Protect (38 page)

“Umm, sure,” she scurried after him. “I think
there’s beer in the fridge.”

“So you’re stoppin’ in for an overnight
break,” he said over his shoulder, head ducking into the fridge.
“You not sleepin’ well?”

Damn it. “No, not really.”

“Go ahead and grab some sleep then. I’ll put
your stuff away.”

“No, Fritter, really—”

“I can think I can figure out where your
groceries should go.”

She was diving for the bag but the law of
averages said he’d find the smallest box in the lot first, and as
he pulled the pink cube free of the paper bag she froze, heart
jumping up into the middle of her throat.

Then she could only watch him stare at
it.

He had no idea what the fuck was in his
hand.

Okay, he had
some
idea, but it was a
confusing moment to be standing in Downey’s kitchen, relieved as
fuck to see her, wanting to wrap her up in his arms despite her
fuck off
body language, and then to be pulling a home
pregnancy test out of her groceries? Nah, he was good and
confused.

Maybe the kid knocked up some chick?

“Fritter—”

“Is this…” He turned to her, box held up,
tilting his head. “Is it yours?”

Her arms crossed over her stomach and she
looked down and to her right, mouth moving to find something to
say.

Then it hit him. Like a gale force, Mach 5,
Grade-A tropical storm.

“Fuck,” he muttered, setting the beer down
and staring at the box like it could sting him. He didn’t drop it,
though. He was thinking.

“I’m late,” she whispered, and it sounded
like she was close to tears. “I’ve been sick every morning the past
two weeks. I’m exhausted all the time. If that’s what’s causing it,
I’m likely about ten weeks in. And I just never noticed because
there’s been so much going on—”

It was a blur, but he tossed the box in the
bag and rushed at her anyway, scooping her up in his arms and
pressing her close. His heart was hammering a fucking triple-time
polka but he couldn’t help smiling over her shoulder and she
stopped talking and eventually hugged him back.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, feeling her sag
in his hold. Her hands tightened on his shirt and he realized they
were under his kutte. “Sharon, baby. It’s okay”

She shook, and he knew she was crying.

“Shhh, baby. There’s nothin’ to cry over. I
promise. I ain’t goin’ anywhere. You’re not doin’ this alone,
okay?”

He felt her nod.

“I got you, Sharon. I promise. I got
you.”

Then he just hugged her close, feeling her
calm, before she eventually pulled away far enough to tuck her head
under his chin. She didn’t let him go, so he took the opportunity
to run his hand through her ponytail. She sniffled a bit, then,
sounding very much like a child, she said, “I’m scared.”

“Me too, baby. I mean, I just found out. I
got a bit of a freak out goin’ on but ... I ain’t scared of you
havin’ my baby. That much I know.”

“It’s so much work, Fritter. It’s work and
it’s never-ending.”

“And I’ll help as much as I can.”

“You say that now but—”

“Hey.” He pushed her back to hold her by the
arms, making her face him. “I only met my daddy once. I don’t even
remember, that’s just what Ma told me. He knew about me and he
chose to have fuck all to do with me. I know what that’s like. I
can’t be like that.”

Her eyes were searching his face, probably to
see if he was just in shock. He kinda felt like he was, but the
more he spoke the more he felt rooted in what he was saying.

“We started casual, I know. But you showed up
one day upset, you cried, you told me what was botherin’ you, and
Sharon ... I don’t know. That changed me, baby.” He tucked some
hair behind her ear. “I liked that. I liked you comin’ to me for
comfort. Makin’ me feel like I could keep you safe, give you
somewhere to speak your mind and actually cry in front of me.”

She looked down again.

“Hey,” he said softly, bringing her eyes back
up. “And when I came to you after Mickey, you let me in again.
You’d had a shit day and you still let me in, gave me what I
needed.”

“But Fritter, a baby—”

“You thinkin’ of gettin’ rid of it?”

She looked horrified. “No, I couldn’t.”

“Puttin’ it up for adoption?”

She just shook her head.

