“Azariah, I’ll text you later.”
The call ended. I knew what the test would say before I read it.
I took a breath and turned it over.
Pregnant.
And now was the appropriate time for a freak-out of epic proportions. The type of freak-out that began with confetti cannons shooting unused condoms and ended with banners reading What Did You Think Would Happen.
Of course I was pregnant.
At the time, rolling with Zach on the floor of the library was one of the most wild and uncontrolled nights of my life. It was passionate. It was romantic.
And Zach was exactly the type of super-strong, he-man, rough-and-tumble cowboy who would be super fertile. Able to jump tall buildings in a single bound and overcome every advancement of modern medicine just to get his girl.
Here I thought the rug burn on my knees would be the mistake of the night.
Nope.
Mega wrong.
Oh, so very wrong.
I sighed and held my head in my hands. Then I grimaced, threw the stick down, and washed my face.
This wasn’t good.
Pregnant.
Holy shit.
What was I supposed to do now?
I asked myself that question in a fancy powder rooms with imported tile, marble vanity, and beautiful fixtures. The bathroom was so big I could deliver, raise, and lose a baby in the room.
The worse part was that I freaked out in only one of the extravagant bathrooms in the mansion. Hell, I had two closets larger than my room in Momma’s apartment. The garage even dwarfed my old apartment. I could fill the estate with hundreds of babies and still have space left over.
I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
My chest tightened. My hands trembled, but I swallowed a quick sob.
It wasn’t the room that scared me. Or the money. Or trying to take care of it. Him? Her?
It was Zach.
I could handle the heartache of him deploying, heading back into combat, leaving me for good, but what would it do to an innocent baby? I remembered what it was like growing up without a father.
I hated the thought of anyone else—especially my own baby—feeling the same.
“Figures.” I pitched everything in the garbage and covered it with two dozen Kleenex. I considered flushing the test, but that didn’t seem like a good idea. It was a plastic stick, not an unfortunate goldfish. “Now what?”
The door slammed.
Oh, shit. That was what.
Zach.
Well…he was the one person who probably also deserved to hear the news. Generally fathers liked to know they were fathers. Most of them. The good ones, at least. Not that I knew any great fathers, but I really, really thought Zach might have turned into one.
If he even wanted to be a father.
If he hadn’t already pledged to return to his overseas missions. Dangerous missions. He nearly died on a battlefield only a year ago. My stomach lurched, but this fear tasted different than my usual nausea. Distance wasn’t the only problem that would separate my baby from her father.
Zach could get hurt.
He could die.
That was a little too much to take in right now, especially when most of my insides were trying to heave upwards and escape. Twenty-one years old, and I was pregnant.
The revelation knocked me on my ass and saw fit to keep me there. How the hell was I supposed to tell Zach if I hadn’t even come close to processing it yet?
I needed some time to think. The house was big enough for me to hide in. I’d find a cozy place for the afternoon, make some tea, and I’d…figure it all out. Child-rearing 101 for the woman who just flunked out of college.
Oh, that didn’t help the stress.
I snuck out of the bathroom too slowly. Zach rounded the corner as the door creaked. Thirty-thousand square feet and not a single can of WD-40 for the hinges.
“Hey,” he said.
My shock turned to annoyance. For days he had been completely and totally absent—rushing around doing God-knows-what to get everything ready for his deployment. I called, texted, even made a couple dinners with extra servings for when he got back.
Apparently Zach was super-fertile but not super-considerate.
“Where have you been?” My voice edged a little too harsh.
I inwardly groaned. My anxiety released in a bitchy herald. I didn’t want to start an argument. I took a breath. “I’ve been worried.”
Zach shrugged. “Had something to take care of. I’ve got a headache. I’m going to lay down.”
Another headache? He did look pale, and the sharpness of his green eyes dulled. He hadn’t smiled yet.
All I needed was a flash of his dimples. If I could just have a moment with my light-hearted, goofy Zach, everything would have been okay.
But he didn’t give me that. Even his voice turned gruff.
What was wrong with him?
And if he was already in a bad mood, what would a pregnancy do to him?
