17. Duke
SEVENTEEN
DUKE
I had never lived with a woman. Hell, I was still a kid myself when I hung my dreams in the back closet to take over the family farm. Stepped up. Be steady and stable while I watched my family crumble in front of me.
I had been helpless against it.
After pouring myself into the work, living on the main parcel in the old farmhouse was what had made the most sense. Over time, I took care in updating it and making it comfortable. It was rustic and masculine. No frills.
I looked around the living room with its tall, wood-beamed ceilings and no-nonsense decor.
I should have bought a fucking candle or something.
With MJ’s help, Sylvie had planned to pack a few of her belongings into her car and meet me back at the farm that evening.
I was uneasy having her return to her aunt’s house, worried her father would be ready for round two.
Sylvie assured me she was fine and that her sister’s presence would help soften her father.
I still didn’t like it.
After I left her, I checked in with Cisco and got to work moving things around the house to make Sylvie more comfortable.
She had texted me forty minutes ago saying she would be by in about fifteen minutes.
I checked my watch and glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel.
Since then I had paced by the front window, ignoring the rapidly cooling coffee in my hands.
Ed whined at my feet, unsure about my anxious mood.
I looked around the farmhouse. It was clean, but simple.
Nothing like the austere home Sylvie shared with her family.
The front door opened to a small vestibule for boots and coats.
Years ago I had taken a sledgehammer to a wall in the old parlor, opening it up to the living room.
A downstairs bedroom had been converted to my office, and the kitchen was at the back of the house with a large window that overlooked the blueberry fields in the distance.
The real appeal of the house was the porch.
The wide, covered expanse was where I ate many of my meals, but I mostly just sat and enjoyed the quiet, rolling landscape.
Rather than stare out the window, waiting for her arrival, I tracked outside.
I sucked in the fall air and took in the view.
The sun hung low in the sky as fall’s early golds deepened to amber, casting a glow to the trees that bordered my fields.
The bushes themselves had already begun taking on the burgundy hue of autumn.
The kaleidoscope of color rippled down through the rows and would carry over into the next month or so.
The unmistakable scent of fall—pine, wood burning, and drying leaves walked with me as I headed to the barn to check on Duck.
Ed happily trotted behind me, eager to check on his youngling.
Once Ed was satisfied that Duck was safe in the barn, he turned his attention to the crunch of tires on gravel.
With a deep bark, he loped out of the barn and across the driveway.
My chest squeezed as Sylvie’s car pulled down the path.
Ed came dangerously close to the tires as he made tight loops around the moving car.
That dog will never learn.
A small ball of tension unfurled when Sylvie stepped from her car. She no longer looked stricken—her golden eyes were bright in the late-afternoon sun, and her blonde hair was piled on top of her head.
She rested one arm on the open car door and smiled shyly. “Hey, roomie.”
A small laugh pushed out of my nose. I lifted my cup. “Squatter.”
She pinned me with an annoyed glare, but the corners of her mouth tipped up.
Stress and tension eased out of my shoulders.
I hated seeing Sylvie cry, and the relief that she was in a better mood lifted my own.
I walked toward her car, looking into the back seat, and was surprised to see she hadn’t brought much with her.
Maybe she’s already changed her mind.
She looked behind her to where I stared at her small suitcases. “I only brought the basics. Unfortunately not much still fits comfortably.” She shrugged and ran a hand down her barely there belly, and a hot poker prodded my chest.
When she went to pull the bags from the car, I stopped her. “I got it.”
I led the way into the house, depositing her bags by the front door.
“Duke . . . wow.”
I shifted in my boots. “I know it’s not much, but?—”
“It’s perfect.” Her hand briefly touched my arm before she snatched it back and clasped it with the other. “Can I get a tour?”
I tucked my hands in my pockets. I didn’t trust myself not to lean into her and sneak a brush of my hand across her back. The open-concept first floor was brief, and I led her up the wide stairs to the second floor.
I opened the primary bedroom door and gestured for her to enter. “This can be your room. You can decorate it however you like, but for now it’s got the basics.”
Sylvie’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the large king-size bed, walk-in closet, and attached bathroom. She frowned. “This seems like the main bedroom.”
I nodded. “It is.”
“Shouldn’t that be your room?”
“It was, but I moved out. I wanted you to have the attached bathroom. Plus, it’s closest to the small bedroom, which I figured might work well for a nursery. Right now it’s just storage.”
Her eyes went wide as she looked at me. “Oh...”
I cleared my throat. “If you don’t like it”—I gestured down the hallway—“there are two other bedrooms. You can take your pick.”
“This is perfect, but can I see the others?”
“Of course.” I nodded and walked down the hallway. Across the hall was the small bedroom. It was empty except for a bed and small dresser. I’d used it as a spare room in case a friend or one of my siblings ever needed a place to crash for the night.
A wistful look came over Sylvie’s features as she looked at the room.
Her hand moved to her belly. It was as though she could see it transformed into a nursery for our baby.
Emotion was hot and thick in my throat. Babies and nurseries and living with Sylvie were all so new.
I still didn’t know exactly how it would all work out, but having a safe place for them to live was my top priority.
Farther down the hall, I pointed out the other room I had claimed as my own.
Sylvie’s fingertips pressed into her lips. “Oh, Duke.” A small laugh escaped behind her fingers. “That bed is way too small.”
The bed was shoved into a corner and, with my frame, would likely be comically small, but I didn’t care. “It’ll be fine.”
In the tight confines of the doorway, I wanted to touch her—hold her to me and assure her things would be okay.
She smelled so fucking good, and for weeks I had imagined exploring her body, dragging soft moans from her as I found all kinds of new ways to make her come. I was undeniably attracted to her.
Knowing my child was growing inside her only made me want her more .
That fact alone only made me hate myself.
Since our date on the beach, Sylvie hadn’t let on that she was interested in anything more than friendship.
Given our family situation, dating would have been hard enough, and adding a baby to the mix was downright reckless.
I knew I needed to be careful with her.
I shifted out of the doorway, needing space. “I’ll bring your bags up and let you get settled.”
Before I could leave, she held me in place with a gentle hand on my forearm. “Thank you for this. I know it’s not easy, but if it means anything at all...” Her soft eyes looked at me, and my heart rolled. “I think you’re going to make a great dad.”
My jaw clenched to keep my emotions in check.
“Sylvie, I liked you before this happened. You are funny and sweet and full of fire. I am willing to take you in any form you’re willing to give me.
You have my word that I will be the best father to our kid.
” I cleared my throat as tightness set in. “Let’s get you moved in.”
Without looking back, I hurried to move her into my home and, with any luck, out of my heart before she broke it for good.