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Before I can stop myself, I lean in and kiss her forehead. “All night.”
“Here you go. Pedialyte and breakfast tacos.”
I start in surprise, tearing my gaze off the truck window’s view of bright eight a.m. sunlight. Snow drifts across the freeway. I zoned out when Davis stopped at a gas station to refuel his behemoth of a pickup truck. We left my Jeep on the side of the road. Strangely, I’m not as sentimental as I thought about leaving things behind. It must be my new MO.
“It’s no croissant, but…”
“No, it’s perfect,” I say eagerly, watching as he sets the bag of food and the drink on the console between us. I may be a food snob, but even I know gas station tacos are a win.
He pins me with a look. “You need to eat.”
I do. I’ve been ravenous since I found out I was pregnant. No morning sickness for me, just constant parasitic hunger. My mouth waters as I nestle the fragrant bundle of deliciousness on my lap. I open the silver wrapping paper and tear into a soft-shell taco. A small moan leaves my mouth.
“Better?” he asks, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
“Yes. Thank you.”
I barely get a grunt of acknowledgement before he’s peeling out of the gas station.
As I eat, I stare at the bear of a man squeezed into the driver’s side seat. My knight in shining armor is a six-foot-three scowlingMarine. Around his neck, his dog tag glints in the sun. A match to mine. My heart launches itself into its typical somersault fashion, as it does whenever I’m around him. It’s infuriating that he’s still so damn handsome. Even more so than he was six years ago.
Davis Montgomery is as rugged as the leather jacket he wears. Sculpted muscle. Broad shoulders. Tan as buckskin. Close-cropped brown hair. The light scruff on his face frames a strong jaw. Stern brown eyes with crinkles at the corner that exude an intense, ferocious energy. And that soft, southern drawl. Whiskey, honey, and a late-night lullaby all rolled into one handsome country boy.
He doesn’t look as haunted as he did when I first met him. Still, the dark circles under his eyes tell me he’s running on adrenaline.
Sleep didn’t come easy for either of us. I tossed restlessly and woke to see Davis standing at the curtain, gun in his hands, staring into cold blue moonlight.
I remember when we shared a bed, he shared his nightmares. Tortured, tangled in the sheet beside me. I’d draw him into my arms and keep him there until morning.
“You didn’t sleep last night.”
With his eyes fixed on the road, he inclines his head as if my voice is an unfamiliar sound. “I never sleep.”
I swallow the last of the taco and ball up the paper. “Do you still have the nightmares?”
A muscle works in his jaw. “They’re not so bad.”
“And yet…you don’t sleep. Why?”
“Dakota.” His voice is soft, but the way his jaw jumps has my chest tightening.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have…” I trail off, unsure how to end the sentence. Shouldn’t have tried to pick back up? Shouldn’t have gotten this intimate?
Shouldn’t have thought that whatever we once had is still between us?
For all I know, Davis is married.For all I know, he’s forgotten all about me.
He scrapes a hand over his crew cut. “No, it’s okay.” His voice is rough and warm and so damn comforting. I’m horrified when my eyes fill with tears, so before he can see, I turn my face to the window.
I wish we could say more. Wish I could weep in his arms and tell him the absolute nightmare of my life over the last two years. Wish I could tell him what I’ve been up to pre-Aiden. That I found my mother. That I tried and failed to open my own bakery.
Instead, it’s about my face, this baby, and what Aiden did to me.
“How’d it happen?” Davis’s grim, demanding voice has me turning his way. There’s a storm in his dark brown eyes as his gaze lands on my cast, tucked up into the sleeve of my oversized sweater.
Tensing, I shake my head. Pain floods my memory and darkens my vision.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Davis,” I tell him quietly. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. It’ll heal.”
