Chapter 48
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
The Apartment
“You need food,” Brooks said as he attempted to get out of bed.
I tightened my arms around him. “Don’t move.”
“Freckles.”
“I’m not hungry,” I lied. And then my stomach groaned.
“What was that now?” he asked in amusement, brushing a kiss to my forehead.
“I don’t want you to move and my stomach eating itself is worth it.”
There was a knock on the door.
“How are people getting into this building?” I demanded.
“Spare keys,” he stated. “Now I have to get up so I can answer the door.”
I reluctantly let him go.
We’d spent the last several hours in bed—holding each other and talking about the future. It had been a perfect bubble of contentment, but now a visitor was determined to pop it.
I sat up and gently touched my scalp as Brooks opened the door.
Muddy stood at the threshold, and she carried a ceramic Dutch oven and a reusable green fabric shopping bag on her shoulder.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, taking in Brooks’ comfortable clothes. “But I thought you might be hungry.”
“You have impeccable timing,” I said, finally climbing off the bed. I was in my pajamas, and I had no shame about it despite it not even being six o’clock.
Muddy set the Dutch oven onto the stove and turned on the burner. “Bean and barley soup. And homemade sourdough.”
“Thank you,” Brooks said.
“Didn’t think either of you would be up for cooking tonight,” she said, her hazel eyes bright as they looked me over. “You are one lucky girl.”
I glanced at Brooks. “The luckiest.”
“When you’re feeling better,” Muddy said. “I’ll take you out shooting again.”
“You took her shooting?” Brooks asked in surprise.
“Yes. Right after she was rejected for a bank loan. I thought she needed something that would make her feel in control. Shooting does that for me; I thought I’d share it with her.”
“And then she offered me the money for the bookstore,” I added. “Two birds one stone.”
“Now about this mountain lion business . . .” Muddy began.
I winced.
“I’m guessing you’ve heard enough from everyone around you, so I’ll say no more about it.”
“Bless you.”
“All right then. You two enjoy your night.”
She looked at me for a moment and then in two strides, she came toward me and enveloped me in her arms “Glad you’re safe, sugar,” she whispered.
I tried to remain stoic, but the tears came unbidden.
She pulled back and smirked. “Oh yeah, I was definitely right.” She glanced at Brooks for a moment before looking back at me, her eyebrow raised.
“The hospital confirmed it. I’m pregnant.” I swiped at my cheeks.
“You weren’t shocked at all by the news, were you?” Muddy asked Brooks.
“No, I wasn’t.” He shrugged.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Tomorrow night, dinner at the Ridge.” She pinned me with a stare.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She nodded and then quietly let herself out of the apartment.
“I forgot to ask her how she got a key,” I said with amusement.
“She must’ve gotten it from Salem or Hadley.”
“Must have.”
“Sit, Freckles. I’ll fix you a bowl.”
I ate two large helpings, much to Brooks’ amusement.
“How’s your head feel?” he asked.
“Not bad,” I said. “When am I allowed to go to sleep?”
“Few more hours,” he said. “Only after we know it’s not going to get worse.”
“How are you going to entertain me?” I demanded.
He flashed a wicked grin.
“I didn’t mean sexy time,” I said. “And to be honest, I don’t feel up to it.”
“I was teasing,” he said. “We can get back into bed and cuddle.”
“You’ll be the big shrimp, and I’ll be the little shrimp?”
“Shrimp? Don’t you mean spoon?”
I shook my head. “No, I mean shrimp. All curled up on our sides. It makes me feel like a shrimp.”
“Cute little shrimp.” He grinned. “Climb into bed. I’ll put the food away.”
I watched him from the bed as he moved around the kitchen, my eyes tracking him.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he got into bed and pulled me into his arms.
“I’m thinking how much nothing has changed despite me knowing about your past.”
“Explain.”
“Well, I forget. Just like I forget that you were in prison. Because you’re not some hardened ex-con . . . at least not to me. You’re not some scary ex-biker. But I know you could be if you needed to be.”
He grasped my hip. “Not with you.”
“No. Not with me,” I agreed.
“But there might be a day when you will see that side of me. I hope you never do, but if it happens, it might scare you . . .”
“Maybe,” I agreed. “Or maybe I’ll feel cherished and protected. I’ll feel special.”
“You are special.”
I wiggled back against him and sighed.
