Chapter 16
SAMANTHA
Icouldn’t believe I was fangirling on him.
I didn’t know what had come over me. Wait, yes, I did.
I was carrying the man’s child. The little peanut inside me must be softening me toward him.
There was some kind of instinctual thing happening.
He was my baby daddy and there would always be a connection.
“Thanks,” he said with a soft smile. “I appreciate the compliment. It means something coming from you.”
“How’s the hand?” I asked him. The knuckles were already showing signs of bruising. They were a little swollen as well.
He flexed his hand a few times. “It’s fine. Nothing’s broken. It’ll be a little stiff tomorrow but I’ll be fine.”
I shook my head. “If you would have broken your hand, would that have gotten you kicked out?”
“I could probably fly with my left,” he answered.
“No, you couldn’t,” I said. “You know it and I know it. Not with what you do up there.”
He smirked. “True. But it isn’t broken.”
“What about PitA? Is his broken? How bad is he hurt?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I can’t say I really care. It wasn’t anything serious. No broken bones. His nose was fine, and I avoided his eyes.”
I had to laugh at how matter of fact he was about it. “That was nice of you.”
Our meals were delivered. I stuck with mashed potatoes and sliced turkey with gravy.
I wasn’t sure how my stomach was going to handle it.
My entire life changed the moment I saw that positive pregnancy test. I was suddenly very conscious of my diet.
I needed to eat well and that meant cutting back on the hot wings, fries, and nachos that had become a staple since being on the road.
And the beer. No more beers with the guys.
“Want some of my fries?” he asked.
“No thanks,” I replied.
It was so normal to be sitting down to a meal with him. “Do you want my toast?” I asked him.
“Sure,” he said and reached for a slice of the thick Texas Toast that came with my meal.
“Do you think PitA will give you any more trouble?” I asked.
“Nah,” he shook his head with a bite of the toast in his mouth, “this shit happens. Girls get into screaming matches and don’t talk to each other for a week. Guys knock the shit out of each other and things are cool the next day.”
“Usually,” I added. “Not always.”
“We’ll be fine,” he assured me. “I don’t dislike the guy. I just would rather he not talk around me.”
I had to laugh. “That seems completely reasonable.”
“He’s just one of those guys that gets on my nerves,” he said. “I guess in a lot of ways he reminds me of myself when I was much, much younger. I haven’t been a cocky fucker like that in a long time.”
“You’re very cocky,” I corrected.
He grinned and picked up his burger with mushrooms sliding off. “But I’m not obnoxious.”
“Welllll,” I joked.
“Mildly obnoxious.” He laughed.
“Obnoxious with a cause?” I teased.
“Honestly, I think you’ll find most of us aviators are a little cocky,” he said.
“We have to be. Most of us have busted our asses to prove we’re good enough to be in the cockpit of one of the military’s most expensive pieces of equipment.
We have to be assured of ourselves. If we’re not confident, our COs won’t be confident we can handle the job.
It’s something you learn very early on in the military. ”
“I suppose that makes sense,” I said. “We don’t want the bottom of the class protecting our skies. We can’t have the scared, timid fellows manning one of those things.”
“Exactly,” he said with a satisfied smile.
“But Honcho isn’t like that,” I quickly pointed out.
“He used to be,” Mitch replied. “I met him when I was at the Top Gun Academy. He was one of the instructors. He was pretty fucking cocky. He’s been tamed by age, experience, and his wifey.”
“Ah, is that what it takes to tame a pilot?”
I was joking, but I wasn’t. Did having a kid tame a guy? I wasn’t sure I wanted to tame him, but I did want him to be safe. Even if he never knew about our child, one day the kid might want to know who his or her daddy was. I didn’t want to have to tell them their father died being reckless.
“I’ve heard it’s tamed a few.”
“Do you plan on being tamed?” I asked. “Is there any taming someone like you?”
He slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so. I suppose for me to want to be tamed, I would have to believe being who I am was wrong. I don’t think I’m wrong. Taming me would be like cutting the wings off a bird. Why keep me cooped up? Why cage me?”
My heart was slowly sinking as he spoke. He was right. One of the things that was so appealing about him was his spunk. That bad boy thing was hot. It worked for him. It wasn’t too much. It was just enough, which was why I was now carrying his child. It worked just a little too well.
“You’re committed to bachelorhood?” I asked.
“No. Not really. It’s just, well, my job keeps me on the road a lot. Even the guys that do have families struggle to keep things together.”
“But the Blue Angels is only a two-year tour, right?” I questioned.
