Page 43 of Make it a Double

Beckett’s smile faltered.

And then I threw up all over the table.

BECKETT

My rental car reeked of vomit as I drove Sawyer and me back to Frank’s. Neither of us had uttered a single word in fifteen minutes. It wasn’t a far drive from the restaurant, but I’d driven at least five miles under the speed limit with my hands clutched around the steering wheel in a death grip.

“The baby’s father.”

Everything happened so fast. One minute, I was trying to lay my cards out on the table and tell Sawyer that even though I knew nothing about relationships or how to make them work, I wanted to explore that with her. The next, some woman was telling me Sawyer was pregnant, and then she threw up all over me and our table.

To top it all off with a fucking cherry, our waitress had stood there, blinking, for the whole goddamn thing. Then, when the entire restaurant was staring at our table, she ran away to get the manager before I could ask her for napkins or a goddamn mop to clean up.

Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I watched Sawyer pull my jacket tighter around her shoulders. Her eyes were red-rimmed and glassy. The little mascara she’d worn to dinner was tracked down her face. She hadn’t stopped crying since we left the restaurant with every single eye locked on our backs.

I wanted to say something, anything, really, but everything seemed so stupid. What was I supposed to do? Ask her if she was okay? If she needed anything? I already knew the answer to both of those things. It was written across her face plain as fucking day.

Also, I needed a minute to wrap my head around what the hell just happened.

Sawyer was pregnant. I may not have had any experience with what we were currently dealing with, but I did know two things:

One: It took two to tango.

Two: She’d kept it from me.

It hadn’t taken me long to run the mental calculations of the time that’d passed since I had Sawyer splayed out on my bed and now. Nearly six months to the day. She had told me from the beginning she’d never had a one-night stand before.

I had so many questions, but two big ones came to mind. The first being, “Is it mine?” and the second being, “Were you ever going to tell me?”

This was a fucking mess.

Even though I wasn’t sure the answer to either of those, I wasn’t ready to be a dad. Especially not while I was in the process of carefully dismantling the legacy my own had built. He certainly hadn’t shown me what it was like to lead with compassion in any aspect of my life, or what unconditional love felt like when his interest in me was tied to what I could offer him.

Frank’s sign came into view up ahead. I slowed, turning my blinker on before pulling into the full parking lot. The sound of gravel crunching beneath my tires sent my anxiety into overdrive. If I stopped this car, Sawyer was going to bolt. She was already reaching for her purse, gathering everything as quickly as possible so she could jump out at a moment’s notice.

I couldn’t have that.

Instead, I drove right past where she’d parked, flipped a U-turn, and pulled back on the highway toward my cabin.

“What’re you doing?” Sawyer asked, turning over her shoulder to stare at her car sitting in the parking lot while I zoomed away at a fast, but perfectly legal, speed. “Take me back.”

“Nope,” I said, tightening my grip on the wheel. Panic was rising with each second of continued silence. “If I do that, you’re going to run, and we need to have a conversation, Sawyer.”

“No. Take me back.”

I shook my head, tightening my grip on the wheel. “No. We’re going to talk about this first.” She shrank back into her seat, wrapping my jacket tightly around her. I hated feeling like a dick, but I hated not knowing what the fuck was going on even more.

“What’s your plan then, Beckett? Are you just going to kidnap me? Because that’s kind of what this feels like.”

“Of course not,” I scoffed. Okay, maybe she had a point. This did feel a bit like kidnapping, but what choice did I have? She hadn’t denied wanting to run. The moment I let her out of sight, she was going to bolt for the hills, and I’d never get her alone again. This was me getting creative. “We’re just going for a drive.”

“I don’t want to. I’m tired, it smells like vomit, and I—” she squeezed her eyes and swallowed thickly “—I need fresh air.”

Thankfully, we weren’t far from my cabin. The moment I turned onto the same familiar road, I was taken back to that night. Sawyer had been beside me, looking at me like I was worth something. Her giddy, nervous demeanor had been exciting. Intoxicating, almost. I couldn’t wait to get her alone.

This was different. She looked like a trapped animal pacing in a cage with her white-knuckle grip on the seatbelt. The energy around us was frenetic. Electrically charged currents of warning that I wasn’t sure how to circumvent. There were no notes on what I should do. No books I’d read, or business proposals I’d ever studied, would help me figure out how to talk her off the proverbial ledge.

“How far along are you?” I asked, glancing out of the corner of my eye.