Things We Burn (Jupiter Tides)

Chapter 19

Nineteen

The energy in the car ride home was heavy. Oppressive. Just like the air this morning after the storm.

I kept going over the speech he’d given Fiona, the way he’d offered so much information so freely. The more I thought about it, the more I felt like he wasn’t saying all of that for Fiona’s benefit or Kip’s. It was for mine.

Kane drove unhurriedly back to my place without asking for directions. First, though, he took a lap of the town, glancing at the streets, shops and the ocean as we drove past. He was taking stock of his surroundings, I guessed.

“What are we doing here?” I asked when he stopped at the grocery store.

“Chef, you’re growing our baby, your cupboards are bare,” he informed me as he parked. “We’re getting food.”

I nodded, unable to argue. I’d walked through the aisles with him like a zombie. He didn’t ask me what I wanted; he just piled the cart high with ingredients that I would’ve picked in another life. It seared my insides, the simple, domestic act. We’d done this in New York while joking, touching. More than once, he pulled me into an abandoned aisle to make out with me. There was none of that.

We just shopped, he paid and didn’t let me carry a single bag. I didn’t bother arguing about that either.

I didn’t ask him what he thought of Jupiter, Maine. Part of me didn’t want to know. It was peaceful, idyllic, without the chaos and danger of the city. He wouldn’t like it. It wouldn’t offer him the things the city did.

I could no longer offer him the things I did when I was a hotshot chef in the city.

We arrived back at my place, though it was still strange thinking of it as that. My cottage wasn’t colorful and cheery like the rest of the coastal houses. Its exterior was shades of black and gray, giving it an almost moody appearance—which I’d been drawn to. That along with the charm of it, the renovated kitchen and bathrooms, its proximity to the sea and privacy. And it had passed all building inspections with flying colors, was well maintained and wouldn’t need another roof for about ten years, barring any natural disasters.

Not that I imagined being there for ten years. Though theoretically, that was the goal, right? Somewhere quiet and safe to raise the child of the world’s most famous daredevil.

My palms itched with thoughts of the future, at the thought of preschool, of playgroups, PTAs… Motherly things that I’d never thought I’d be part of.

I stewed on that as my sandals crunched over the gravel of my driveway, transitioning to the stone pavers that led up to my front door.

Kane followed me, arms laden with bags, not saying anything as I unlocked the door and walked into the living room. Blanche barked in greeting, running up to me. I petted her dutifully, grateful for something to do because I had no plans when I walked in.

While Kane unloaded the groceries, I spent as much time as I could petting Blanche. Unfortunately, she was a traitor and trotted over to Kane for ear scratches once he was done.

I turned around to look at him, watching as he lavished Blanche with attention. I was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, unable to think of what to do with myself. Running sounded good. Yes, running out of the room was the best choice. Or apologizing. Had I done that? Apologized for abandoning him? I hadn’t.

Yes, that was what I needed to do. Although this thing between us was complicated, I knew in my heart that I’d failed him by believing Brax so easily.

I opened my mouth to say sorry, but Kane spoke first.

“This place.” He twirled his finger around the room. “You got a mortgage?”

I nodded, taken aback by the question.

He clicked his tongue, eyes stormy. “Okay, we’ll call who we need to call. I’ll take care of the mortgage. I’ll get another car in the morning too. Yours paid off?”

I nodded again, trying to process exactly what he was saying. I had a more-than-healthy savings since I was paid well for my job and hadn’t had overhead beyond my rent-controlled apartment.

I bought the car in cash because that’s what I’d deemed most sensible. The house was another story. The cottage might’ve been small and quaint, but it was still an oceanside property on two acres of land. Jupiter was becoming a desirable area. Therefore, the price tag on the seaside cottage was more than modest.

Even for me, it was too much. I might’ve been a well-known chef cooking food for billionaires, but I was far from one myself. I hadn’t capitalized on my position by selling my name for cookware or recipe books.

Maybe I should’ve. Because now I was unemployed, with a mortgage and a baby to take care of … forever. Yes, my savings would keep us afloat for a time, but not forever.

Babies were expensive. As I’d discovered while trying to buy all the things I ‘needed’ before her arrival.

Except there was Kane, speaking about things like ‘taking care of the mortgage,’ insinuating he'd be ‘taking care’ of us.

When twenty-four hours ago, I’d thought he was in prison and didn’t want me.

“Good,” he said to himself. “Your insurance cover the baby visits? Hospital? And please tell me it’ll be at a fuckin’ hospital.”

“What’s wrong with a home birth?” My back went straight, suddenly defensive at him coming in here and ‘taking care’ of everything. “Plenty of women do it. Millions, actually, for thousands of years.”

Kane’s eyes thinned to slits “Yeah, I’m sure it’s great for plenty of women. And if it’s somethin’ you want, then I’ll hire a doctor, buy out all the hospital equipment they use in labor and delivery and make it happen here.”