“For most, but some of us are three years,” he answered. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you committed to your bachelorette-hood?” he teased.
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not sure if it’s a commitment or a sentence. I travel a lot. I have a home but I rarely see it. I used to try and keep plants, but after killing a cactus, I realized it was not for me.”
Just saying that terrified me. I killed a cactus and I thought I was going to be able to keep a whole human alive. I hoped there were classes I could take.
“You look scared,” he said.
“What?”
“You had a terrified look on your face.” He laughed.
“No. Not terror. I guess it’s a reality check. I got a big fat reality check just now.”
“One of these days, we’ll have to get you up in Number Seven,” he said. “You certainly deserve the chance to go up.”
I wanted to jump at the chance to go up.
Yesterday, I would have been all over the opportunity.
Knowing what I knew now, I couldn’t go up.
I had no idea if it would hurt the baby, but I couldn’t imagine five G’s being good for a pregnancy.
There was also a very good chance I would puke. Not once—a lot.
“Yeah, maybe,” I said with a forced smile.
“Are you sure everything is okay?” he asked.
“Yes, fine. Just still not feeling a hundred percent.”
He looked down at my plate. “I’m sorry I dragged you out.”
“No, it’s fine. I need to eat.”
He gave me a strange look. I realized I might have said too much. “Did you eat today?”
“No, not really,” I said. “I think that might have contributed to my icky feeling.”
“Do you want something else?” he offered. “Maybe some soup and toast. That’s always my go-to when I’m feeling under the weather.”
He was so sweet. This was why I was so confused about him. One minute I wanted to get away and the next I couldn’t stop thinking about a future with him. He was hard and soft, hot and cold, cocky and sweet all at the same time. It was hard to keep up.
“I’m okay.”
He wiped his mouth and sucked down the rest of his beer. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll get an Uber. We can stop at the minimart and grab some essentials.”
“No, you haven’t eaten!”
“I’m good,” he said. “It’s not all that good anyway.”
I loved that he was so in tune to what I was feeling. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I practically dragged you out tonight. I should have listened. Next time tell me to fuck off.”
I laughed and got to my feet. “I would never do that.”
“I’m pretty thickheaded,” he said. “I don’t always listen. I get something in my head and it’s hard for me to let go. You’ve got to be firm.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said.
We left the restaurant and he did what he said he was going to do. He made me stay in the car while he ran inside. He returned with two plastic bags full of goodies. When we got back to the hotel, he carried the bags to my door. I expected him to ask to come in.
“Do you need anything else?” he asked.
“I really am fine,” I said. “I think I just need to get a good night’s sleep.”
“You’re off tomorrow, right?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Take it easy,” he said. “I’ll come by and make sure you’re okay. You have my number. Text me if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Seriously, that is very kind.”
He winked and flashed a smile. “I would do it for anyone on the team.”
“Thank you,” I said again.
“I’d love to take you out for dinner when you’re feeling better,” he said. “No strings or expectations, just dinner.”
I found myself smiling. “I would like that. I promise to be a better dinner companion.”
“You were fine,” he said. “I really hope you’ll feel better by the time we get to Indiana.”
“Me too.” I hoped it would be better, but I wasn’t going to put a lot of hope in that basket. I had a sinking feeling I was in for several months of hell.
I carried the bags inside and took a minute to get myself together.
I debated racing into the hall and calling him back to the room.
I wanted to tell him about the pregnancy.
He deserved to know, right? I was making a decision for him.
That wasn’t fair. He should at least have the choice to be a part of the child’s life.
I was absolutely going to keep the baby.
That was a given. That was the easy decision.
The hard part was planning my life. My job.
My career. Everything was going to be different.
I didn’t think it would be bad, but it would be different.
It was going to be a change and I just needed to be able to go with it.
I kicked off my shoes and opened the bags to see what he had bought for me.
There were a couple cans of soup, crackers, a six pack of ginger ale, and some peppermint candies.
It was so thoughtful and nothing like the man I had seen beating the shit out of his colleagues earlier today. This was the soft side of the man.
Telling him about the pregnancy would definitely rock his world.
I knew there was always a chance of miscarriage.
Telling him and then ending up losing the baby would be pointless.
He had a job that required him to be completely focused.
I would tell him but not for a few weeks.
I’d see how things went and make sure he was in a good place.
The last thing I wanted to do was drop a bombshell on him and then send him up in the air to complete dangerous maneuvers.
Telling him was going to require the right timing.
It’d be nice if I could just wait until the end of the season, but I wasn’t sure my body was going to let me get away with that little secret.
We’d just have to see.