Page 172 of No Good Fight

Mrs. Vance looks between us and wisely reaches for her tea again.

I turn in my chair.

“Ryder.”

His eyes finally lift to mine.

“Are you pregnant?”

There is so much inside the question that my nerves disappear.

I nod.

“Yeah.”

He stays where he is for another second before his hand falls away from the doorway. Then he crosses the kitchen slowly, like he needs the extra time to understand what I just told him.

I expect him to stop beside me. Instead, he crouches.

His hands come to my knees first, warm and steady, while his face tilts up toward mine. I’ve seen Ryder scared. I know the hard blankness he wears when fear gets big enough that he doesn’t trust himself with it.

His eyes are wet. “You’re sure?”

“I’m pretty sure four tests qualify. But I’m open to more testing when I need to pee again, if you want.”

A rough breath leaves him, almost a laugh, but he doesn’t look away from me. His thumb moves once against my knee before his gaze drops to my stomach.

I take one of his hands and move it beneath mine.

His palm spreads over my shirt.

There is nothing to feel yet, but Ryder’s face changes anyway.

I reach for his cheek with my free hand. “I was going to tell you tonight.”

He nods slowly, still looking down. “Okay.”

“I wasn’t hiding it from you.”

“I know.”

The answer is quiet and immediate.

He brings my hand away from his face and kisses my palm before pressing it against his mouth for another second.

When he finally looks at me again, there’s so much happiness mixed into the disbelief that I start crying despite every effort not to.

Ryder notices and rises enough to pull me against him carefully, and I bury my face against his shoulder while his hand stays over my stomach.

Mrs. Vance gives us the dignity of pretending to study the newspaper again.

I don’t know how long Ryder holds me before his body goes abruptly still.

He pulls back.

“Shit.”

I blink at him through wet lashes. “What?”