The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(70)

Hannah. Wife. Pregnant.

The corner of my mouth kicked up. A primal part of my brain liked those words together.

“No.” I shook my head at the nurse. “She isn’t.”

She raised her eyebrows as if she didn’t believe me. “You husbands drag your wives in for any little paper cut or tummy ache when there’s a baby involved.” She handed me a clipboard with a pen and pointed at the waiting area. “Take a seat and fill out these forms. Dr. Kingston should be here soon.” She tossed me a towel from beneath the counter. I didn’t want to know why she had a stash there. “And don’t get any more water in my emergency room.”

I nodded and sat quietly, reading the form while my mind raced. Hannah. Concussion. Hannah. Hurt. Husband. Hannah. Wife. Hannah. Pregnant.

I rubbed my hand over my face. Shut up, I told myself. Pregnant? Pregnant. That was the last thing I wanted. That was the complete opposite of temporary. Pregnant meant baby, and baby meant family and forever.

With Hannah.

I smiled. Husband.

No. Shut up, I told myself. No smiling at that. Look at what happened to my aunts. Aunt Bea was still broken after what happened. Hannah’s father is a shell of a human, stuck in his ways after fifteen years, because he misses Hannah’s mom so much. I was teaching her to be fearless so some guy could sweep her off her feet. I wasn’t going to keep her for myself.

Professor.

The nickname rolled through my head and sparked down my spine. I raked a hand through my hair and focused on the forms.

Some of the information I knew, like her birthday, her address, and her phone number. Some of it I didn’t know, like her personal health number. I left that one blank. Some I filled in for myself, like her emergency contact. Her dad was away, Avery was busy with… stuff. So I put myself.

Wife. Pregnant. Fuck.

We hadn’t even had sex.

A sweet, pliant Hannah appeared in my head, under me in my bed. Naked and open for me. Me thrusting into her, her eyes falling closed as she flexed around me and I spilled into her. No condom. The warmth of sinking into her.

“Wyatt?”

My head snapped up. Beck stood in front of me. Hannah was at the front desk, talking with the receptionist. White gauze covered her hand and there was a bandage on her forehead.

Beck nodded for me to follow him. I didn’t want to leave her but my worry overpowered my need to pick her up and tuck her under my arm, where she could be safe. Once we were in an exam room, I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Is she okay? What’s going on?”

He nodded. “She’s fine. I didn’t see any sign of concussion. I cleaned her wounds, gave her a few stitches, and wrapped her hand up.”

“You know she hit her head, right?”

He snorted. “Yep, you mentioned that about six times.”

“This isn’t funny!” I yelled, surprising both Beck and myself. “Sorry. Fuck.” I rubbed my face and took a deep breath.

Beck reached out to put a hand on my shoulder but changed his mind. “It’s okay, man. I understand. But if I thought she had a concussion, even the slightest one, I’d tell you. She’s okay.” He leaned against the counter. “I gave her a few Advil for the swelling and pain and I told her to take more tonight. She’s going to have a bump on her forehead for a few days.”

I nodded. Advil. Swelling.

“She can put ice on it if it’s comfortable.”

I nodded again, swallowing. My jaw was so tight it hurt.

Beck winced.

“What?” I asked.

He shook his head and laughed a little. “I didn’t know.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Didn’t know what?”

He gave me a rueful smile. “That you two were a thing.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I wouldn’t have…” He narrowed his eyes, thinking. “But also, she asked me out. Right in front of you.” He gave me a funny look.

I never should have told her to ask a bunch of guys out. What a stupid, stupid idea. She could have practiced asking me out, again and again.

Yeah. We could still practice that.

When I didn’t elaborate, he shrugged. “Anyway. Sorry about that.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “She’s fine, okay? Lots of rest and keep her off the gnarly waves for a couple days.”

Try forever. She was never getting back on that board. She could surf the baby waves within ten feet of shore.

“Thanks for seeing her so quickly.” I cleared my throat, meeting his eyes. A hint of embarrassment hit me in the gut. “I know I’m being an asshole.”

He grinned. “It’s okay. You’re taking care of your girl. I get it.” There was something funny in his expression. Longing. Envy. “And I will keep looking.”

Empathy flickered in my chest for the guy. He was my friend, and a good guy. Except the whole hitting-on-Hannah thing.

Hannah was mine. He could find someone else, and I hoped he would.

He led me back to Hannah and I gathered her up in a big hug, right there in the waiting room. I tucked her into my chest the way I had been wanting to for the last half hour and breathed in her damp hair, pressing my mouth to her temple. She relaxed into me and my chest eased a couple notches.

Her hands stroked my back.

“Ready to go?” I said into her hair.