CHAPTER 8
AVERY
Even when silence stretches between us, it doesn’t feel awkward. It’s weighted, but I’m not expecting anything less. I did just barge into his job with my baby bump leading the way. The whole interaction could have gone a lot worse.
As it is, I’m not sure I could imagine it going any better. There was no yelling, the third degree from people he cares about was minimal, and Bridger accepted that I’m pregnant with his baby without a problem. Definitely the best-case scenario all around.
I’m not sure I’ll remember the names of everyone I met considering the daze of anxiety I was in. I couldn’t look away from Bridger while he was processing me being there and my baby bump. The fog hasn’t exactly lifted either. How could it? This whole thing is surreal.
From finding out our one night together paired with the broken condom to make a new life.
To hiding it from everyone. Then I had my bump exposed by a coffee mishap when coffee is supposed to heal and not hurt.
Not to mention getting fired and disowned which led me to going to the one place I could think of.
The only thing that could have made me showing up at Vibrant Ink better, was if Bridger had wrapped me up in his strong arms. But the way he caressed my baby bump with awe written all over his face gave me a feeling of warmth I wasn’t prepared for.
Then there was the way he led me out of the tattoo shop with his hand firmly on the small of my back as if he wanted to be careful with me and keep me safe. I’m damn lucky I didn’t swoon or become a puddle of pregnancy hormones on the sidewalk.
I looked up at him and whispered, “I drove. I can follow you to wherever we’re going?”
From the way he scowled at the mere suggestion, I knew he wasn’t happy about the suggestion. It was almost comical how much he visibly hated the idea.
“No,” he grunted, “I’ll drive. We can swing back by for your car later or tomorrow or whenever.
” His hand came up and he cupped my face before the rough pad of his thumb swiped over my cheek where I’m sure you could still see the remnants of my tears from earlier.
“You’ve had a rough day, and I’d feel a lot better if you didn’t drive right now.
Let me,” he blew out a breath and swallowed hard before starting again, “Please let me help you.”
“Okay, Bridger,” I murmured, and his dark eyes lit up from within.
So, what if he’s only doing all of this for the baby? That’s enough. Wanting him to hold me and help me put my broken pieces together is selfish.
I startle when he clears his throat. “Sorry,” his voice is gruff, but not unfriendly or cold. Again, I’m looking at it as a win.
He could be pissed at me. I’m not sure I would be as gracious as he’s been if I were in his shoes. He would have every right to be angry about the fact that I’ve kept the news of him fathering a child from him for the last four months.
“Do you know the gender?” His eyebrows pull together as he asks and his muscles tighten as if he’s preparing for my answer.
“No,” I tell him honestly, “it felt wrong to find out without you there.” When he glances at me, the surprise written on his face is kind of fucking adorable. I sigh and look out the window as we move through the city toward wherever he lives.
Honestly, I should probably be more concerned about where we’re going, but trusting Bridger feels natural and I’m not going to second guess myself now. I came to him with nothing except for a lot of heartbreak and a round belly. He’s earned a little trust from me.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner,” I whisper. “I think since I was hiding my pregnancy from my parents, it was easier for me to ignore needing to tell you. It was wrong of me and wasn’t fair to you.”
“Avery,” his voice is so soft when he calls my name.
I make a humming sound, but I don’t turn toward him because if I do then I’m sure I’ll start crying again.
I’ve shed enough tears today. His large hand finds my thigh and gives a squeeze.
“I’m not mad at you for not telling me. Even though I’m the father, you’re the one doing all the work right now.
You don’t owe me anything. I’m just-,” his words cut off and he clears his throat.
My curiosity gets the better of me and I look his way. I can see the conflict in his eyes even though he’s looking at the road ahead of him like it owes him something. His lips are set in a thin line and there’s a tick in his jaw.
I can’t help but push, “You’re just, what?”
His shoulders deflate and he lets go of my thigh to run his palm along his jawline and his fingers through his beard. When he puts his hand back on my thigh, it helps settle some of my frazzled nerves.
“I’m going to be honest with you Avery. I think it’s the only way to make any of this work between us.” My heart pounds with his words and hope tries to soar through my soul, but I push it back. He’s probably talking about co-parenting, not us being together.
