“Shrimp? Don’t you mean spoon?”
I shook my head. “No, I mean shrimp. All curled up on our sides. It makes me feel like a shrimp.”
“Cute little shrimp.” He grinned. “Climb into bed. I’ll put the food away.”
I watched him from the bed as he moved around the kitchen, my eyes tracking him.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he got into bed and pulled me into his arms.
“I’m thinking how much nothing has changed despite me knowing about your past.”
“Explain.”
“Well, I forget. Just like I forget that you were in prison. Because you’re not some hardened ex-con . . . at least not to me. You’re not some scary ex-biker. But I know you could be if you needed to be.”
He grasped my hip. “Not with you.”
“No. Not with me,” I agreed.
“But there might be a day when you will see that side of me. I hope you never do, but if it happens, it might scare you . . .”
“Maybe,” I agreed. “Or maybe I’ll feel cherished and protected. I’ll feel special.”
“Youarespecial.”
I wiggled back against him and sighed.
“And I’ll do anything in the world to always make you feel that way,” he whispered as he brushed a kiss to my temple.
Several hours later, I fell asleep in his arms.
Safe.
Sheltered.
Happy.
“Oh, and I’m pregnant,” I finished.
The other end of the line was silent.
“Wyn? Wyn are you still there?”
“Still here,” she croaked. “Is it wrong that I don’t know what to be in shock over first? The mountain lion? Falling into an abandoned mine, or the baby?”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “It’s been a crazy twenty-four hours.”
I wished I could tell her about Brooks’ past. Just so I had someone to share it with, but it wasn’t my past to divulge. And it would be a really bad idea for legal reasons.
“Fuck, Poet,” she grumbled. “I leave and you get yourself into trouble. You need to be on a leash. It’s for your own benefit. I doubt Brooks will let you out of his sight from now on.”
“Probably not,” I agreed.
“So, the pregnant thing . . .”
“Muddy told me I was and then the hospital confirmed it.”
She was silent.