I crossed my arms, inadvertently hiding my tummy from him, like now that I discovered the baby I’d suddenly balloon to the size of a watermelon. As far as I knew, women didn’t do that.
I hoped.
“Wait,” I said. Zach hesitated before heading upstairs. “I…I have something to tell you.”
“Can it wait?”
He bit the words. I frowned. What a way to welcome a child into the world. Hey, I’m pregnant, with a resounding response of Fuck. No one deserved that, even a little peanut sized surprise that complicated everything.
He’d said he wanted a chance, just a shot to be with me. And he promised what I felt for him was a good thing and not the mistake of my lifetime.
Or worse—a mistake of the baby’s lifetime.
“I would really like to talk to you now,” I said.
Zach rubbed his face, tugging his hand over the blonde scruff on his chin. “What is it?”
He did not need to take an attitude with me. I snorted. I wasn’t about to shout I was pregnant at him in the same tone I’d yell for him to pick up his laundry. We lived in a mansion for Christ’s sake. The money to our name almost required us discussing a child over a candlelit dinner of lobster and caviar while we thought of names like Chet and Muffy.
My heart fluttered. I could blame Zach’s miserable mood all I wanted.
But it wasn’t him. It was me.
I chickened out.
“I…” The words stuck. I gave up. “I talked with my attorney and investment partners. I can get the trust released to me early if you agree to change the terms.”
“You had to ask me that?”
“You’re named in the will, so…yep.”
“Whatever you need, you got it.”
Zach rubbed his temple and turned toward the stairs. That was it? No jokes? No smiles?
My stomach flipped again, but it wasn’t the baby. I didn’t want him to go. I sucked in a breath.
“I think it’s a good idea.” I spoke just to gain his attention, trying to work up the courage to brave the real conversation. “I’ll get my program up and running. Meet with some potential groups to invest. You know, to spend some of this money.”
He frowned. “Most people would kill for your money.”
“That’s why it doesn’t feel right taking it.”
“Why?” His voice sharpened. I didn’t appreciate the tone, and it didn’t help me build up the courage to consider mentioning the baby.
“I just stumbled into this fortune. My father was a complete stranger to me.” I stuttered over the word father. Zach didn’t notice. “I wasn’t a daughter to him, I was an afterthought. He chose a life apart from me.”
“And you think that’s actually how it went down?”
I bristled. “I was there.”
“You didn’t give him enough credit.”
“What the hell would you know about it?” The last thing I wanted was to protect the jackass who walked out on me and Momma. It still hurt my heart to remember, and it destroyed me to imagine it happening again.
“Forget it.”
Hell no. Not with that attitude. I hardened my words.
“My father didn’t want me,” I said. “He didn’t love me. So excuse me if this feels weird. For all I know, he never meant for me to have the money at all. Maybe I was an afterthought, or some place to stick his fortune so it wouldn’t turn over to the state.”
“Oh Christ.”
I didn’t let him finish. “So yes. I feel like I’m taking a stranger’s money only because he couldn’t haul it with him to the afterlife. It doesn’t sit well on my conscience…unlike other people I know.”
Zach’s jaw tightened. “Here we go. Having the same goddamned fight every fucking week.”
“You asked!”
He nodded. “And it was stupid. I already knew you’d use it as a wedge between us.”
“I’m not wedging!”
“You’ve used any excuse you could to pull away from me.”
I swallowed. I so wasn’t ready to talk about it. “Look, I can’t…I need some time. I can’t talk about us now.”
“Why not?” He stood in front of me. “Let’s just do it. Get it all out in the open.”
Did he want me to throw up on his shoes? Cause I’d do it. Nothing about his anger set right with me. I wasn’t ready to confront any of this yet. Not the money, not his leaving, not a pregnancy.
“Zach, please.”
“What are you so afraid of?”
Everything. “Don’t ask me that.”
“How can I fix it if I don’t know what it is?”
Why did he start now? I stared at him, holding a hard gaze I didn’t recognize. God, he was handsome. Strong. He had a smile that’d charm my pants off and a mischievous side that’d steal my panties. But it wasn’t enough. It’d never be enough. Not when I knew what would happen the instant I let myself feel everything for him.