Page 48 of Through the Storm

I snort despite myself. “Ben.”

“I’m kidding,” he says gently. “Mostly.”

Then his expression turns serious. Steady. The version of him that always made me feel safe.

“Listen to me.” His eyes find mine. “I don’t care about genetics. Or biology. Or any of that.”

My throat tightens.

“I choose you,” he continues. “And I choose the baby. If Logan’s involved, we’ll figure it out. But I’m not going anywhere.”

I stare at him, stunned.

“Ben. You need to think this through. You didn’t even hesitate,” I whisper.

“Why would I hesitate?” he asks. “This isn’t a problem to solve. It’s a life to protect. Logan’s solid. If he’s in this, that just means we’ll have one more teammate.”

My breath catches in my throat. But I force myself to keep going. “Ben… I wasn’t kidding when I said he’s not the only one I was with around that time.”

Ben’s brows knit together. “How many are we talking about?”

“Four other possibilities besides you,” I admit quietly and brace for judgement.

He blinks once, clearly thrown, before straightening his shoulders slightly. “Okay. We’ll figure it out, Katy. With whoever is or isn’t on our team. I promise you.”

I stare at him, a little shocked. “Wow. You really are an athlete, aren’t you?”

He leans back against the counter beside me. “Listen, I grew up watching my uncle Jack struggle to raise three kids by himself. My mom always used to tell me it was up to her and Dad to be part of his team. It’s not easy raising a kid. The more help we get, the better.”

I stare at him, genuinely stunned. Somehow, impossibly, he’s making this feel less terrifying.

“How are you being sonormalabout this?” I ask.

He shrugs again. “The thing I care about most is you. The rest we’ll figure out. Would I prefer to be the biological dad? Absolutely. But if I’m not, that’s okay too. I’ll just be another type of dad. No matter what title I have, Iwillbe there, Katy Cat.”

My mouth actually falls open.

“If you let me, of course. But that’s what I want.” He adds with that confidence I admire so much.

I’m speechless after that. And he doesn’t say much more. We order takeout. Watch a rom-com. We’re sitting close on the couch like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His arm stays around me, like he’s already memorized how to make sure I’m comfortable.

Eventually, he stands and grabs his jacket.

“I should go,” he says reluctantly.

“Thanks for today.” I walk him to the door.

“Good night, Katy.”

I stand there watching him head toward his car, weirdly unwilling to let the night end. Unwilling to let him go. He’s so amazing and so hard to stay mad at.

That’s when the rain starts.

It comes out of nowhere, relentless. Grandma Patty’s porch lightglows through the downpour as I stand there barefoot, watching puddles form in the gravel drive.

Ben is halfway to his truck when I call his name.

He turns, rain already plastering his hair to his forehead.