Heartless: A Small Town Single Dad Romance(93)

I throw an arm over my eyes. “Never talk to me again. That you even know that term is altogether too much information.”

“Why are you sitting out here with me?”

“Because I stared at her blankly and said nothing when she told me. I kept running through all the things I wanted to say to her and then just clammed up. I don’t want her to feel trapped by me, or by this.” I swivel a finger around, gesturing to the ranch.

“Did you ask her if she feels that way?”

“No. I just asked over and over again why she had a carrot in her purse like a total dolt.”

“Listen, I don’t want to hear about whatever weird shit you kids are into.”

“Holy shit. Please just kill me before you say something else that makes me want to clean my ears with acid.”

My dad carries on, undeterred, but I can hear the humor in his voice. He’s having fun watching me squirm. “You two need to talk. I know Talia fucked you up, but don’t let her fuck this up for you too. If you want that girl and that baby, you need to tell her. If you don’t, then you need to work some—”

Rage flashes through my body, hot and sharp at the mention of me not wanting her. “I do,” I bite out harshly. “I want that. I want it all.”

“Then stop Eeyoring around out here with me, you grumpy dumbass. I’m going to bed. Y’all kids exhaust me.”

His glass clanks against the table, and he retreats to bed without another word. And me? I take my



drink and pad quietly through the house. To Willa’s door.

I drop myself onto the floor and lean against the wall. I plan to wait until she’s had the night to herself so I can toss her over my shoulder and carry her back to our house.

She might need time to think about things.

But I sure as shit don’t.

I wake up when I fall and hit the floor at Willa’s feet.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Pushing up on my hands back to sitting, I shake my head to clear the cobwebs and the light ache that too much bourbon has left behind. Scrubbing my palms over my eyes, I stare up into the face of the woman I know I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.

I flop back against the doorframe and stare at her for a minute. Really take her in.

She’s fucking perfect.

“Are you drunk?” Her eyes land on the empty glass beside me. “Why are you staring at me?” Her arms cross over her body, and she pops a hip out.

“I’m not drunk.” Anymore.

“Did you sleep out here?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t like the idea of you being alone.”

“Ugh.” Her eyes shut and her head tips back. “That’s really romantic.”

“I didn’t need time to gather my thoughts at all.”

Her head snaps down now. “Yeah? Is that why you sat there all wide-eyed, asking about my carrot?”

I laugh because I can’t help it. “I do want to know about the carrot. But I was wide-eyed because I was trying to gauge you and see how I should react. I’m sorry I stayed silent. There are a lot of things I should have said.”

She sighs heavily and then slides down the opposite side of the doorframe to face me. “You accidentally knocked a woman up once who upended your whole life by pretending she was on birth control, so I can see how the nanny who told you she’s on birth control getting pregnant might freak you out.”

My brows furrow. “Willa—”

“I swear I didn’t lie. I swear I’m taking my pills. Winter said that when I was sick, they probably didn’t stay down and that might have fucked it all up, and I didn’t even think about it, and even though I’ve thought about having like a million babies with you one day, I just absolutely did not do this on purpose, even though I’m actually not that sad about it, which sounds awful, because like, I don’t want to trap you with me, so like—”

“Willa!”

Her eyes widen dramatically as she leans back a little. I reach forward and plunk her bare feet into my lap with my good hand. “You’re going to collapse a lung talking in run-on sentences like that, baby. And there’s no one I’d rather be trapped with.” She blinks at me, and I rub my thumbs along the arches of her feet and up her ankles.

“I haven’t shaved my legs.”

I chuckle. “I don’t care. Don’t you get it? I’m in love with you, Willa. Prickly legs, random carrots in your purse, pregnant, not pregnant. I want you.”

Tears spring up in her eyes, and her voice is raspy when she says, “But this has happened to you before, and I don’t want to be lumped in with that shit. I don’t want you being with me out of some sort of obligation. We haven’t even told people about us. We haven’t figured a single thing out.

You’ve never told me that you love me. But now I’m pregnant and that’s all going to happen? It just feels . . . forced.”

“Willa.” I can hear an edge of panic to the tone I’m using. “Nothing is forced. We were on this track already. We’re not two people who were unhappy and now are trying to make something work that wasn’t working before. We were happy.”

“Yeah. We were. But this is your personality. This is you swooping in to be responsible before you’ve even processed what this means because your first instinct is to take care of everyone before you take care of yourself.”