He wasn’t joking.

Not even a little.

Although I was tempted to continue baiting him with the home birth thing and stress that my labor experience was just that … mine , I didn’t have the energy.

“I have a hospital organized,” I said sharply. “It’s close, has a top-tier neonatal unit, my OBGYN will be there, and I’ve already toured the facility, finding it more than adequate.”

Kane looked vaguely less tense at the mention of the hospital, though his posture was still rigid, brows still furrowed, arms folded across his chest.

“Your OB, I’ll need to meet them.” Pacing, I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “You need to make an appointment, get the ultrasound thingy. I want to see her.” His eyes grazed my stomach, filling with a warmth he hadn’t looked at me with since his arrival.

It was touching and devastating at the same time.

I fought against the urge to chew on my lip as I battled with emotions that slammed through me with the force of a hurricane. I struggled to grasp on to something familiar, safe.

“You’re making a lot of demands.” I rested my hands on the swell of my stomach.

Kane kept his gaze there. “Yeah, baby, I am.” He carded a hand through his hair. “And expect a fuck of a lot more. I’ve missed out on a lot, and I intend on making up for as much as I can. I intend on taking care of you.” His eyes went from my stomach upward. “Both of you.”

Wasn’t that everything I’d wanted? Everything I’d dreamed of when I first saw those two pink lines?

Maybe.

But a lot had changed since then.

And yes, maybe Kane wasn’t the man I’d thought he was, but he had left me. Even if the logical part of me knew it wasn’t by choice, I still felt that abandonment, that need to guard my heart.

“But you’ll have a parole officer,” I said, being cruel. “I’m assuming you’re not supposed to be out of state.”

His lips pressed into a harsh line as he exhaled loudly. “No parole officer, Avery. Victoria has been working overtime getting dirt on both the judge and the DA who prosecuted me. She found plenty of shit to get me out, conviction overturned, and she’s working on a whole lot more, but all I care about is I’m out.”

A shadow crossed his face, and yet again, I was overcome by the reality of what Kane had endured the past months.

Caged. He’d been caged like an animal. Possibly treated worse than an animal.

Spots danced in my vision as my stomach roiled.

Struggling to maintain my composure, I held his stare. “You’re going to stay. Here.” I wasn’t sure if I was making a statement or asking him a question. “Don’t you have events, interviews or whatever you need to do?”

Kane closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You think there’s anywhere else I’m gonna be but here? With you? Then you really must not know me, Avery.”

There he was again with my name. It felt like a weapon, hurled at me in place of the soft term of endearment.

“I know you.” I took a seat at the breakfast nook, my swollen feet needing a break. “Or I thought I did. But I didn’t know any of this was going to happen. Especially not this.” I pointed to my stomach. “I’d never planned on falling in love, certainly never intended on having a family. There’s too much to lose. But then you…” I drew in a deep breath. “We were a whirlwind. Too good to be true. And when it happened, when Brax told me what he told me, I thought there it was, the other shoe dropping.”

“And you gave up. And ran,” Kane said flatly.

I rubbed my eyes, struggling between guilt, shame and defensiveness. Did I deserve all of his contempt? Maybe.

“I guess I thought you didn’t want me—us” I corrected, touching my stomach.

Kane’s eyes softened at the corners slightly, but his posture remained rigid, his jaw hard. “I have wanted you from the moment I saw you. You’ve been mine since I laid eyes on you, and you will be mine long after I become dust.” His intense gaze zeroed in on my belly. The fluttering I felt there was not just in my mind but from the limbs of a child who somehow felt her father’s gaze.

“Both of you,” he whispered roughly.

My vision wavered at his words, and I fought against the tears that threatened to fall. Kane was staring at me in a way that made me ache for him, that gave the impression he was going to cross the void between us.

A vibration broke the moment.

Kane startled, pulling his phone out of his pocket then glancing at it.

He sighed, tapping buttons.

“I’ve got to go,” he grumbled.

He looked at Blanche, who was sitting by his ankles, waiting patiently for his attention.

“You look after your momma,” he ordered her, as if the dog could understand such commands.

Then he walked to me, moving quickly so I didn’t have time to brace myself. He grabbed the back of my neck and plastered our mouths together.

The kiss was hard, passionate and claiming.

And over too soon.

He didn’t linger near my mouth. No, he bent downward, hands on my bump. “You stay safe and warm in there, baby girl. Your daddy will be back soon.” Warmth spread through my limbs at how incredibly sweet he sounded, whispering to her.

He glanced up at me. “I won’t be long. I’m coming back. I’ll always come back, in case that wasn’t clear.” He kissed me again, closemouthed and firm.

Then he walked out.

KANE

Leaving Avery for even a moment caused panic to swim deep inside of my gut. I’d been separated from her for months. Which in it of itself had been fucking torture. And that’s when I’d thought she was waiting for me.

