CHAPTER 30
“You’re going to be a mom,” Beth whispered, as she unlocked her Jeep.
“You’re going to be a mom,” she repeated, pulling out of the employee parking lot and heading toward the interstate.
“You’re going to be a mom… and you don’t even remember where you live.” The humorless laugh that followed was thin and brittle as she realized she’d turned into the wrong parking lot—her old apartment complex. With a sigh, she backed out and pointed the Jeep toward the loft.
By the time she parked in the underground garage, the phrase had stopped echoing in her mind.
What remained was a strange numbness—something quieter than panic, heavier than shock.
Not even waking up married had felt like this.
Maybe it was denial. Maybe survival instinct. Whatever it was, it kept her moving.
Beth stepped off the elevator, kicked off her shoes, and dropped her keys.
Her purse landed somewhere near the couch.
In the kitchen, she pulled milk from the fridge, took a long swig straight from the carton, and left it on the counter.
She peeled off her scrub top and tucked it where the milk had been.
Up the stairs, she shed the rest of her clothes—pants, bra, socks—discarding them along the way like emotional armor. By the time she reached the bathroom, she was bare-skinned and raw-nerved.
The icy spray from the shower hit her like a slap.
She didn’t flinch.
She just stood there, letting it bite her skin until it was too much to bear. Then, slowly, she tapped the temperature panel, warming the water until the steam softened the air and the heat soaked into her muscles.
Her mind caught up in fragments.
“I am pregnant,” she said aloud, both hands cradling her flat stomach.
“I am pregnant with Dr. Bryce Jensen’s baby.”
The words dropped like stones into the silence, each one echoing back with too much weight. Her mind spun to the morning she woke up married, to the loop of chaos and tenderness they’d been stuck in ever since.
She reached for the shampoo and squeezed too hard,
popping the lid clean off.
“I know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him,” she whispered. “Romans 8:28.”
Her voice trembled, but the prayer steadied her. Gave her something solid to hold.
She leaned her forehead against the cool tile. “I wish I could see what ‘good’ looks like right now. But You didn’t ask me to see—You asked me to trust. ‘For we live by faith, not by sight.’” Her voice cracked. “Oh, Father… fill me with faith. Please. This feels too big. Too much.”
A long, shaky breath slipped from her lungs. “Get it together, Elizabeth Jean Stoner. You’ve known this was a possibility since Vegas. Now it’s real. You’re going to be a mom.”
Her fingers pressed again to her stomach.
“Lord, I know I’m spiraling. Help me. Help me remember—I’m not having a baby with a stranger. I’ve spent the last month getting to know Bryce. Seeing how he loves me. How he loves You…”
Her eyes flew open as she gasped.
“Oh no. Bryce!”
She rinsed quickly, turned off the water, and rushed into the closet, reaching for the first thing she saw.
It happened to be a small stack of Bryce’s folded laundry waiting to be put away. Without thinking, she grabbed a pair of his sweats and a hoodie, tugging them on over damp skin as she yanked her wet hair into a ponytail.
Her feet barely touched the ground as she jogged toward the stairs—until she hit the fifth step and came to a dead stop.
A vase of flowers sat on the kitchen island.
Daisies.
But it wasn’t the flowers that made her freeze—it was the men standing behind them.
Men. Plural.
Bryce… and someone else.
The stranger beside her husband was taller, broader. His features were striking, his nose clearly broken at least once, giving him a rugged edge—though softened by the warmth in his kind, brown eyes.
“Bryce!” Beth’s voice pitched higher than she intended. Her gaze darted to the stairs, where her clothes lay like a breadcrumb trail from the elevator to the bedroom door. Her stomach flipped. “When did you get home?”
“Before you did.” Bryce’s grin was all mischief and heat. “You were in your own world. Didn’t hear me calling your name.”
Beth flushed scarlet, her eyes bouncing between the two men—both wearing amused expressions that made her want to sink into the floor.
“So you, um… saw… me when I came in?” she asked, trying to casually scoop up the scattered clothing as she descended, bundling them tightly in her arms.
The man beside Bryce answered as she reached the bottom. “After you grabbed the milk and I realized you were about to take your shirt off, I turned around and covered my eyes.”
“I didn’t,” Bryce added dryly.
Beth glanced around in panic, searching for the missing shirt.
“You left it in the fridge,” Bryce said with a low, rumbling chuckle, nodding toward the counter where her top now sat—folded neatly on the island.
She groaned, covering her face with one hand while the other clutched the pile of laundry to her chest. “Kill me now.”
