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“Where’s her mother?”
“Dead. She was one of Neal’s side pieces. He came home one day with her and said she was my problem.”
“Does she have a family?”
“Neal said the grandma didn’t want to keep Brooklyn. She threatened to hand the kid over to Child Services who would hunt him down for support. That’s the only reason he took Brooklyn. He figured it’d be cheaper than the government getting involved.”
“How old was she?”
“Eight months. I’m her mother. I can’t give her to Neal’s family. They treat her like shit.”
“No one is taking her.”
Studying his handsome face, I murmur, “I believe you.”
“Why?” he asks, suspicious again.
“You might have lied to many people. So far, you’ve only told me the truth. Why wouldn’t I trust you?”
“You’re too calm.”
“Do you want me to cry? I’m eight months pregnant. Give me a few minutes and I’m sure I can whip up my hormones.”
Frowning hard as if I’ve hurt his feelings, he mutters, “No, I want you to be real.”
“This is me, Silas. It’s how I act. I rarely cry freely or pout or show fear. I’m sure some of it comes out. But I’ve learned to control myself.”
“Because of Neal?”
“No, long before him.”
“When?”
I sit on the couch and wait for him to join me. Silas treats the gesture as a trap as if I’ll jump him when he lowers his guard. With my legs crisscrossed, I rub my belly and grin at his behavior.
“Why are you scared of me?” I ask, fighting laughter. “In a fight, you hold a serious advantage.”
Silas gives me a little smirk before finally settling his large frame on the lush leather couch.
“The only person whose hurt me in twenty years was a woman I believed was mine. I swore I’d never be a fool again. Yet, here I am, giving you the power to tear out my heart. So, yeah, I’m wary.”
“I’ve never broken a man’s heart.”
“Give it time,” he mutters in a hostile tone that doesn’t match the intoxicating way he’s looking at me.
“Do you want to feel the baby move?” I ask and reach for his hand. “She’s been kicking like crazy since lunch.”
Silas keeps his hand frozen on his lap despite me tugging at it.
Scooting closer, I don’t relent. “Are you afraid? Baby kicks don’t hurt.”
“Stop asking if I’m scared.”
“There’s no harm in fear. I nurse a healthy amount of it at all times.”
“Are you afraid right now?”
“Yes.”