But knowing that she’d been growing our baby, that I’d missed that, that I would never get that time back, that made me desperate to have her with me at all times. I was afraid to fucking sleep because I didn’t want to miss a moment with her. I thought of the pressure of little limbs against my palms. I didn’t want to miss a moment with them .

But some things needed to be done.

Knox had moved quickly. He was efficient as fuck in business, but when it was personal, he was almost superhuman.

“This isn’t going to take long,” I told the man in front of me. “You’ve already taken enough from me.”

I leered at Brax. He had a black eye and a bloody lip. We were on a deserted road in the woods outside of Jupiter.

Brax was standing. Barely.

“I told you not to lay a hand on him,” I said to my brother.

Knox shrugged. “He slipped and fell. Clumsy motherfucker.”

I almost smiled. I wasn’t quite capable of smiling yet, especially with this fuck in front of me.

“Kane.” All bravado was gone from Brax’s voice. He was sniveling and weak now.

“My brother offered to kill you for me,” I said conversationally, walking around him.

Brax had already been pale, but his eyes widened, and his skin sallowed even further. His beady eyes darted side to side as he contemplated running. There was nowhere to run to; we were far off any main roads, any houses. Knox chose this location, and Knox had done his research, controlling every single variable.

Brax wasn’t a dumb fuck; therefore, he knew running was futile. And though I’d never shared anything about Knox with him, he was also smart enough to recognize a predator when he saw one.

“I didn’t take him up on it because I didn’t want your life to be on anyone’s conscience.”

I didn’t look at my brother. I knew he would’ve been shooting me an expression that I’d be able to read without words. My brother didn’t believe he had a conscience. A soul. He thought he’d sold both a long time ago.

I thought differently. But I’d given up on convincing him of that.

“In addition to that, you’re not worth the effort it would take to dig your grave,” I added.

“Have to agree to disagree with you on that one, brother,” Knox stated in a flat tone. His expression was blank, soulless. Even though I knew my brother was much more than the sum of his parts, much more than what the underworld and our past had turned him into, that look sent shivers down my spine.

I didn’t let that show, though, focusing my gaze on Brax, my fists clenched as the devil on my shoulder urged me to change my decision, let Knox take care of him once and for all.

But I was going to have a daughter. I didn’t want to end a life. Not even Brax’s. I didn’t want that. I wanted to show my brother there were other ways to deal with things than violence and death.

“You stole from me,” I told Brax quietly. “Somethin’ more precious than anything I could ever own. You stole time from me, you stole moments I’ll never fuckin’ get back. I’m going to take everything from you.”

He fabricated a note. I don’t know where he got it from. He was always making me write shit, sign it. And, the dumb fuck that I was, I’d done it all. I’d given him the dynamite to use to blow up my entire life.

I clenched and unclenched my fists. The dragon inside of me was clawing to get out, but I muzzled it.

“Everything,” I repeated. “I’ve made calls to ensure you won’t work for anyone in our industry ever again. You’ve been blocked from all clubs, all parties, all those fuckin’ lists you were desperate to get on.”

I looked at my brother. “And I’ve had some help to ensure that all of your bank accounts are no longer bursting with money you’ve hoarded or embezzled. There’s enough there, to survive on.” I looked him up and down, sneering at his $1,000 loafers. “If you know how to survive without caviar and fuckin’ champagne.”

I shook my head. “I know how superficial you are, how fuckin’ shallow. I know all you care about is status and money. And with all that being gone, that’ll be worse than death. I sentence you to a life where you mean nothing to no one, and you’ve got no way of hiding what a piece of shit you are.” I paused, my eyes scanning his face. “On second thought…”

My fist plowed through his nose, savoring the satisfying crunch of it breaking. I reveled in the pain my knuckles felt from the contact with bone.

Brax fell onto the dirt, out cold.

“Thought you were taking the high road, no violence and all that,” Knox commented.

I shrugged. “What can I say? The low road feels good sometimes.”

Knox’s head bobbed up and down in a slow nod. “Yeah, it does.”

My brother’s voice sounded haunted, underneath that steel, emotionless tone he’d perfected. They were tattooed in there, those ghosts, those demons. Because of the road he’d taken. And fuck if I felt helpless to see it, my brother getting further and further away from me.

We walked toward our respective vehicles, leaving Brax unconscious in the dirt. Knox was going to drop him somewhere far away from Jupiter, inform him of what might happen to his balls if he thought about selling my location to the press.

“How’s Avery?” Knox asked.

I massaged my hand. The ache was dull, satisfying. I thought about the woman waiting at that cottage for me, with a dog, a fucking dog she’d said she’d never get, a dog that the most authoritative woman I’d ever met couldn’t control.

I thought of the ocean, that kitchen, the warmth of that house that already felt like a home.

“She’s good,” I replied. “She’s fuckin’ gorgeous pregnant.”

“Don’t doubt it,” Knox replied as we reached my bike. “You got a due date?”

