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“Might as well help me get down to my boxers. Don’t want to mess up your sheets with my dirty jeans.” He tipped his head toward her bathroom. “You got a tub in there?”

“Yes.”

“Might have to use that later. With Epsom salt, if Jem’s got some.”

Her lips tipped up slightly at the corners. “Of course she does.”

“Yeah, gonna need that.”

“Want to do that now? I can run the water for you.”

“Nah, not yet. Later, long as Jem and Cage don’t kick me out before I get a chance. Need to spend some time holdin’ you first.”

Tess helped him shed his jeans and socks and then got him into bed. She climbed in as soon as she stripped down to her bra and panties.

He laid on his side without bruised ribs and she rolled to face him until only inches separated them.

She was so fucking beautiful. Their baby was going to be just as fucking gorgeous as she was. He brushed her thick, rich brown hair away from her face and she blinked her dark brown eyes at him. They were getting shiny again.

“Know this is overwhelmin’ for you right now, Tess. Gonna do what I can to make it easier. Might not be successful but gonna do my fuckin’ damnedest.”

“Can we do this? Are we actually doing this? Becoming parents? Me and you? Together?”

Good thing his face was too broken to show his own panic over the situation because those same questions kept circling his mind. “Can we? Who knows. Are we? We got a choice?”

“Carly says we still do.”

That wasn’t what he meant. And the thought of discarding a life that he and Tess created together, even if it wasn’t planned, surprisingly caused more pain than the injuries he had.

He grabbed her chin and held her eyes. “No, Tess, we don’t,” he said slowly and carefully, especially since his mouth was fucked up. He wanted to make sure she clearly understood what he was saying.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

“Me too, babe. Me fuckin’, too. Promise we’ll get through it. We’re surrounded by good people. People way more put together than us. If we didn’t have them, it would be a different story. They better fuckin’ understand, though, we don’t need them runnin’ our lives, we only need their support and some guidance.”

“You’re talking about Trip, of course.”

“He ain’t the only one.”

She carefully undid what was left of his bun and gently combed through his hair using the fingers of her good hand. He was damn sure his long hair was as messy as his face.

He had to look scary as fuck like she said. His eyes were swollen and he didn’t need a mirror to know they were both blackened. His vision was still blurry. He sounded like he had a cold due to his puffy, broken nose. The lips she had kissed more than he could count were split and, even though Jemma had made him rinse out his mouth, it still held a metallic taste. His torso had huge blotches all over it and a massive bruise had bloomed across his ribcage.

He closed his eyes and his breathing steadied while she fussed with his hair, taking her time and being gentle as she worked out every knot she came across.

“Easy…”

“Yeah,” he murmured, enjoying her attention.

“This is serious.”

His eyes opened as much as they could, which wasn’t much. “Yeah.”

“We weren’t supposed to be serious,” she said on a resigned sigh.

Yeah, they both fucked up that plan, too. “Know it.”

“Saylor says—”

“Don’t give a fuck what Saylor says. Only give a fuck about you.” He put a hand on her hip. “Turn around. Put your ass to my dick and your back to my chest.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You want to spoon?”

“A spoon for what?”

“To spoon, not the eating utensil.” She gave him a crooked grin, then rolled over and shifted backwards, careful not to knock into him too much while she settled into place. “This is spooning.”

Well, fuck…

He’d never had a regular in his bed before her and he certainly had no reason to cuddle with randoms or sweet butts, but with Tess…

Apparently he enjoyed spooning. A lot.

He drew his fingers along the curve of her side, the dip at her waist and the rise of her hip, then backtracking before following the path of her broken arm. He touched the block letters where someone had signed her cast with black marker. He read the words under his breath.

I’m a Ride or Die chick!

This cast is proof I almost did!

Jesus fuck. “Let me guess… Saylor.”

“Since when do you have a problem with Saylor?”

“Normally, I don’t, but that shit ain’t funny. I coulda lost you that day.” He pressed his hand to the slight swell of her stomach. “Coulda lost you both.”

He had honestly thought she had put on a couple of pounds and while he didn’t give a fuck if she had put on fifty, he now knew the real reason why her belly wasn’t quite as flat as it had been in the past. He liked the extra weight on her and wouldn’t be upset if she kept some once the kid was born.

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