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“You’ll figure this out?” he repeated. He looked at her then—really looked at her. And what he saw hurt. The Renata he’d spent the night with had been fearless. Now...well, she was pregnant and scared to death. Fear could crush a spirit, he knew that firsthand. He didn’t want that for her.
He crossed to her without thinking, prepared to offer whatever support she needed. But she stopped him, one hand braced against his chest.
“Don’t. I need to stay strong, okay?” She wouldn’t look at him. “You don’t need to worry. I’ll be fine. I can do this.”
The more she said it, the more offended he became. “I’m sure you can but that’s not the way it’s going to work.” What the hell was he talking about? How was it going to work? He had some grand idea? Nope. He had nothing. His mind was free-falling. But they would come up with something. Until he had something coherent to offer, he needed to choose his words carefully. His panic was his problem, not hers. All she needed to know was he was going to be there for her. And this baby.
His baby.
Shit.
Her gaze slammed into his, startled. “Ash...” Was she trying to give him an out here? Or did she not want him around? Not that it mattered.
“What did you expect? That I’d walk away? Or, worse, pretend this baby wasn’t mine?” He kept his anger in check, barely. They hadn’t spent a whole lot of time together but what they had had been real—open and honest. That was how he lived life. “I won’t do that.”
She nodded. “I know. I thought... I was scared. I am scared. Okay.” The fight drained out of her and, this time, she didn’t resist him pulling her into his arms. It felt better then, to have her pressed against him.
He closed his eyes, battling back the images of Shanna. Curtis’s pregnancy had been one nightmare after another. Her cancer had been diagnosed her first trimester. Untreatable. Incurable. From that point on, life was one long descent into misery.
“I don’t know what happens next,” she whispered. “What to tell people. What to do. I’m a terrible liar. Terrible.”
Which was a huge comfort. “Lying is terrible. Don’t do it. The truth can hurt, but it’s real.”
He’d learned how to lie—out of necessity. Telling Shanna everything would be okay, that he was fine, that he’d live life to the fullest, for her, every day... Whatever she needed to hear to have the peace she deserved. She’d fought hard, doing everything she could to protect her pregnancy and their son. Until her body couldn’t do it anymore. Seeing his vital, fearless, dreamer of a wife turn weak and anxious had broken something inside him. He’d done his best to hide it, for her, but once those last few months had started ticking away, he’d been scared of everything. He’d known he was going to lose her and the life they’d dreamed of, and there was nothing he could do to stop that.
Renata’s wavering sigh pulled him back to the present. The way her hands gripped his shirtfront constricting the vice squeezing his already fractured heart. His arms tightened around her waist out of instinct, nothing more. They were both shaken, in need of comfort—that was all this was.
They were in this together. No mat
ter what. What he’d envisioned or wanted couldn’t compete with this baby’s needs. Now that was all that mattered. What was best for this baby.
Chapter 5
“You need to eat.” His breath tickled her ear.
Eating would require her to let go of him and she was comfortable as she was, pressed tight against the warm, strong breadth of Ash Carmichael’s chest. If she could stay like this for a few minutes longer, maybe she’d think about eating. For the first time since Dr. Santos’s shocking announcement she felt better. Sure, her world was still upside down and backward, but...better.
“Renata?” His hand stroked along her back. “It’ll help.”
Not as much as a long, warm cuddle. She kept her mouth shut and her eyes on the ground as she stepped out of his hold.
“Eating is important for you both,” he added.
Both. Meaning her baby. Their baby. The baby that was completely reliant on her. Even though this was not how she’d ever in her wildest dreams imagined things unfolding, she’d always wanted this. A baby of her own. A baby she’d shower with all the love in her heart.
Fine. She’d eat. She’d try to eat. Even if the flaky crust and creamy chicken held absolutely no appeal. With the tines of her fork, she rolled two peas free from the pie filling then sat the fork on the counter. “My stomach.” She ran her hand along the cool surface.
“Nauseous?” he asked.
“A bit. I thought it was stress. Or lack of sleep. I never thought it was...this.” She shrugged. “But it is.” She pushed off the counter and looked at him. He was taking this remarkably well. She was not. Words jammed up in her throat, so many words.
“You’d do this on your own?” he asked. “If I wasn’t here?”
She still didn’t know what his being here meant when it came to the baby. Baby. It still sounded weird.
“Renata?” His voice was low.
Right. He had questions. “Have you met my family? I’m never on my own. Besides, how could I find you?” She cleared her throat. “Ash isn’t a lot to go on.”