I flexed my knuckles. “Don’t have all those details, yet. Things have been a bit … messy.”

“I can imagine,” he said, his normally impassive tone showing a hint of amusement. “You find that out, send me the details. The number you’ve got for me is clean now. If it isn’t, you’ll hear from me.”

He paused, looking at my face—really looking. Despite him being my brother, I felt a prickling at my spine under his gaze. I could recognize a predator too.

“How you handling it, being out?” he asked, tone as soft as was possible for a man like Knox.

I gritted my teeth. He was worrying about me. Yet again. He’d seen the state of me after I got out of prison the first time around. It wasn’t pretty.

“I’m handling it,” I told him.

It wasn’t a lie. Yeah, I wasn’t sleeping. Yeah, when a room got even a little balmy, my blood pressure skyrocketed. Yeah, I was stripped raw from feeling like that helpless fucking kid again. But it was all still fresh. I’d get over it. I had to get over it. I had people to take care of.

“It’s a lot,” he pushed. “Shit that goes with being in. And out. And with you being a dad—”

“I’m handling it,” I cut him off, not ready to open that can of worms.

Knox nodded, respecting the boundary.

“Thank you.” I didn’t miss his flinch when I clapped him on the shoulder. Knox wasn’t good with human contact if it wasn’t violent. “For making sure I didn’t get shanked or anything in there.”

I watched as Knox gritted his teeth, causing a muscle in his cheek to tic. “Well, someone had to. You’re too fucking pretty for your own good.”

I shook my head and laughed. “Seriously, brother. Know you probably had to call in some markers.”

“Worth it,” Knox replied. “That’s the reason I collect markers after all.”

I knew that he was shutting down the conversation. It was getting too close to specifics related to his life in the underworld. One he was diligent about protecting me from.

Not for the first time, I grieved for the life my brother might’ve had, the relationship we might’ve had.

“You sure you’re good, taking care of that asshole?” I motioned back to where Brax was lying in the mud.

“Oh, yes. Consider it my baby shower present,” Knox’s eyes gleamed. “Now get back to your woman.”

I was already aching to. It had been less than an hour, and anxiety was building in the back of my spine. What if something happened? What if she’d fallen? Gone into labor early?

I picked up my helmet, ready to get back.

“Gladly will, once I get the promise you’ll come meet your niece when she’s born.”

Knox stilled. Me requesting a promise was as good as an oath to him. Knox didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. And though he’d been there for me in many ways throughout the years, vanilla, family shit like meeting babies was outside of his wheelhouse.

I saw him consider my request, waited half expecting a refusal. I wouldn’t be mad. Knox did his best, gave me what he was capable of. I took it because he was my brother, and I loved him.

“I’ll be there,” he said finally. “You call me, I’ll be there.”

I smiled at him.

“I’ll call you the second she enters the world,” I said, climbing on my bike.

“You may not need to,” he quirked a brow. “She might cause an earthquake or hurricane or some shit. I’ve got a feeling she’s going to be powerful.”

I turned on my bike. “Oh, I know she’s gonna be powerful.”

AVERY

I didn’t know what to do in Kane’s absence.

Which, of course, was insane since I’d been without him for months and about thirty-five years before that. And yet…

When he left, I’d stood in the middle of the living room, Blanche sitting contentedly at my feet as I stared into space, listening to the rumble of Kane’s motorcycle and then the silence once it drove off.

To be fair, I hadn’t exactly been a productive human since I arrived in Jupiter. Yes, I’d done the research to get a reliable car, I’d negotiated the best closing deal on the house, got a sensible mortgage, homeowner’s insurance, all of those things.

Yet once I’d gotten all the relevant things with the house sorted, once Kiera had furnished and left, I was alone.

Not entirely. I was never really alone with the baby growing in my stomach. But I had free time. Oodles of it.

Which I spent adopting a dog, aimlessly walking the beach, reading baby books, researching baby products and watching reality TV.

And wallowing. Plenty of that.

None of those things seemed to be prudent any longer.

I couldn’t really wallow or long for someone who was no longer gone. Yet Kane was gone. Part of him, at least. The part that smiled easily, called me Chef with warmth and fire, who always had a cheeky glint in his eyes.

Yes, I was still longing for him. And there was the chance he’d never come back.

On that thought, I forced myself to take action.

I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge, looking at the bursting interior—Kane had gone a little crazy.

And then I did something for the first time in months. I cooked.

I didn’t hear the roar of the motorcycle. Nor the opening of the door or the thump of his boots against the hardwood.

Blanche did, though, jumping up from where she was pressed against my leg where I was standing at the stove, barking to say hello to Kane.

“Quiet,” he commanded in an authoritative tone.

Blanche obeyed.

I saw him ruffling her coat out of the corner of my eye. “Can’t have you barking at anything and everything when we’ve got a baby in the house,” he muttered to Blanche.