“If you’re pregnant right now, and it sounds
like you’re pretty certain you are, this baby’s comin’. No matter
how much we go back and forth over what
we
are at the
moment. We’re his or hers’ parents. We can’t be freakin’ out. We
can only mean to do right.”

She face-planted in his chest, and he smiled
as he wrapped his arms around her. Her hands were on his chest,
head to the side, breathing softly while still sniffling.

“Just don’t cut me out,” he asked, making
circles on her back.

“You want this?”

“Yeah. I think I do.”

“I was young with Brayden. Or,
young
er
. I don’t know what this baby will do to me. To my
body. I might never get it back.”

He had to smile at the wall. “Is that what
you’re worried about? Really?”

“One of the things. You’re younger. You’re
good-looking. I know women like you.”

“So ... you sayin’ you want to be with me,
then?”

She pulled back, looking a bit surprised.
“Oh. I mean, I thought—”

He cut up laughing, sliding his hand along
the side of her neck. “I’m just teasin’ you, baby. I’m plannin’ on
being with you and you only, especially if you’re havin’ my
baby.”

“So while I was gone ...”

He shook his head. “Not a single woman. I was
waitin’ for you.”

Her eyes sparkled at that, and she bit her
lip. If he didn’t know any better, he’d bet she was fighting a
smile.

“Does that make you happy?”

She just nodded, and he lowered his head to
kiss her lightly. A surge of want ran through him as she returned
the pressure of his mouth, and his hand reflexively tightened on
her back. Before he could slide his tongue into her she stepped
back with a deep breath.

“Wait,” she whispered. “I’ve been holding it
so I can pee for the tests. I gotta go to the bathroom.”

In all their time together he’d never seen
her use the facilities; at the hotel or here at her house. There
was something so
familiar
about her just blurting out that
she had to “pee.”

He chuckled, kissing her jawline and stepping
away. “Okay. Go take the tests. I’ll put the groceries away.”

“Okay.” She dug another box out of the
grocery bag then scurried to the half-bathroom at the end of the
hallway off the living room.

Everything she’d bought needed refrigeration
so that was an easy task to sort out. By the time he had the bags
folded up and stowed in her recycle bin she was leaving the
washroom, a flushing toilet echoing behind her as she approached
her sofa. He couldn’t read her face.

“So?” he asked, walking to her and holding
his arms out for an explanation.

“Need to wait two minutes.” She sank into her
couch, pulling a toss pillow into her lap and hugging it to her
chest. He sat next to her, putting his arm across the back of the
sofa. Her eyes were on the floor, her hands twisting and pulling at
the corner of the pillow she was clutching. He’d never seen her so
unsettled. Even when the club had found out about the two of them
she was poised and calm.

And yet
now
he was feeling calmer
while she fidgeted. Maybe it was shock—that was a possibility. But
when he looked at her right then, imagined them having a child in
this house, a child they had made, he couldn’t freak out. It wasn’t
in him to cringe and curse his luck.

This was because, while she was gone these
past two weeks, he’d had time to think. And he wanted her. He
wanted her as his woman, and he needed the chance to prove he could
be her man. He knew he could be; she would take more convincing,
and that was his fault. He was immature at times, and, being
honest, he was an outlaw. But she knew that when she started up
with him. On some level she got off on that. She had to.

He’d put the fear of God into Turnbull’s kid
for her. Waited outside his old man’s dealership where the kid
worked, after hours one night. Hadn’t touched him, just snuck up on
him, shoved him against his vehicle and informed him that he and
his father would have some uncomfortable questions to answer if
anyone bothered the sheriff anymore.

Kid had nearly pissed himself.

It made him feel capable, like he was taking
care of his woman and making it safe for her to come home. So a
child was another reason to keep her close. His motives were
somewhat underhanded, but he had to admit it pleased him that now
she couldn’t bolt. Not if he
wanted
to be involved.