Get a grip, Avery. This isn’t a romance novel. This man is not going to fall in love with you because you’re pregnant with his baby. There is no happily ever after to be found here, but he’s giving you what you need right now, and helping you when he doesn’t owe you anything.
Thankfully, the hope fizzles and lands at my feet. Just where it should be. I can’t get swept away in his kindness. Heartbreak won’t make us better parents, quite the opposite. Our baby is the only thing that matters right now.
“Okay,” it’s not easy to push the word past my lips, but I manage. And then I brace myself.
“I never wanted a family.” My neutral mask stays in place by sheer force of will as he glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “I had a shitty childhood. I won’t bore you with the details, but I never saw what love could be or a real family.”
My heart aches for him. Even though my parents are still together, at least on paper, I didn’t grow up with a strong example of love and family either. I hate that this is something we have in common, but it wasn’t exactly something within our control.
“I’ve seen that love is real, and relationships do work, but only because of the family I’ve found who have accepted me as I am.” He shakes his head and sighs. “Having kids wasn’t even something I thought about.”
“I’m sorry,” I choke out.
“No, Avery,” his voice is firm, “you don’t need to apologize.
We were both there that night. You’re not to blame.
While I wish you had come to me sooner, I don’t blame you for not seeking me out.
It was supposed to be one night.” His words hang like storm clouds between us.
“But I have to admit I couldn’t stop thinking about you, even after five months. ”
I’m shocked at his admission and my heart flutters. Hope tries to make more of it again, but I push it to the side. Our priority has to be our baby. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” I tell him, his ability to be vulnerable when he doesn’t have to be pulling the truth from me, “and it wasn’t just because of peanut here.” I gesture toward my bump.
A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. “Peanut,” he repeats with reverence in his voice. “Do you have any pictures? From an ultrasound?”
“You seem to know a lot about this whole pregnancy thing for someone who didn’t want kids,” I keep my voice light even though I’m incredibly curious.
“Wyatt’s wife just had a baby like three months ago,” he admits. “You pick up on a few things.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I swear I can see a blush peeking out from the top of his beard.
Cute.
Not that I’ll be saying that out loud.
“I do have some ultrasound pictures. They’re at my parent’s house where I’ve been living. I started a baby book when I found out I was pregnant, and I put them in there. It’s one of the few things I don’t want them to throw away.”
Bridger scowls and shakes his head. “You said you have 48 hours to clear your stuff out?”
I sigh and look out the window again, hating this conversation because it’s just a reminder of what my parents value, at least my dad, and it sure as fuck isn’t me or their grandchild.
“Yeah,” my voice breaks and I swallow hard before admitting, “I should have never moved back into their house after law school, but I just thought…,” my words trail off as tears fill my eyes.
He squeezes my thigh and pushes, just like I did with him, “You just thought, what?”
“That maybe they’d be proud of me, and we could be a real family,” I huff, the heartbreak clear to hear in my voice. “I don’t know why I thought it could ever happen, but I’ve always done what my father expected of me, I guess expecting something from him, or my mom, was too much.”
The weight of Bridger’s hand on my thigh grounds me and I find myself covering his hand with mine and giving a squeeze. It’s a silent action filled with gratitude I hope he can feel.
“You don’t need them, Avery,” there’s so much conviction in his tone. “If you let them in, you’ll have a whole family at your back.”
I look at him out of the corner of my eye and blurt, “Have you let them in?”
He stiffens but then forces himself to relax. “No,” he grunts, “not really, but I’m trying.”
“Then I’ll try too,” I murmur.
He nods, but before he can say anything else, he’s pulling into the driveway of a gorgeous home. It’s not overly large, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find three or four bedrooms inside. It’s all clean lines and glass. From the outside it looks more like an architectural sculpture than a house.
“Wow,” I breathe out and look over at Bridger. I swear that blush is back, but I bite my tongue to stop myself from commenting on it. “Your house is gorgeous.”
Honestly, gorgeous is an understatement. It’s a lot more modern than I was expecting. And it’s clear from one look that it’s well maintained.
“Come on,” he murmurs softly, “I’ll give you a tour.”