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“I’ll take care of it,” he says, and I roll my lips, trying to keep from crying. “You don’t have to be strong. Not tonight. Not with me.”
I nod, unable to look away from his captive gaze. He’s looking at me—into me—as if he sees all of me, everything I desperately want to hide from him. “I’m scared,” I whisper, choked with tears. “What if something happens to the baby?”
“It won’t.” His words, gentle and confident, anchor me. “Just breathe.”
I inhale and exhale as he wipes my tears with his free hand. And with every breath, I feel lighter.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” His words, low and comforting, turn my silent cries into sobs.
I’m so lost in my own messed-up reality that I’m unprepared when Hunter shrugs off his suit jacket, lies down on the edge of my cot, and pulls me close to him. It shouldn’t feel this familiar—being in his arms. But it does, as if no time has passed at all. And it shouldn’t feel this good, as if a sliver of what we shared was real. It wasn’t, though, but in this moment, I don’t care.
I relax into him with my nose to his chest, wetting his dress shirt with my snot and tears. “Thank you. For being here.”
His chin settles on the top of my head. “Where else would I be?”
I breathe in his scent and close my eyes. He smells so good, like a spicy cologne and baked bread. “You’re all dressed up.”
“I work the front of the house on Saturdays.”
“I like your restaurant. The one in the Theater District,” I say drowsily. “The food was on point.”
“You should’ve told me. I would’ve given you a special table and comped your food.”
“You were in Saint Lucia.” At his silence, I ask, “Is she your girlfriend?”
“Who?”
“The woman you took to Saint Lucia.”
“I never said I took anyone.”
“So you didn’t?” I yawn.
“She’s just a friend.”
I snuggle closer into Hunter without disturbing all the cords attached to me. He holds me tighter as we settle into comfortable silence, with the whooshing sound of our baby’s steady heartbeat filling the room.
“I love that sound,” he finally says.
“Me too. It’s the best sound ever.” I yawn again.
Hunter’s fingers whisper up and down my arm. “Why don’t you get some sleep? I’m not going anywhere.”
The gentleness of his fingers on my arm, the heat from his body, and the sound of our baby’s steady heartbeat lull me to sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
It’s after midnight when we leave the hospital. Hunter helps me into his Porsche and reaches over to buckle my seat belt. As he walks around the car, I recline my seat. I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. I’m already dozing by the time he slides into the driver’s side and fires up the engine. BJ The Chicago Kid’s “Woman’s World” is on the radio. The soothing sounds of the song relax me further.
“I could sleep for a week,” I say, looking over at Hunter.
He leans back against his seat, turning his head to me. “Stay with me tonight.”
We stare at each other as the car idles and a gentle heat blows from the vents. My thoughts travel back to that humid night in Texas when he asked me the same thing in a very different context. Is he asking me now out of obligation?
My brows pull together. “Why?”
“I want to make sure that you and the baby are okay. If you need anyone tonight, I want it to be me. We can grab some clothes from your place, or I could stay with you tonight. I can crash on the couch or on your floor.”