“C’mere,” he murmured when her twitching
became annoying. He reached for her shoulder and she tucked the
pillow behind her and crawled his way, sliding along his side under
his arm. She put her head on his shoulder like it was the most
natural thing in the world. “I know I ain’t the ideal man to have a
kid with. Sometimes I’m gone for days. There’s always the chance I
could end up in jail. But I know you’re strong enough to deal with
my bullshit, and the fact is you won’t
need
me. But I
promise, Sharon. You let me, and I’ll make sure you know every day
how much I appreciate you givin’ me all that. You will never go to
sleep doubtin’ if I’m with you. I will always,
always,
have
your back, baby.”

She put her hand in the center of his chest
and pushed up slightly, the better to see him. Her eyes shone wet
again, and he used his thumb to brush off the first tear. “I’m
believing you.”

“Good. ‘Cause I mean it.”

“And I like it when you call me baby.”

He grinned, feeding his fingers into her
silky hair. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, making
his grin wider. “You like me callin’ you that?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why. Anyone else I’d
likely punch in the face. But I like it when you say it.”

“Because you like
me.
”

“It might just be the accent,” she said,
opening her eyes and grinning.

Fuck him, she was teasing him.

“Nah,” he growled, hand cupping the back of
her head now. “You like
me
.”

When he pulled she moved further up his body,
close enough he could kiss her properly, titling his head to slide
his tongue into her mouth as she gave a soft whimper, her tongue
ready to meet his. Holy shit, Sharon Downey was kissing him sweet,
melting into his body, her hands sliding around his sides,
clutching his ribs.

When she got to squirming against him his
cock was rock hard and aching. Two weeks was a long stretch for him
and the women at the clubhouse had been plenty willing to make him
feel better but he’d resisted. This was better. This was so much
fucking better.

His hands pulled at her T-shirt and then
found the skin of her back, sliding over her warm softness to
marvel at the pronounced dip at her spine, sliding lower and she
crowded upward, giving him enough access to cup her ass, which he
did under her shorts and over her underwear.

With a groan he rolled his hips upward into
her belly, the softness of her crossing his eyes. He wanted her, he
wanted her more than he’d wanted anyone. Because she was
his,
and hopefully she wanted him to be hers.

And he was. Absolutely.

There was a loud ringing in the room
suddenly, and she pulled her mouth from his, gazing down at him
with a soft and hazy look that he really liked. Not quite
fuck-drunk, but not far off.

“That’s the timer,” she said, sounding scared
again.

“You want me to go look?”

She shook her head and planted her hands on
either side of him to push herself up. “No, I got it.”

“Okay, baby.” He grinned as she shivered at
the word
baby
then watched her walk to the small bathroom
door. With a grunt he stood too, hands going to his pockets to
wait.

When she reentered she was holding two
plastic cylinders, eyes on them, her face again hard to read. Then
she looked up, eyes wet, and with a shuddering breath she
pronounced, “Pregnant.”

He didn’t know what she was thinking. If she
was disappointed or what. “What do you want me to do?”

“I need a hug.”

“You got it, baby.” And she did. He was on it
immediately, loving that she wrapped her arms around him so
readily, resting her head on his shoulder. “What do we do now?”
Maybe talking about the next steps would help her snap out of
this.

“I have to go see my doctor tomorrow. Have
him do a test to be absolutely sure. Then he’ll likely have all
kinds of warnings about pregnancy at my age, give me a good scare.
Nightmares for weeks.”

He gave her a slight squeeze. “Everythin’
will be fine. You’re healthy.”

“I went online to look for common
complications of pregnancy after 40. I didn’t sleep for four
nights.”

“We aren’t going to do that,” he assured her.
“We’ll go with what the doctor says.”

“Okay.”

Fuck, the way she was clinging to him made
him feel ten feet tall. And there was no doubt in his mind that he
could take care of her and their kid. He knew he could do this.
“What do you need, right now?”

“Can you stay with me tonight?”

Another squeeze. “That’s no hardship, baby.
You got it.”

High blood pressure. Gestational diabetes.
Low birth weight. Still born children.

Sharon’s head was spinning by the time she
was leaving the doctor’s office, but it was all warnings and
information she’d been expecting. She had to make sure to stay
healthy, one thing the doctor kept telling her. “Stay healthy.
You’re in great shape considering your age. Hell,
any
age.”