My stirring faltered at the mention of ‘baby in the house,’ but I kept going.

Yes, I was aware that I was pregnant, buying baby things and had even seen her on various ultrasounds, but it was becoming extremely daunting—terrifying—knowing that there would be a baby in this house, reliant on me to keep her alive in less than a month.

“You’re cooking.”

“Risotto,” I replied as I glanced up. “With a basil pesto. The few plants I haven’t killed.” I nodded to the lush basil. “And focaccia. Charred chicken for protein. Nothing fancy.”

Kane regarded me. “It smells fuckin’ fancy. Truthfully, it smells like the best thing I’ve smelled in my life.”

I pursed my lips. He wasn’t being cold. He was almost being … friendly.

“Don’t speak too soon.” I returned my focus to the risotto, pouring some cream into it, knowing it was done before I even tasted it. I sprinkled fresh grated parmesan on top before taking it off the heat and seasoning it one last time.

“My taste buds have changed since being pregnant” I worked on autopilot, spooning the risotto on the two prepared plates, drizzling on the pesto then placing the chicken and more parmesan on top. “So this could very well be horrible. You are under no obligation to eat it.”

“My woman cooked risotto for me when all I’ve had is instant noodles and ground beef that may have come from a cow at some point,” Kane said, right beside me.

I didn’t jump but almost did. I’d been so consumed by plating I hadn’t noticed him move across the kitchen.

He was close. Not touching me, but our bodies were a hairsbreadth apart, his scent mixing with the basil, the cream, the sharp cheese.

And there it was again.

My woman .

“Need me to do anything?”

I glanced up at him, giving him a pointed look. “You know better than to ask that. Sit. I’ll bring it over.” I waved to the small breakfast nook that looked out over the ocean. There was also a larger dining table, but I liked looking at the ocean.

“No,” Kane said.

Hands on my hips, I gave him a patented Avery Hart, head chef glare. “What did you just say?”

He didn’t so much as blanche. “You heard me, Chef. Finish what you need to finish, then you go sit down, and I’ll bring everything over.”

“Kane,” I sighed in exasperation. “I’m pregnant, not terminal. I can carry plates.”

“I know.” He dipped a finger in the pesto, his pink tongue darting out to lick it off. “But you just cooked a whole ass meal, on your feet for at least an hour when you haven’t done that in months. Your center of gravity is off. You could make it over there with plates, but I don’t want you to.” He jounced his eyebrows “And this smells like it promises to be the best meal I’ve had in months, and I don’t feel like eating it off the floor because my pregnant woman got clumsy.”

“I’m not clumsy.” I narrowed my eyes, though my insides danced at his warm, teasing tone.

The corner of his mouth turned up. “I’m not chancing it. Finish plating, Chef.”

I glared at him then went back to work wiping and garnishing the plate. “Getting ordered around in my own kitchen,” I muttered, forcing back the smile wanting to curl my lips at him calling me Chef again.

“I won’t make a habit of it.”

“You better not.” I looked at the plates. Not exactly Michelin star, but I already knew it was good. Great, really.

“Okay, go sit your ass down.”

I tilted my head up to gawk at him. “I thought you weren’t making a habit of ordering me around.”

“I lied.” I caught the twinkle in Kane’s eyes before he leaned down to kiss me on my nose, cradling my stomach lightly. “You’re too cute when you’re pissed. Now go, I’m hungry.”

I swallowed my smile and heeded his order, feeling lightheaded. It had nothing to do with being on my feet.

“Well, that was the best thing I’ve eaten in my fuckin’ life,” Kane declared, leaning back from his clean plate.

Mine was clean too.

It was pretty good.

It felt nice to cook again. To feel hungry again. To enjoy food, my one passion.

“I bet the baby fuckin’ loved that,” Kane continued, looking downward. “Is she doing somersaults in glee right now?”

My previously relaxed energy disappeared.

Dread invaded my bones.

“I haven’t felt her move,” I whispered, horrified.

Kane reached over, his hand settling on my stomach. “What do you mean?” he asked, rubbing again.

My blood pressure boomed in my ears. “I mean, I haven’t felt her move in … since you left, since you said goodbye. Hours ago.”

Hours.

“I was distracted,” I whispered, guilt thickening my words. “With you, the mortgage stuff, the ‘taking care of us stuff,’ the apology you’re owed. Then the cooking, and I got … swept away. How could I not notice she hadn’t moved?”

The room began to spin.

“Chef.” Kane’s hands rose to either side of my neck, his eyes on mine.

“Breathe,” he commanded.

I struggled to obey.

“Again,” he murmured, rubbing behind my ears with his thumbs.

I mimicked the way he drew in a long breath before pushing it out, the spinning of the room slowing then finally coming to a stop.

“Okay,” he said calmly. “She moved this morning, that’s good. You said she’s a nocturnal baby. How often does she normally move during the day?”

