“Tell me you know I’m here? No matter what? I promise not to let you down.” A darkness sweeps over him, a somber wave washing away any remaining humor. He’s serious; so much so, I’m not sure how to respond other than repeating his words back to him.
“We’re a team.” I squeeze his forearm twice.
“That’s right, sweetheart.” He brushes his lips over my hairline, not quite a kiss but leaving me in a puddle of confused, needy hormones. Oblivious to my reaction, he reaches past me and grabs the box of cereal. “Let’s get you fed.”
He backs away casually, grabbing two bowls and the carton of milk.
I’m fortunate the father of my baby is so eagerly involved. Or I was. Because how on god’s green Earth am I supposed to keep things platonic when he behaves like this?
This is going to be harder than I thought.
TWENTY-THREE
WARREN
God.Damn. Fucking. Flowers.
Which type, I don’t know, but I’ve spent way too much time trying to work out the scent of Harriet’s perfume. Maybe it’s all her.
Not daisies.
Definitely not lilies.
Peonies, perhaps? Or roses?
I was teasing myself when I pressed my lips to her forehead. The last time I was that close to her was in my dreams, only there, my mouth doesn’t meet her forehead. They find her lips, eager and delicious. Little moans and whimpers. A floral scent, tantalizingly feminine and seductive. Sweet apple and mint on her tongue.
I throw my bag onto the bed and inhale slowly, willing the real and imaginary versions of her away.
Overall, the night went brilliantly. Everyone adores Harriet. How could they not? She complimented my mom on her cooking while joking about how terrible she is herself. She listened to my dad drawl on about the biggest catch of theseason without looking bored once. She even sat on the rug with Freddie, both of their heads lowered as they colored together.
To put it simply, the night was perfect—shewas perfect. Then, she had to ask questions I didn’t want to answer. Completely reasonable questions. It wasn’t the first time, either. The other week, she asked if I’d be working any late shifts over the holidays.
No would be the most straightforward response, but it could lead to why, and Harriet doesn’t know about my suspension or the terms surrounding it. Shame, disgrace, whatever you want to call it; telling her the truth is a bitter pill I’m not ready to swallow.
Glancing around my old bedroom, a wave of nostalgia hits me. My parents have had an empty nest for years, yet they still refuse to redecorate our rooms. Nashville Knights memorabilia lines all four walls and the freshly made bed. I was football crazy growing up, even got a full scholarship playing at the University of Tennessee. It was never the dream to go pro.
Saving lives was.
I stretch out my spine, ready to call it a day. Harriet’s room is next door, and at the sound of light footsteps outside, now might be my only chance to catch her alone.
Instead, the irritating face of my brother greets me.
“Whoa.” He raises his hands to stop me barreling into him. “What’s the rush?”
I shove him away.
“Sooo…” he drawls. “Harriet’s a lovely girl. Mom’s really taken to her. And Dad.”
“Yeah, yeah, she’s great.” His tone is far from tactical, and I see right through his act. “What’s your point?”
He shrugscasually. “Nothing.”
“Good. Keep it that way.” I take two steps past him before his next words stop me.
“Only you seem really taken by her too.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “She’s…a friend. The mother of my unborn child. We’re trying to build a good foundation as co-parents before the baby arrives. That’s all there is.” I lower my voice. “Donotstart looking into this too closely.”
