Heartless: A Small Town Single Dad Romance(91)

Winter stayed for a while. She wasn’t overly comforting, but it was nice to have someone with me all the same. She was quiet and withdrawn as soon as the test came back positive.

It was awkward.

“You okay?” Cade asks, jolting me from my thoughts.

“Me? Yeah? Fine. Why?” I turn slightly to peek at his furrowed brow and beautifully crafted face.

I’m not even mad, I’m not even sad. I’m oddly at peace with the whole thing.

But I am worried about him.

“Because you’re gripping the steering wheel like you’re trying to strangle it.”

“Ah,” I say with a nod.

“Did Winter say something to you? Do we like her? Do we hate her? Am I supposed to be mad at something with you? Because I will be if you are. Just tell me how to be supportive.”

Fuck, he’s sweet. His voice is all rough edges and deep grumbles, but I know he means what he says.

I just worry that after being trapped by one pregnancy, he’ll feel the same all over again. He’ll feel confined. He’ll be stuck providing for a woman and a baby that he never really got to be sure he wanted.

Again.

“No,” I reply softly, “Winter was great. I’m hoping her and Summer can mend this thing between

them. I think they both need it.”

“I’m going to be fine, you know.” He reaches across the center console for my hand, twining his fingers with mine, forcing a soft sigh from my lips. I always feel better with his hands on my body.

More grounded. More myself. More confident.

I’m more myself with Cade Eaton than I’ve ever been, and now I’ll have to wonder if he feels the same, or if he’s going through the motions out of a sense of duty. Again. Our relationship is in its infancy, and as much as I realize I do want a family—with Cade even—I can’t say that I saw it playing out quite like this.

“I know,” I say, but I don’t know if I believe it. And I don’t know if things will ever be the same between us once I say this out loud to him. How could he possibly be fine with this happening to him again?

I know I need to tell him. I can feel the words building in my throat the closer we get to the ranch.

The more he strokes my hand, the more flustered I get, and the guiltier I feel for sitting here wordlessly for the past fifteen minutes.

We drive in silence, but I sense he knows something is up because I’m not my normal, chatty self.

I can see him tossing nervous glances my way, like he’s totally out of his depth.

But so am I.

When we pull up at the house, I put the truck in park but stay staring out the front windshield.

“Look, Red, I’m trying not to be a domineering asshole, but I want to know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. I can see the gears turning. I can tell by the way you’re sitting. By the tension in your hand. Usually I can’t get you to shut up unless I stuff your panties in your mouth. So this?” He gestures between us. “This is weird.”

A raw laugh lurches out of me, and tears spring up in my eyes. I pull my hand from his to rub at my face, to bring some circulation back to my head, because I feel like I’m living in some alternate dream world. Like this can’t really be happening to me.

It feels like the best way to do this is to rip off the Band-aid. Fast, painless—get it over with because I can’t handle these levels of anxiety in my body.

“I’m pregnant.”

Those two words come out sure and steady. So much surer and steadier than I feel right now.

Cade stares at me blankly. His mouth pops open and closes again, and then he shakes his head, like it might make reality seep back in.

“Surprise?” I add awkwardly. “I’m sorry,” I add even more awkwardly.

My head is spinning, and I’m feeling like I could use a moment alone to get my bearings—to process this—because saying it out loud to him feels so much more real. “I just found out at the hospital and have been trying to find the courage to tell you. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I didn’t do this on purpose.” He blinks at me. “I swear I’m on birth control, but apparently barfing it up for two days straight isn’t ideal.”

His hand slides over his stubbled chin as he sucks in a breath. Oh god, he’s not saying anything, and my anxiety is growing exponentially, doubling.

Like cells.

Fuck. What is wrong with my head?

“You’re just so young.” Not the words I wanted to hear right now.

“Good God. You act like I’m a clueless teenager! I’m twenty-five! Stop treating me like I’m a child. That excuse is insulting.” I huff out an agitated breath. “I think I need a night alone to just

process this.”

He scowls at me and still says nothing, so I just keep talking. “Yeah. Yeah. That’s what I need.

And you do too.”

I’m starting to spin out. I stare down and rifle through my oversized purse to find his painkillers, feeling a full-on freak-out like I’ve never had coming on. My hand wraps around something long and slender and I pull out . . . a carrot?

My eyes water and panic rises, and I just toss it in the back seat.

“Was that a carrot?” is the first thing Cade says to me since I told him I was pregnant with his baby.