“And I’ll do anything in the world to always make you feel that way,” he whispered as he brushed a kiss to my temple.
Several hours later, I fell asleep in his arms.
Safe.
Sheltered.
Happy.
“Oh, and I’m pregnant,” I finished.
The other end of the line was silent.
“Wyn? Wyn are you still there?”
“Still here,” she croaked. “Is it wrong that I don’t know what to be in shock over first? The mountain lion? Falling into an abandoned mine, or the baby?”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “It’s been a crazy twenty-four hours.”
I wished I could tell her about Brooks’ past. Just so I had someone to share it with, but it wasn’t my past to divulge. And it would be a really bad idea for legal reasons.
“Fuck, Poet,” she grumbled. “I leave and you get yourself into trouble. You need to be on a leash. It’s for your own benefit. I doubt Brooks will let you out of his sight from now on.”
“Probably not,” I agreed.
“So, the pregnant thing . . .”
“Muddy told me I was and then the hospital confirmed it.”
She was silent.
“Wyn?”
“Hmm?”
“What do you think?”
“I think a lot of things.”
“Yes, I know, but what do you think about this?”
“I think if you’re happy, then I’m happy.”
“Then why do you sound so miserable?” I asked.
“As happy as I am for you—and I truly am—it just reminds me that I don’t have what you have.”
“An ex-con cowboy with super sperm?”
She sniggered but then sobered. “A man who loves me and is completely devoted to me.” She sighed. “How’d Brooks take the news when he found out?”
“Momentarily stunned. And then very, very happy.”
“I bet. Where is he? He didn’t go to work this morning, did he?”
“No. He’s at Sweet Teeth picking up some pastries. We had—ah—a late start this morning.”
Late start that began with him sliding into me.
“Hmm. So you never did tell me why you were out alone on a trail. That’s so unlike you.”
Damn.
I’d hoped that Wyn was going to move past that part of the story, but there was no way she was going to let it go.
“We got into a fight,” I said.
“Oh. About the baby? That doesn’t make sense though.”
“Not about the baby,” I said. “About his past.”
“Brooks’ past?”
“Yes.”
“What about his past?”
“His biker past,” I said evasively.
“Are you purposefully being obtuse?”
“Yes.”
She paused. “Oh. You can’t talk about it, can you?”
“No, I can’t. If it makes you feel any better, it’s sort of killing me not to be able to confide in you.”
I winced at the Freudian word choice, glad that Wyn couldn’t see me. Because she’d instantly know something deeper was going on.
“Does it have anything to do with why he was in prison?” she asked.
“No.”
She sighed. “Okay. But you’re all right with it? Whatever it is you can’t tell me?”
“I’m still processing,” I admitted. “But yes. Brooks is Brooks.”
“And he’s the one for you,” she said. “So, you’ll take the good with the bad. I get it.”
“You’re the best, you know that? I mean, seriously the best.”
“Put it on a billboard, will ya?” she joked.
The front door to the apartment opened and Brooks came inside.
“Brooks is back,” I said.
“Tell him hi for me. And congratulations.”
“I will.”
“Oh wait, when are you getting married?” she asked.
“Don’t know. We’ll talk more about it later,” I said.
I hung up with her and set my phone aside and then got up from the bed.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi.”
“Uh-oh. What’s wrong?” I asked, going to him.
He set the box of pastries down onto the counter, along with two to-go cups.
“Brooks?” I pressed.
“I want you to stay calm. Stress isn’t good for the baby.”
I peered at him. “Okay, I’m calm.”
“I called your grandfather when you were in the hospital. I told him who I was in relation to you—not the ex-con part, but the fiancé part.”
“Oh no,” I murmured.
He nodded.
“That means . . . he’s on his way here,” I said. “Isn’t he?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, this is going to be so bad,” I whispered.
“It won’t be that bad,” he assured me.
“You’ve never met my grandfather.”
“Well, I’m about to, aren’t I?” He grinned. “Now I can ask him in person for his blessing.”
I groaned and buried my head in my hands. “He’s going to have me committed.”
He took my hands away from my face and brought them to his lips that pulled up into a smile. “I won’t let him.”
“You think this is funny.”
“Kind of.”
“Why?” I demanded.
“Because you’re panicking and I get to calm you down.”
“You’re not doing a good job. And you think this isn’t something to be worried about, but you haven’t met my grandfather. Don’t let the elbow patches and tweed fool you.”