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I just sat there with my phone in my hand. I didn’t know what to say—what to feel. I totally believed a woman’s body was hers alone. No one else got a vote in what she did with it. But I hoped she’d at least tell me if that was what was going on.
She’d tell me, right?
Right?
The trailer door burst open as my daughter ran into the room. “Dada!”
And I had to shove all that noise to the background and concentrate on what was in front of me. My daughter.
* * *
Briar was waiting up for me when I got home. Sitting there reading on our sofa like it was a regular day. Her face lit up when she saw me. She set her tablet down and raced across the room and hugged me.
My arms reflexively went around her. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” She tugged my head down and gave me a huge, tongue-filled kiss.
I stepped into her until my jeans rubbed against her thin cotton shorts and took over the kiss. In seconds, she was swaying against me, her arms wrapped around the back of my neck.
“Oh King,” she murmured as I kissed my way down her neck.
I groaned into her skin as her enterprising hand found my hard length through my jeans and squeezed. The jolt actually woke up my brain. I remembered.
Pulling back with a smothered groan, I rested my forehead against hers. “Hey, we should talk about a few things before all the blood leaves my brain.”
“Okay.” Briar took a step back but grabbed my hand and pulled me to her spot on the couch. “Thanks for the day off, by the way. I had an appointment that took me forever to get, and I really didn’t want to cancel. I appreciate you making it happen for me.”
Sitting on the couch next to her, I angled my body so I faced her. “That’s actually what we need to talk about, in addition to a few other things.”
“I’m not following.”
“Uh, I kinda thought you’d know by now, but I’m guessing not.”
“Huh?” Her forehead wrinkled as she blinked in confusion at my non-explanation.
Shit, I was screwing this up. “My publicist came by my trailer to let me know that you were papped coming out of a women’s clinic in the Valley. And now there’s speculation online that you’re pregnant.”
She scoffed. “I wish.”
“Wait, what?” I boggled.
“Oh my god.” Briar buried her face in her hands. “I didn’t mean it like that. I swear, I’m not trying to get pregnant. Oh my god. My appointment was with a fertility specialist. And I know how that sounds. I had questions about what was possible because of my miscarriage. I’m missing a fallopian tube. I was worried it would be difficult, if not impossible, for me to get pregnant. Eventually, I want to have children of my own, but I’m not planning on getting pregnant. Not anytime soon, I mean.”
I’d opened my mouth more than once to interject during her rambling explanation, but she just kept going. And then by the end I was grinning. She was just so fucking cute and embarrassed and apologetic over nothing. If anyone should’ve been apologetic, it was me. I opened my mouth to say as much when she blurted out—
“What do you mean speculation online that I’m pregnant? Why would anyone think I was pregnant?”
Oh shit. “Uh, because you were coming out of a women’s clinic?”
I don’t know why I phrased it like a question, but I had. I knew better than to bring up the baby bump assumption.
She frowned. “But I could’ve just been there for an annual appointment. That’s stupid.”
“Never said the paps were smart. But you might want to stay off social media for a while. Lots of people have lots of stupid opinions.”
She shrugged. “I deleted my accounts back when all the attention started. It wasn’t worth it to give those jerks free reign in my head.”
“That’s probably best. I don’t even go online myself. Adam and Jayne tell me what’s going on with social media or whatever attention I get in the news. It’s easier that way.” Everything I was feeling was all tangled up. Happiness. Relief that she wasn’t pregnant. A little bit sad she wasn’t. It was confusing. “Uh, did you want to talk about your appointment?”
