As in tune with me as ever, he cocks his head and stares into my eyes like he’s trying to read my thoughts. My heart quivers, and my stomach churns.
“What is it?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s nothing wrong, exactly,” I respond. “I just thought… hoped…”
My voice trails off, the words refusing to come. Burke watches me, his gaze patient but curious. Drawing a deep breath, I hold it for a five-count, then let it out slowly. This is a lot harder than I thought it would be.
“Brynn, what’s going on?” he asks.
“I just… I thought we needed to have a talk.”
“All right,” he says, sounding slightly uneasy. “What do we need to talk about? Did I leave the toilet seat up again?”
I laugh softly. “No. I think I’ve been able to train that out of you.”
“So? What is it?”
Letting out another breath, I swallow hard and lick my suddenly dry lips. “I wanted to talk to you about your workload,” I say. “You’ve been taking on a lot of cases lately.”
“I have,” he replies. “People need help, so I want to be there to do that.”
“I know. And I think that’s a beautiful thing.”
One of his eyebrows arches upward. “But?”
“I just… I think you need to hire some help.”
“Hire help?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“And why do I need help?”
My heart is in my throat, and the words seem stuck behind it. I clear my throat then take a drink from his bottle of water, trying to steady my nerves.
“Brynn?”
“I think you need to hire some help because you’re going to want to spend more time at home,” I say. “At least, I hope you do.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you’re going to be a dad.”
I pull the test stick out of my pocket and hand it to him. Burke takes it, his eyes fixed on the little blue plus sign in the window. The air between us seems to stop. It grows thick and heavy, and Burke’s eyes widen as his mouth falls open. He stares at me as if trying to figure out if I really said what he heard. And when I give him a nod, silently telling him that I did indeed say it, his eyes widen, and his face reddens.
Laughing like a lunatic, Burke scoops me up as if I weigh nothing at all and jumps to his feet, spinning me around. He sets me down and pulls me to him, crushing me in a tight embrace. Surprised and overwhelmed by his reaction, I turn my face up to him, trying to figure out if he’s truly as happy as he seems to be. He is.
And that sets a wave of relief washing through me. My heart starts to beat again, and I smile… happy.
“You’re not going to be able to pick me up like that in a few months,” I say.
“Then I’ll buy a forklift.”
I squeal and slap his chest. “You’re a beast.”
“I am, and you love it.”
“Yes, I do,” I say. “So, you’re happy about this?”
