Page 41 of Rough Return

“If I cried, which I didn’t, it would only be because I couldn’t see the kid on the screen. It all looked like black and white blobs to me.”

Oh, he could say what he wanted—and he’d tried everything from dust in his eye to jealousy over the size of the ultrasound wand—but when he saw their kid even in its black and white blob form, he’d teared up. Like a real father.

He lifted his burger again, then sat it back down. “And maybe—if I cried—it was because my wife seemed so hopeful when she asked if she had to back off from having sex so it wouldn’t hurt the baby.”

She grinned. “I was hopeful. Hopeful he’d say we could have all the sex we wanted.” And thank God he had, because these days, she wanted a lot.

A woman at the next table widened her eyes, and Fiona, whose moods shifted like a summer wind, shot her a scowl. “What? Mind your business. Unless I drag him onto this table and rip his clothes off in front of you”—an idea she could probably get behind—“what we do or talk about over here is none of your business.”

“Fi.” Grier gave her hand a squeeze. “Eat, babe. I think you’re hangry.”

The woman picked up her plate and glass and moved to a booth across the room. “She was nosy.” After a minute, Fiona rolled her eyes. Maybe she had been talking louder than necessary. “Fine.” But instead of getting up to apologize, she slipped off her shoes and laid her foot on the chair between his legs and rubbed it over his dick.

“What are you doing?” He had a sexy, playful tone that matched the sideways glance and glint in his eyes.

“Stretching. Thinking about throwing you on this table and tearing your clothes off.”

Grier waved for the waitress. “Could we get the check?”

Fiona threw her head back and laughed, but if he thought she was kidding, he was in for a long, surprising afternoon.

* * *

Grier watched Fiona sleep. One of his new favorite things to do. Along with holding her. Touching her. Lying beside her. Even talking to her about anything.

He might have come back to Pine Hill under duress, even married her because he was forced, but the tingling in his chest when he looked at her, the weak knees, the way every thought centered around her and them as a couple, that was all him. Out of his control, but all him.

And it scared the shit out of him. He had no idea how to be a husband. Or a father. He knew violence and death. Not a legacy he wanted to pass onto his kid.

Leaving would be the right thing to do, the best thing for Fiona and the baby. But the selfish bastard in him wanted her, the kid, the family he’d never had.

He eased his arm from beneath her and took his phone into the bathroom. He found Kye’s number and waited while it rang.

Kye skipped a hello. “Mrs. Strong, it’s three in the morning. Have you no respect for time zones?”

“It’s three a.m. here, too, dumb ass.” And not at all why he’d called.

“Okay. Whatever. What’s up?”

“Fiona’s pregnant.” Kye would have words of wisdom. He’d read every book ever written practically.

“Shit.”

But first they had to get the issue straight. “I’m kind of okay with it.”

“Really?” Was it really such a strange idea that he would be happy about being a father?

“Yeah.” He smiled. The truth came to him the moment he’d said it. More than okay with it. “Except I don’t know much about kids or changing diapers or… teaching them… stuff.” He sounded like a whiny teenager.

Kye chuckled. “Look, your job is basically getting the kid’s name tattooed on your arm and staying out of Fiona’s way. Women have these God-given instincts about kids. She’ll know what to do.”

But the banging on the bathroom door along with the heavy breathing as she called out to him contradicted Kye with volume. “I gotta go.”

He set the phone down and let her in. Before he had the door open more than a crack, she shoved it out of her way and threw herself against him, arms around his waist and head buried in his chest. Her tears ran down her face and his body. “I had the worst dream.”

“Want to tell me about it?” Good husbands asked questions like that. Plus, he really did want to help her.

“I dreamt I lost the baby.”