Page 95 of Everything But Mine

She smiles thinly. “I have no control over that.” The words come out above a whisper, cracking at the end. “But I have more control over who takes the baby home if I’m… unwell.”

“I’m taking the baby home, Amanda, and you’re going to be okay.”

Her smile deepens, but it’s wobbly. “I want Daray to sign away his rights. And then he’ll be legally yours.”

“We don’t say shit to Daray. And I sign the birth certificate.”

She shakes her head. “That’s fraud.”

“Well…” Sweat gathers on my palms, melting gelato sticking to my fingers. I put the cup down and meet her eyes. “Marry me, then.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “What, Er⁠—”

“Listen to me.” I wrap my fingers around the wrist holding my cheek. She’s so much smaller than my middle finger goes over my thumb. “Husbands go on birth certificates, right? No questions asked?”

She casts her gaze downward and bites her lip. “That’s skipping like a thousand fucking steps between you and me…”

I huff. “We’re already having a baby.”

She looks into my eyes, hers glistening, and taps her hand against my jaw. “It’s not our time for that.”

Without looking away, I wait for the shame and self-doubt to creep in, but Amanda didn’t say no; she said the time isn’t right. And I agree.

She pulls the corner of her mouth up, giving me a shy smile, when I mumble that I understand. I lean my forehead on hers, and she brushes against me. After a second, she fixes her eyes on mine again.

“Daray’s enough of a dick, and he’d figure out how to get you in trouble for it.” She squares her shoulders. “It all needs to be legal and above reproach, so he has no way to take him from you.”

I nod.

“So, I’ll talk to Daray, and…”

“And we’ll do what we need to so I’m on that certificate.”

Her pinkie finger hooks around the neck of my shirt. “But are you okay with this?” She swallows. “Even if I⁠—”

No, I wouldn’t be fucking okay if she’s… But⁠—

“He’s been my kid since we agreed he’d be, Amanda. Nothing’ll change that.”

My entire life I’ve been someone people walk away from. Somehow, I’ve become the person she knows won’t walk away. She trusts me to raise her child. The intensity of her stare lays a heavy weight on me, laying herself bare and telling me where she stands.

“You won’t get hurt,” I add, voice low.

I squeeze lightly right where her neck meets her shoulder.

“I don’t plan to.” She leans her head down, cheek brushing against my palm. “But Eric, if anything⁠—”

“Yes.” I cup the back of her nape now. “Anything. I’m in.”

She leans her forehead onto mine, and the air wooshes out of my lungs, fanning her lips. Her pulse quickens at the base of her neck, as if she’s bracing for rejection. But we’re finally on the same wavelength at the same time, as I let the knowledge settle that neither of us needs perfection. We just need each other.

“He’s mine. Not just until Daray changes his mind. You get that, right?”

Amanda swallows. “That’s the point.” She tightens my grip on her neck with her own hand. “He is yours.”

My rib cage swells with how much I want this. Her. Him. Us.

“I’m not your contingency plan or his.” I flick my eyes down to her belly. “I want to be the person you can’t wait to wake up to. The one who makes pancakes while you sleep in. Bring him to you at night so you don’t leave the bed to nurse. I’ll teach him how to fall and get hurt without panicking. Hell, I’m learning how to do all of that with you.” Her mouth quirks slightly. I exhale. “No matter what, Amanda, he’s got me. I just want a shot at having you too.”