The words came out muffled and miserable.
Bryce’s chuckle deepened, low and unapologetically pleased. His gaze lingered, dark and heated—she had wrecked him without even trying.
He stepped in front of her, blocking his brother’s view. His hands found her hips with quiet confidence, grounding her. He pressed a soft kiss to her flaming cheek, then leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear.
“Next time, I’m…” he lowered his voice to a whisper and spoke a promise meant only for her.
Her lips twitched despite herself, the ghost of a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth as she shook her head.
“I think it’s time you took a walk, little brother,” Bryce said over his shoulder, still watching her.
“That’s your brother?” Beth whispered, half-shouting, and buried her face in the crook of his neck.
“Yeah,” Bryce muttered, running a hand down his face.
“Got a message from him saying he was here, tried calling you several times. No answer. Since he has a key, I figured I should get home before you walked in on a random guy in your kitchen.” His eyes slid toward his brother. “He’s always had stellar timing.”
There was a dry edge to his voice, but the underlying affection couldn’t be missed—the kind of tone born from a lifetime of shared memories, petty arguments, and deep-rooted loyalty. A tone that said, he’s my brother and I love him—but right now, I could strangle him.
“He’s leaving. Now.”
Beth stepped back and tugged on Bryce’s hand. “Brrrryyyce, you can’t just kick him out like that. Come on—introduce us.”
She couldn’t imagine doing that to Lynn.
“Yes I can, but fine.” Bryce rolled his eyes with playful annoyance—though his tone leaned more annoyed than playful. “Lizzy, this is my younger brother, Brock. King of bad timing. Brock, meet my beautiful wife, Elizabeth. Now please leave.”
“Bryce! That’s rude!” Beth elbowed him and extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you—I had hoped to meet you, but I was told you couldn’t get away from your ministry this time of year.” She glanced at Bryce with a raised brow, as if to say, Really?
Brock grinned and bypassed her handshake, pulling her into a relaxed hug. “Nah, it’s chill. Good to finally meet you, sis. Wish I could say I had heard about you, but... Bryce never mentioned you. Just dropped a wedding announcement in my inbox like, ‘Surprise!’”
He slanted a look at his brother. “Real subtle, bro.”
As soon as the hug ended, Bryce’s arm slid around Beth’s waist, tugging her back to his side with a gesture that was more sweetly possessive than territorial.
Beth looked up at him, eyes wide. “You waited to tell him until now?”
Bryce shrugged sheepishly. He didn’t want to admit he’d waited until he was sure she wouldn’t back out.
Until the moment she gave him the announcements, he hadn’t been certain their marriage would last long enough to warrant telling his family.
In fact, he’d hit send at 1 AM.—half afraid she’d change her mind by morning.
“Bryce, that’s awful. Brock, I’m so sorry you found out that way.”
Brock just grinned, his surfer-calm unshaken.
“Eh, I’ve known him my whole life. That announcement style?
Totally on brand. Kinda-like back in high school when he fell hard for this new girl, Mallory.
Hadn’t even talked to her yet, and he’s already telling everyone he’s gonna marry her.
Showed up to youth group in a pink button-up and frosted tips. ..”
“Brock…” Bryce groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
“We won’t get into what she said,” Brock continued, undeterred. “But the next week, this guy tells our youth leader he’s considering a vow of celibacy. Said he wanted to follow in Paul’s footsteps.”
Bryce buried his face in both hands. “You promised never to bring that up again.”
Beth burst out laughing. “Wait—you’re telling me he hasn’t always been smooth?”
“Nahhh, he hasn’t always been a silver-tongued devil…” Brock shot her a wink.
“Really? Because I have it on good authority, he’s been a flirt since puberty.”
“He’s tried since puberty,” Brock said. “But let’s just say, his first few crushes ended more like a wipeout in ankle breakers than a clean ride to shore.”
Beth laughed—even if the surfing metaphor was totally lost on her.
Brock looked at the couple and really saw them—saw the fatigue in Beth’s eyes, the tension still lingering in Bryce’s posture. Sensitive and intuitive, he could feel the emotional undertow threatening to pull them under. The rip current was just beneath the surface.
“As much as I’m looking forward to getting to know you, B-Man—” Beth mouthed “B-Man?” at Bryce with a grin.
“—told me you had a righteous day at work, and clearly, you two need a beat. I’m gonna dip out and grab some dinner.
Should be gone a couple hours. That enough time for you two?
” He winked at Beth, making her blush and Bryce laugh.