I focused on him, forced myself to think analytically though tears burned the backs of my eyes. “A lot. I mean, she is nocturnal, but she usually gives me a few jabs throughout the day to remind me she holds dominion over my bladder.”

I rubbed at my stomach, carefully prodding as I had done in the past to get a responding kick.

I held my breath.

Nothing.

Heat began slithering up my neck as I began panicking again.

“What can we do to get her to move?” Kane asked me pragmatically.

“Um, something cold. Ice cold. Sugary.”

Kane didn’t wait for more details, rushing to the fridge, getting a can of soda, dispensing ice into a glass then filling it.

My hand was shaking when he handed it to me, clattering against my front tooth when I brought it up to my mouth.

I gulped down the entire glass without tasting it. In the past, when I’d been concerned about lack of movement, it had taken minutes for something sugary and cold to wake her up.

We waited, Kane trying to talk to me and me muttering things back, trying to distract us while we waited, hoped.

Nothing.

The world swayed again. I looked at him, vision blurry. “Kane,” I whispered, my voice drenched in fear.

His own expression remained even, calm, unworried. He took the glass from my hand, not having realized I was still clutching it.

“Okay, Chef. I’m thinking we call your doctor on the way to this hospital you’ve been telling me about,” he said placidly. “Then I’ll get the tour I want, and maybe I’ll get to see our girl without waiting for an appointment.”

Not waiting for my response, he helped me off the stool. His movements were unhurried as he snatched my purse from the counter.

“Is there anything else you need?” he asked, still holding onto me.

I shook my head, unable to think straight. My hand was still on my belly, rubbing, waiting for those telltale kicks. Nothing but quiet, stillness.

I could’ve vomited all over the floor. But that would’ve delayed the trip. Hospital. We needed to get to the hospital. The quicker the better.

My trademark cool had well and truly gone. I barely remembered Kane walking us through the house and getting me in the car.

He rifled through my purse then handed me the phone. “Can you find me the number for your OBGYN?” he asked me softly.

I squinted and the screen, my fingers shaking as I scrolled. “I can’t talk to her,” I shook my head, realizing just how close I was to a breakdown.

This was it. The other shoe dropping. Not Kane abandoning me and my baby but being reunited with him, tasting a future with them then it being stolen.

Bad things happened every day. People died. I’d experienced that with my father. A brain aneurysm. Quick, unexpected. Unavoidable.

Fathers died.

Babies died.

I was going to experience that. I was sure of it.

My vision tunneled.

“That’s fine, Chef,” Kane took the phone from my hands before he leaned in to kiss my cheek and buckle my seatbelt. “I’ll talk to her, you just give our girl a stern talking to about getting sleepy in the womb. Tell her to save it for after she’s born.”

I smiled weakly as he closed the door then jogged around the car. He started it, phone pressed to his ear as he reversed.

I stared blankly at the woods passing us by, clutching my stomach. I heard snatches of conversation as Kane spoke to someone at my doctor’s office.

“This is Avery Hart’s fiancé.” At the time, that title didn’t so much as register. “I’m the father, yes. Avery hasn’t felt movements all day. Not since about ten thirty this morning.” A pause. “Yeah, we’ve done that. I’m taking her to the hospital now, to check.” A pause. “Okay, great. Thank you.”

He put the phone down.

“What did she say?” I looked at him, searching for signs of alarm.

There were none. His jaw was slack, one hand on the steering wheel, and now that the phone was down, the other settled on top of my bump.

Still no movement.

My lungs pinched.

“She said the baby is probably fine, but it’s a good precaution to just go check.” He spoke in a relaxed voice, eyes fixed on the road. “If there are any worries, she’ll be there, but again, she doesn’t expect there to be. This kind of thing happens all the time.”

I massaged my temples. That didn’t pacify me. Doctors were supposed to reassure worried patients. But she couldn’t know the baby was fine. Not like I knew it wasn’t.

I didn’t speak the rest of the drive, I couldn’t. All I could focus on was the horrible stillness inside of me.

There was already a nurse waiting for me as we walked up to the Labor and Delivery department of the hospital. She was smiling, warm, unhurried in her movements. I was doing all I could not to vomit all over her.

Kane helped me put on the gown they supplied because I struggled with my clothes, my hands shaking. He too didn’t rush through anything, his forehead was free of creases, no signs of worry in his eyes. He helped me onto the bed, the nurse returning as soon as I got there.

“Now let’s wake up that baby,” she said with optimism in her voice.

Kane stood beside the bed, holding my hand as she strapped large bands around my stomach and attached them to a machine.

I was staring into space, wondering how I was going to cope with loss in front of Kane and this cheerful nurse. What would happen next? Would I have to give birth to a baby who would never take a breath?

I could barely remember how to breathe as the nurse asked questions, Kane answering them all for me.

She fiddled with dials, and as soon as she had everything calibrated, a definite and loud thump sounded.

