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“Okay,” I say softly, shifting uncomfortably again. “So, insurance, then.”

His eyes drift over me before locking on the chair, but he just shakes his head. “No one will question us about the validity of this marriage since you’re pregnant.”

“I mean, I would because of that, but sure,” I mutter, finally giving up. I’ll just deal with the damn bruises then.

“Then we’ll say we’ve been long distance since we met.” He returns to typing on the computer, and I catch the search being ‘when does the courthouse open?’ before he shifts the screen. “You’re in an area where they’re going to applaud us getting married before the baby comes, not shun us. And while I don’t trust insurance companies, I have savings, just in case.”

I hate suggesting it, but the thought of marrying this man only for it to be a lie sinks something deep within me. “Maybe we shouldn’t take the risk of, you know, fraud, and rely on those savings. I’ll pay you back.”

He cuts me a look that says I’m crazy. “I would never ask you to do that.”

I huff, throwing my hands in the air. “You aren’t asking, I’m offering. The work I do is on-again off-again, but it’s allowed me to travel without worry, so I know once I settle in somewhere, I’ll be able to pay you back⁠—”

“Honey, I don’t want you paying me back anything regarding this baby. I’m not a monster. You’re doing all the work, the least I can do is pay the fucking hospital bills,” he grumbles without looking at me, clicking through a few things before shutting off the monitor. “We can head out Monday to get the license.”

My brows raise. “Huh? So soon?”

“We’ve probably left it too late for insurance to kick in,” he says, rising, “but I’m going to ask forgiveness later. I need you on it as soon as possible just in case anything happens.”

I blow out a slow breath and watch as he walks around the desk. “Is that…is that it?” I ask, uncertainty bleeding into my words.

Honestly, I’m really not sure what I expected to come out of this whole thing, but it definitely wasn’t marrying the man. I feel like I should be more afraid of him. He’s bossy, but taking charge is exactly what I need when I’ve been doing it alone for so long. He’s a bit brutish, but I have to admit, I like the fact he doesn’t mince his words. I still don’t know if I believe him about the whole being fine with me being the mother of his unborn child thing, but I suppose I’ll figure out pretty quickly whether that’s a lie or not.

And well, I probably should be terrified by the fact he’s being so insistent about the whole marry now, insurance now thing. That should be a red flag.

But when Max holds out his hand, offering me help to get out of the awful chair, my heart skips and the red flag hanging over his head poofs out of existence.

“Where are you staying?” he asks, voice low.

I swallow hard, mouth suddenly dry. “Uh, I was going to try my luck at the motel outside of town.”

He quirks an unimpressed brow. “No plan?”

“Well, to be fair, I actually thought this might be yet another dead end and I was going to leave town right after confirming you weren’t the right Max Gilbert,” I reply, taking his warm, calloused hand and heaving myself out of the chair. He tugs me up with a strength that takes me by surprise, which all but catapults me into his hard chest.

He saves me by wrapping an arm around my waist and holding me tight to him. Warmth flares where he holds me—scratch that, all over my body.

I want to blame being pregnant with his kid on the emotions and heat and every little strange feeling I shouldn’t have. It’s confusing, but I also can’t deny that Max doesn’t have some hold on my heart, and that hasn’t stopped being the case since we met.

Max eventually clears his throat, but he doesn’t immediately release me. “You’ll stay with me,” he says, face inches from mine. His brow is set in determination, his expression and tone goading me into fighting him.

“Here?” I ask, a little too breathy for my liking.

Damn, girl, get it together!

“No, not here,” he replies, voice low. “But you aren’t going anywhere until we have this sorted out.”

A shiver rolls through me, my body giving away how much I like him taking charge.

I’m used to bossy men. I’m definitely used to bossy ones who also have a brooding nature.

I just shouldn’t be as attracted to it as I am.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I murmur, giving him a tight lipped smile. “The motel will be fine.”

His face inches closer, and I all but hold my breath. “You’re staying with me, and that’s final,” he breathes, eyes flickering over my face before dropping to my lips. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, Honey.”

God, I hate and love the way he calls me that. “Or what?”