CHAPTER EIGHT
COLLINS
“I don’t know about you,” Roman says, pulling the rig in, “but it feels like tonight went by at a snail’s pace.” He turns it off and looks over at me. “I’m off the next two nights, and I can’t wait.”
“Lucky,” I mumble to him, grabbing my phone out of the cupholder and opening the door. “I picked up two more shifts this week. Janice’s kid has some baseball tournament, and she wants to take him. But in two weeks I’m off for four days.”
“You’re crazy,” he tells me. “You’ve already picked up five extra shifts this month.”
I don’t tell him I know this, and I’m doing it so I can afford to buy my kid a crib and some clothes. A baby was not in my budget plans at all. I could barely get the extra money together to buy a secondhand washer and dryer.
I get off the rig and head toward the stairs, going straight for the locker room. I grab the clothes I wore today from my locker and head for the bathroom to change. It takes me a full five minutes to change, and when I step out, Roman is already done. The next shifts are all lined up in the changing area, chatting. I put my uniform in my bag before slamming my locker closed. “Have a good night,” I mumble to them and get a couple of goodbyes as I head outside.
The warm breeze makes my shorts fly around my legs, and I’m almost to my car when the door opens and Hudson calls my name. I look over my shoulder at him. He’s walking to me with a white box from the bakery in his hand. “I was hoping I would see you before you left.”
“Sorry,” I say. “What’s up?”
“Brock Casey came by when you were out,” he replies. “Left this for you. I was under strict orders from Scooter to make sure you got it.”
I shake my head as my pulse starts to race. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Brock Casey,” he repeats, “came by and said you forgot this when you went over before shift.” He extends the box to me. My hands reflexively come up to take it.
“Thank you,” I say, and he chuckles.
“I had to guard that with my life.” He shakes his head. “I can’t tell you how many times I had to answer whose box was in the fridge during my shift. Even though she sent a box for us as well.”
I laugh, knowing the boys must have been salivating for what was in this box. “I owe you, I guess.”
“Never.” He puts his hands in his pants pockets. “I’ll see you later. I heard you’re taking Janice’s shift.”
“Yeah, she has a family thing.” Guilt rips through me. Eventually, I’m going to have to tell him I’m pregnant. He’s the second-in-command, and from what we’ve been hearing, Scooter is set to retire, and Hudson is in line to take his job. But that is a problem for another day.
“I heard.” I know he’s waiting to say something else, but then he just nods at me, turning and heading back inside.
“Great,” I mutter as I get in my car and put the white box on the seat beside me. “He probably heard I was having coffee with your father,” I tell the baby, starting the car and opening the windows. “I can just imagine the gossip that was burning up the phone lines tonight. Imagine the stories that are going to come out when they find out about you.” I put my hand to my stomach as I drive home. “I’m going to bet you a hundred dollars people are going to think I did it on purpose to trap him.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “But we both know the truth, and it’ll be our truth no matter what.” I pull up to my house and get out, grabbing my bag and the box.
The heat of the day lingers in the whole house. It’s so thick that I have no choice but to open some windows. The breeze is almost nonexistent. My body aches with exhaustion as I head to the shower, pulling the elastic out of my hair before stepping into the cool water.
I linger in the shower a little bit longer than I should, and when I get out, I’m starving. I put on a pair of shorts and a tank top before heading into the kitchen. Pulling open the fridge, I find a couple of plates of leftovers from two days ago. I put the one that has chicken and rice in the microwave before opening the white box.
I gasp when I find so many sweet treats that it’s not even funny. It has double, if not triple, what was on the table. I take a bite of one of the lemon squares, and the tartness hits the corner of my jaw at the same time someone knocks at the door. My head whips around. At the same time, my body decides that lemon is not what it needs or wants. I don’t even have a chance to make it to the bathroom. Instead, I hurl over the garbage bin. Up comes the lemon tart, followed by the protein bar I ate between calls tonight.
The knocking grows louder. I look over to see the door opening, and then he steps in.
“Theo?” I ask. Maybe I’m delirious from throwing up.
He makes the five steps to my side. “Oh my god, are you sick?”
“No. What would make you say that? Would it be me barfing in the garbage, or would it be me barfing in the garbage?” He glares at me. “Who just lets themselves into someone’s house without being invited in?” I walk over to the sink and turn on the water to rinse my mouth.
“I thought I heard ‘Come in,’” he answers.
“That was me heaving.” The microwave beeps, telling me the food is ready, and I hold up my hand. “I need to brush my teeth.” I turn to walk to the bathroom. “Don’t follow me.”
“I wasn’t going to.” I give him a once-over and see that he’s wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. It sucks like hell that he looks just as good as he did that first night I saw him. I grab my toothbrush and squeeze toothpaste on it. “Your father’s here,” I whisper as I wet my toothbrush and put it in my mouth. “I’m going to need you to be on your best behavior so he knows I can do this, even if he doesn’t want me to.” I brush my teeth and then rinse my mouth. “I expect you to help me out here a little.”
I turn and walk back out of the bathroom and see him opening the bottom cupboard under the sink. “What are you doing?” I ask. He looks over at me. I notice his beard has grown in more.