My hand flew up to cover my mouth.

Kane stiffened.

The nurse laughed. “That always wakes them up.”

I gasped as another loud thump sounded against the background of a steady patter.

Kane’s head darted to the nurse. “That’s her heartbeat?” he asked in a husky voice.

She nodded. “It sure is. And those loud thumps? That’s her dancing in there.”

He rubbed his jaw, eyes wide in amazement.

“She’s okay?” I asked the nurse, feeling another kick. My mind was spinning. I'd already started grieving her, and yet there she was, kicking. I wanted to burst into tears.

“We’ll monitor you for another half hour or so,” the nurse told me as she typed on her tablet. “But her heart rate looks great, and her having an immediate response to the machines is reassuring.”

That wasn’t enough for me, I wanted to say. I needed to see her. I needed to see her moving on the ultrasound. But I stayed quiet, somehow unable to advocate for myself when it used to be one of my biggest strengths.

“We’ll need an ultrasound,” Kane spoke from beside me, his voice no longer as carefree as it had been.

The nurse glanced up. “If there’s cause for concern, certainly, we’d do one. But this is a low-risk pregnancy, and everything looks great, so there’s no need.”

“There is a need. For me. For her.” Kane nodded to me. His voice made it clear that this was not up for debate.

The nurse looked between us, obviously contemplating. Then she nodded. “I understand. It’s not policy, but I’ll pull some strings, talk to your doctor.” She looked at my chart. “I know her; she’ll be fine with authorizing it.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

I was talking to Kane more than her, but she nodded then left.

Kane kissed my head. There was a steady beat in the background, punctuated by a thump here and there when she decided to kick.

“She’s dramatic, it seems,” I said dryly, somewhat embarrassed at how quickly I was ready to spiral and also somewhat shell-shocked at how close it had all come to falling apart. It felt so fragile. This life.

Kane’s eyes were glued to the monitor. “Wonder who she gets that from,” he muttered.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not the one who jumps over things for a living.”

He rubbed my stomach. “She’s gonna give me a run for my money. I can already tell, Chef.”

Our banter seemed comfortable, almost familiar.

I looked at him, took in his profile, his gaze still centered on the fluctuating numbers reporting her heartbeat.

I opened my mouth to say something, but the nurse came back in.

“We’ll get you to the ultrasound room now,” she said.

And the moment was gone.

It was time to see our daughter.

“She’s perfect,” the ultrasound tech said.

I didn’t know if it was because they were just kind, if they knew who Kane was or had sensed my hysteria.

It didn’t matter. We were staring at our daughter. I wasn’t at this visit alone, wasn’t staring at a black and white image feeling utterly numb.

Kane’s hand was in mine, and his mouth was open in slack-jawed wonder. Tears stained his cheeks, and he didn’t even try to hide them.

As she tended to do when the ultrasound wand was near her, the baby kicked and jumped.

“Holy fuck !” Kane yelled, obviously not feeling pressured to speak in soft whispers because of the atmosphere like I had.

He squeezed my hand. “Do you see that, Chef?” He was still speaking way too loudly. “She’s going to be an athlete.”

I shook my head, smiling apologetically at my doctor, but she was grinning too.

“She’s an active one, that’s for sure,” she agreed as she squinted at the screen, making a series of clicks. “She’s measuring about a week ahead, weight looks to be six pounds eight ounces already.”

“Six pounds!” Kane shouted again. “Jesus, how is she going to fit, getting out of there?” He looked in my general crotch area.

My cheeks flamed even though I’d been wondering the same thing.

“Nature is a wonderful thing, Mr. Rhodes,” my doctor said with a good-natured smile. “I’m glad you got to see your daughter.”

Kane’s shit-eating grin disappeared, his expression suddenly serious. Reverent. He brought my fingers to his lips.

“Me too, Doc,” he murmured. “Best moment of my life right here.”

I fought tears of my own.

“Just wait until you hold her in your arms,” my doctor said.

“I’ll never be putting her down,” he vowed.

“Thank you for being so calm,” I said to Kane as we drove home.

He was holding the steering wheel with the ultrasound photo clutched against his hand, as if he were afraid to let it go.

“Calm?” he repeated, looking from the road to me. “I wasn’t calm, Chef. I was two seconds away from a goddamn heart attack. I’ve never been more afraid in my goddamn life.”

I gaped at him. “But you were so composed.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Because you needed me to be composed. You needed a lighthouse in the storm.”

My mouth dropped open. A lighthouse in the storm. That’s exactly what Kane was for me. Even though I knew he was still mad at me. Even though nothing was resolved. He’d seen me unraveling, and he hadn’t hesitated to hold me together.

I didn’t know what to do, what to say, so I just burst into tears.

And I couldn’t stop.

Kane looked at, horrified and shocked. He’d never seen me cry. I’d never cried. Not like this. I was bawling. Full body sobs, shaking, hiccupping, coughing, all of it.

