And as he disappeared in the distance, heading back toward the barn, I disappeared somewhere else.
Into the horizon.
With tears in my eyes and Garrett on my mind.
16
PARKER
Driving an hour to an appointment to check on the baby wasn’t ideal, but I hadn’t wanted to run into anyone at the clinic in Bell Buckle and have to explain everything. People in small towns were nosy, even if they didn’t try to be. And with my social media presence, plus having grown up in this town, it was inevitable they’d have all sorts of questions.
Beckham may not have kept up with my profiles, but with eight hundred thousand followers—a majority likely being from the west—someone in Bell Buckle was bound to know what I did for a living.
It was nearly dark now, a light drizzle having started on my way home. Even after all these years, I still knew these roads like the back of my hand. I navigated them with ease until I pulled onto Beckham’s property and killed the engine. I hurried inside, raising my arms over my head to protect myself from the rain as best I could.
Twisting the handle, I was thankful the front doorwas unlocked as I slipped in and shut it behind me. With my back to the door, I found Beckham sitting on the couch, stiff as a board.
“Hey,” I breathed, shoving my slightly damp hair off my forehead. The strands would definitely frizz.
“Hey.” Beckham stood, hands on his hips and lips rolling together like he was working up the courage to ask something. He sent a brief look to the ceiling like it’d give him strength, then met my gaze. “Where’d you go?”
A breath rushed from my lungs, thankful that was all. I shoved off the door, moving to the sink in the kitchen to wash my hands. “I had a doctor’s appointment.”
After scrubbing and drying them, I turned to find him staring.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, sounding hurt.
“I didn’t know if you’d care,” I responded hesitantly.
His eyes nearly bulged from their sockets before he ran a hand over his mustache and down his jaw. He spun, then paced a little before freezing again. “What would ever make you think I didn’t care about your appointments?”
Truthfully, I felt like a burden walking back into his life, pregnant with another man’s baby. “Looping you into the appointments felt like too much.”
He chuckled. A dry, humorless sound. “‘Too much’?”
I opened my mouth. Snapped it shut.
“You drove yourself?” he questioned.
I nodded. “Who else would have driven me?”
He blinked rapidly, dragging another rough handdown his chin. Before I could see if those were tears building, he took off down the hall.
His bedroom door shut quietly, and a muffledthudfollowed. I couldn’t tell if he wanted space, but I also didn’t want to leave him alone with whatever feelings my appointment had stirred up. Was he that upset I hadn’t invited him?
I kicked my shoes off and padded down the hall, stopping at his bedroom. My fingers wrapped around the knob, stilling for a moment before I slowly turned it and cracked open the door.
Beckham’s back was to me, his hands gripping his hair punishingly. On his bed sat his baseball hat, squished and forgotten.
“Beckham?” I whispered.
His head shook back and forth. “I’m sorry, Park.” His swallow was audible, his back muscles flexing through his shirt as he dropped his hands to his sides. “It’s not you, it’s just?—”
I opened the door the rest of the way and walked until my belly pressed against his back. My arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him to me. He froze as I rested my cheek against him.
“Don’t be sorry.” Apologetic was the last thing I wanted him to feel when it came to me.Ishould be the one apologizing.
“You shouldn’t be in here right now,” he whispered.
