the chesterfield and sank onto it, the rest of the living room a blur. She saw nothing except a future full of Nick—his
long fingers playing with pudgy hands, his laugh echoing a high-pitched giggle, his dark eyes peering out from a rounded face.
Or maybe their child would inherit her green gaze.
It didn’t matter. Either way, their child would be perfect. Just like her husband-to-be.
Aubrey sat there for the remainder of Nick’s shift at the mill, which amounted to two and a half hours. She cradled her belly and cried the most joyful tears she’d ever shed.
When a knock interrupted her reverie, she didn’t stop to wonder why Nick would ask to be let in to what was now his house.
She just drifted to the door in a trance, wondering if he’d know simply by looking at her.
But Nick wasn’t there. Instead, electric blue eyes regarded her from the stoop, chasing away her effervescent joy.
“Gallant?” Her voice turned to stone.
“Hey.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “I was hoping we could talk.”
She ran her eyes over him, but her body offered no reaction. No shift in her heart rate, not so much as a stitch in her breathing.
Like she’d never cared about him at all. Which, she supposed, she hadn’t. No, she’d spent all that time falling in love with
Nick.
She had to be the only woman in the world who’d fallen for the same man twice, without unfalling in between. “About what?”
“What happened. The letters. Which I shouldn’t have given you, I realize that now. But it was only because I liked you so
much. That part was real. It really, really was, and I was hoping you might give me another chance. Get to know the real me.
Because I never faked the way I felt about you.”
She anchored her grip to the doorframe. Cold air leached in, pebbling her skin. “You don’t even know me, Gallant.”
“Yeah, I do. Of course I do.”
“No. You have an idea of me. But it’s made-up. The letters fooled me, but you don’t actually know what I dream about at night,
or what my deepest secret is, or what scares me most in the world. We never talked about any of that.”
“Okay.” Bronze brows crooked as his eyes pleaded with her. “I can find out.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but no.”
He slid his hands into his pockets. The naked regret on his face surprised her. “But what—”
The roar of an engine cut him off. Gallant turned as Nick’s truck screeched to a stop in the driveway.
The rest happened so quickly Aubrey didn’t have the chance to protest. Not that she would have, anyway. Nick came streaking
up the walk, his boots punching through the crusted snow. He didn’t slow when he came up the steps, just wound up a fist and
smashed it straight into Gallant’s face.
Gallant reeled, stumbling off the stoop and into the yard, but he managed to keep his feet, somehow. Nick hit him again, this
time with the other fist, then spat at Gallant’s feet and stood there, his back heaving, his breath puffing silver streams
into the air.
Gallant swayed. Blood leaked from his nose and a corner of his mouth. “What the hell? What’d I do to you?”
Nick hissed air through his teeth. “A lot of things, you absolute bag of dicks. But that wasn’t for me. That was for them.”
Aubrey’s breath thinned.
Nick glanced back and met her eyes, a spark of pure love flaring before he faced Gallant again. “One for each.”
“One for each of what?” Gallant touched his face, wincing when his fingers came away red and glistening.
Aubrey kept silent. She had an idea of what Nick meant, one she would never ask about, because some things truly weren’t her
business.
But she figured she understood.
“Get the fuck out of my yard,” Nick growled. “And leave my fiancée alone. If I so much as see your face again, I’ll beat the
shit out of you. Are we clear?”
Gallant’s eyes bugged, whether over the threat or the word fiancée, Aubrey didn’t know and didn’t care.
When he’d gone, Nick stomped up the steps and into the entryway. She closed the front door behind him, shutting out the rest of the world.
He stood staring down at her, breathing hard, clearly trying to leash his rage. His fingers balled into fists at his sides.
She pressed a hand to his chest. “Wow. You hit him first. I’ve never seen you do that before.”
“Yeah, well. He deserved it. Are you okay? He didn’t touch you, did he?”
“No.” She couldn’t help it. She chuckled. “No way in hell was he getting close enough to try.”
Her laughter relaxed him; the corner of his mouth curled, just slightly. He held her eyes until the air thickened and heated.
His fingers straightened at his sides.
God, this man. Just looking at him set her nerves aflame. “How was your day?” she said, breathy.
“Better, now. About to be fucking spectacular, in a minute.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
He grinned, then lunged for her, hoisting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. He held her there, suspended, like
it cost him nothing. “Because. I’m about to make good use of a wall. Which one do you want today?”
She planted her palms on his shoulders and lost herself in the infinity of his eyes. Her skin prickled with the knowledge
that she was about to change his whole life. Again.
“How about the one we used when we made Paige’s sister or brother?”
He blinked. Blinked again. His fingers dug into her thighs. “What?”
“Yeah.” She risked a smile. “Because it was either there, or in your truck.”
An eternity passed while he stared up at her with parted lips. Then a broken, joy-soaked sob burst from his mouth. He hugged
her so tight the air gusted out of her.
“You’re suffocating me,” she wheezed.
“Oh, shit.” He set her down like she was made of glass and stepped back, hands spread. His cheeks were wet. “Oh fuck, I’m
sorry. What do you need? Space? A fire? Ice cream?”
She laughed. “I think I was promised a wall.”
His nostrils flared. “But . . . with a baby in there?”
She pressed her lips together to rein in her amusement. “It’s perfectly safe. I mean, I’ve never done this before, but I know
that much, at least.”
“Oh. Okay. But . . . are you sure? When Tansy was pregnant, we never . . .” His words died away while red splashed across
his cheeks. “I mean . . . Sorry. You didn’t need to hear that. I just . . . Fuck. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You were married before me. I get it. We don’t have to pretend you weren’t.”
He swallowed. “Okay. Just tell me what you need.”
“You,” she said simply.
In the end, he took her into the living room, drew the curtains, and built a fire, insisting that walls would have to wait
another seven months or so. She didn’t argue, just captured his tear-damp cheeks with her hands and laid soft kisses along
the side of his neck when he stretched her out on the fur throw he’d spread before the hearth. Seventeen years had passed
since she’d last lain with him here, yet none of them had dulled the way her nerves flowered beneath his touch or the way
she gazed into his eyes and saw forever written there.
“What do you need?” she murmured when he paused.
“Three things,” he said, staring down. “You. Paige. And this.” He laid a warm palm against her bare belly.
“Well.” Her heart filled, growing at least two sizes, threatening to overflow. “We’re your family. Which means you have us,
all of us. And you always will.”
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