“Jesus Christ, Chef,” Kane muttered as he pulled off to the shoulder.

“I d-didn’t realize h-how much I wanted her until today,” I swatted at the tears racing down my cheeks. “I have been so caught up in being h-heartbroken, in pining f-for you, in pretending I wasn’t pining for you, making s-spreadsheets, I d-distanced myself ff-rom her.” I rubbed my stomach and she kicked in response, making me cry harder.

“Chef, breathe,” Kane commanded, putting the car in park before unbuckling his seat belt and all but leaping out of the car.

My breath came in short pants, and I let out a snort that, thankfully, Kane didn’t hear. My door wrenched open and Kane reached over, unbuckled my seat belt then moved me to a sitting position so he could rest his hands on my thighs.

“Chef,” he repeated, more quietly this time.

“I didn’t think I wanted to be a mom,” I whispered. “But it w-wasn’t an option to get rid of it because we made her. Even after I thought y-you didn’t want her.”

Kane’s tender gaze made me want to hide my face in shame.

“I never wanted this.” I pointed to my stomach. “I didn’t think I was maternal. And then she didn’t move. Then I thought she’d died inside me, and it felt like my life was over. Now it’s real. She’s our baby. You’re here. And we could lose her.”

My vision spun at all the things that could happen between now and her birth. Between now and the day I died. Illnesses, accidents, murderers, space junk hurtling from the sky.

“Chef, we’re not going to lose her.” Kane gripped my neck.

I swiped my eyes with my forearm, meeting his gaze. “You can’t know that.”

“I fuckin’ can,” he snarled. “I will go to hell and back. I will make deals with shamans, witches, demons, angels. I will raze this world to ensure that we do not lose her. That, I will vow. Nothing will happen to either of my girls. Never.”

He was saying the words, but it felt like he was etching them into stone. Into blood.

Logically, I knew that Kane couldn’t practice what he promised. I was a woman of science. I didn’t believe in the supernatural.

But I believed in Kane.

“But you h-hate me,” I hiccupped.

The hand at my neck tightened. “Avery Hart,” he growled. “Open your fucking eyes.”

I hadn’t realized I’d squeezed them shut. Opening them, Kane’s gaze was boring into me.

“I do not hate you,” Kane rasped. He leaned forward to lay his lips on mine. “I was mad at you. I’m emotionally fucked-up with a shitty past. I felt abandoned. I lashed out. Because I love you. Because you are my lighthouse in a fuckin’ storm, and without you, I was nothin’ but rubble against rocks.” He rested his forehead on mine. “I do not hate you.” he ran his thumbs beneath my eyes. “You are mine. We have shit to work out, but it’s nothing compared to this.” He rested his hand on my stomach.

Baby Girl did somersaults underneath his palm.

He let out a laugh that sounded like it was mixed with a sob.

“This, the three of us, is my world,” he whispered.

I couldn’t stop crying. It was like a dam had broken, and I couldn’t plug it up.

“I’m sorry,” I sniffled. “I’m sorry I abandoned you. That I was so easy for Brax to fool. That I insulted what we had by giving up so easily. That’s my own past. I know it. And you were locked up. Alone…” I let out a wretched sob at the thought of it.

“Okay, Chef, we’re gonna pause the apologies.” Kane sprinkled my moist cheeks with kisses. “You don’t need to be getting worked up over this. We’re gonna get you home. We’re gonna shower, put you in my tee, then we’re gonna go to bed. You can cry if you want, that’s fine. But we’re gonna save the heartfelt conversations for later. We’ve got plenty of time for that.”

I tried to force my breathing to even. It felt like there was a beast inside of me, a hormonal, heartbroken beast. One I’d been repressing for years, and she had a lot of tears.

“You good to head out, Chef?” Kane asked me.

I sucked in a breath, trying to grasp on to the ice queen Avery Hart. I couldn’t find her.

“I’ll be fine,” I lied.

Kane stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes flitting around my face. Eventually, he leaned forward to kiss me delicately. Then he kissed my belly. Then he rearranged me so I was facing forward in the car and buckled my belt.

Though I wasn’t sobbing uncontrollably, I couldn’t stop crying during the short ride home.

Without a word, Kane got out of the car, plucked me up from my seat then carried me inside.

“Kane,” I hissed through my tears. “That’s so dramatic. I can walk. I’m too heavy.”

“You can walk,” he agreed, unlocking the door. “And you’re not too heavy. I want to carry you, so I’m going to.”

And he did. All the way up the stairs. Then he peeled off my clothes and got us both into the shower. Still, I didn’t stop crying. Not when we got out and he dried me off, peppering my body with kisses. Not when he used the oil all over my body, gingerly massaging out the kinks. Not even when we curled up in bed together, where I was warm and safe.

I didn’t realize I had that much sorrow in my body.

It was off-putting.

Not to Kane, though.

He just held on.