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I hate to worry him, so I send back a quick, mostly truthful message.
Me
I’m fine. I’ll see you soon.
I spend the next ten minutes just staring at the word on the pregnancy test. Pregnant. Like the universe took a red Sharpie and underlined my whole existence twice, maybe three times, just to make sure I get the point. My hands won't stop shaking. I take a breath. Then another. Still shaking.
Get it together, Tinsley. Happiness, excitement, fear, and terror all combine together deep in my soul, leaving me totally confused.
I wipe my face. Grip the sink. I glance in the mirror and realize I look like a mess with my mascara smudged, my hair half out of its tie, and my skin is so pale, I could moonlight as a vampire. I want to panic, but there’s no time for that. I dry my hands, dig a tote bag out from behind the bathroom door, and shove a few things I don’t really need into it along with the test stick.
Outside, the sky is acid blue, and the sun is blinding. I pull my sunglasses down over my eyes and head straight for the Corolla.
The drive out to Carrington Ranch takes twelve minutes, which feels like forever. By the time I hit the long gravel drive, my foot is shaking so bad I almost miss the turn.
I pull up and see Hudson’s big black truck sitting in the front driveway. My heart beats so loud it pounds in my ears. After parking, I take a deep breath and force myself out of the car. My knees almost buckle, but I somehow make it up the path, every step punctuated by the anxious riot in my chest.
I step in the door and Hudson walks around the corner. His eyes sharpen the second he sees me standing in the doorway.
"You're pale," he says, his voice dropping into that low, protective register that used to irritate me and now just makes me want to lean into him. He reaches out, his thumb catching my chin to tilt my face toward the light. "And you're shaking. What happened?"
"It's just been a long day," I lie, but the words feel thin, like parchment paper. I can't look at him. If I look at him, he'll see the math written in my eyes. Hudson doesn't just see people; he assesses them. He knows the exact rhythm of my breath and the specific way I bite my lip when I'm hiding something.
"Tinsley," he says, and it's not a question. It's a command for honesty. "Tell me what's wrong."
I let out a shaky laugh and wrap my arms around his waist. “I think… I think I might be pregnant.”
The silence that follows is absolute. I hold my breath, waiting for his reaction. He doesn’t disappoint me. The tension in his jaw vanishes, replaced by a look so soft and hopeful it actually hurts to see. It's as if a light has been switched on inside him.
"A baby," he says, the word sounding like a prayer. His hand comes up to cup my cheek with a tenderness that makes my throat close. "That’s fucking great. I can’t wait to have at least six or seven kids with you."
"Six or seven?" I ask, my voice cracking, the tears I've been holding back finally pricking at my eyelids. "I think we’re going to have to start with the one and see where things go."
He leans in, pressing his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin. The world outside the truck disappears. "That sounds like a plan to me. I want to spend my life with you, Tinsley. All of it. The messy, unplanned, terrifying parts included. We’ll do it together."
He drops to his knees right there in the front hall, his large hands coming out to rest flat against my stomach. He just leans his head against me, his breath hitching in a way that tells me he's closer to tears than he'd ever admit. I can feel the warmth of his palms through my shirt, a steady, pulsing heat that seems to calm the storm inside me.
"We're going to be a family," he whispers against the fabric of my shirt, his voice muffled but certain. "I've got you, Tinsley. I've got both of you. I promise you, on everything I own and everything I am, you'll never have to do this alone. You're not losing part of your life. We're starting a new one."
I reach down, my fingers tangling in his sandy hair, anchoring myself to him as the world shifts beneath us. He looks up at me, his hazel eyes clear and unwavering, offering me a partnership that isn't about control or surrender, but about sharing the weight of everything that comes next.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HUDSON
I take her soft hand in mine and lead her to the master bedroom. I'm not a man who hesitates, but my hand is actually shaking as I reach into the nightstand drawer for the ring I bought the first week I met her. I pull it out, the deep blue fabric of the box catching the silver light, and I feel my throat tighten in a way that has nothing to do with the dry Texas air.
"Hudson?" she whispers, her voice small, fragile in a way that makes me want to burn the rest of the world down just to keep her warm. She looks at the box, then up at me, her breath hitching in her chest.
"I’ve been waiting for the right moment to give this to you. I didn’t want to rush things," I say, my voice gravelly and thick. I sit on the mattress and pull her down next to me. "I bought this the night you rejected me in the Montoya lobby. I walked out of that building feeling like I'd been slapped and woken up all at the same time."
I flip the lid open. The ring isn't a ten-carat showpiece designed to brand her as a piece of arm candy. It's an antique, a simple one-carat diamond set in delicate gold filigree. It's gorgeous. It’s understated. It's perfect. Just like her.
Tinsley's breath hitches, a sharp sound that cuts through the room. She looks at the ring, then back at me, her eyes filling with a shimmering, liquid light. "The night we met. Hudson, you didn't even know me."
"I knew you stole my heart on the spot," I admit, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering on her soft skin. "I walked out of that meeting and went straight to the jeweler. I knew even then that I'd spend the rest of my life trying to earn you. Please tell me you’ll marry me."
She lets out a sob, a broken, beautiful sound of relief that lands right in the center of my chest. The fears she carried about 'losing herself' to a man like me, the walls she built to protect her independence from the world, I can see them vanishing in the depths of those aqua eyes. She lunges forward, her arms wrapping around my neck so hard I nearly topple backward.
