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But fuck, I’m on edge and taking it out on a telephone pole isn’t even fucking helping. The last thing I need to be doing is taking it out on my crew, too.

A few moments later, Jake hangs on the open door of the truck, smirking at me. “Have you cooled off yet?” I glare at him. “I’ll take that as a no.” Sighing, he continues, “Dude, what the hell has gotten into you?”

What the hell has gotten into me?

More like who.

Lennon Riley has infiltrated every nook and cranny of my subconscious, and last night the stress from work and my new obligations as her husband all came to a head.

Not to mention that I told her she was sexy, which crossed a line. But even worse, I saw the way she looked at me afterward.

I could have crashed my mouth into hers and she would have let me.

But that would only make our situation more intense.

When I turned back to check on her at the dining room table and saw she had passed out, every worst-case scenario flashed through my head. Thank God she was only asleep, because I’d imagined far worse things.

My need to protect her came crashing down on me, the way it always does when I feel helpless. And I’m having the hardest time shaking it.

But seeing Lennon asleep from pure exhaustion wasn’t what started it. It was coming home to find her on the bathroom floor, yet again unable to keep food down.

There’s so much I don’t know about pregnancy and what she’s going through, so I did the only thing I could think of—I made her a grilled cheese sandwich.

My mom used to do that for me when I wasn’t feeling well. It’s comfort food at its finest, in my opinion. But then she insisted on studying instead of resting.

I just don’t know if her forcing herself to finish the nursing program before the baby is born is the right thing for her. I told her that I would be here to support her, so I have to follow through with that promise. But she’s making that difficult to do when she won’t put her health before her aspirations.

So I decided to take out my frustration on my job, but apparently that’s not going to work either.

I rip off my Tennessee Power & Utility hat and toss it onto the passenger seat before shoving a hand through my sweat-soaked hair. “I’m just fucking stressed, man.”

“Okay…about what?”

“The baby,” I reply, feeling like that covers most of it.

“Did something happen?”

“Yes. No. I mean, Lennon’s sick to her stomach and working so hard to finish the nursing program before the baby comes, but she’s running herself ragged.”

“So instead of talking to her about it, you decided to rip Cory’s head off?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I bet Cory handles his dick rougher than he was tightening that bolt.”

Jake laughs. “You’re probably right, but I rarely see you lose your cool like that.”

“I know. Fuck,” I grate out, pushing the heel of my palm into the steering wheel as I squeeze it tighter. “I guess I just feel fucking helpless.” And sexually frustrated, but I keep that part to myself.

“Look, Lennon’s a grown woman. And I’m not a relationship guru, but I think you just need to support her and take care of her in the ways she can’t or won’t for herself.”

“Like what?”

“Beats the fuck out of me,” Jake says as he shrugs. “Aren’t there books and shit about pregnancy?”

I blink at him. “Jake, you’re a fucking genius.”

He flashes me a lopsided grin. “Aw, shucks. You trying to make me blush?”

I flip him off and hop out of the truck. “I know where I’m going after work.”