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“Oh honey.” Allie crossed the room in a few short steps and pulled Becka into her arms. She hugged her hard. “I know this is scary and you’re overwhelmed, but I don’t have a single doubt about you being the best mom out there. You have the luckiest little lima bean ever.”
“Lima bean.”
“Well, yeah. That’s about the size the baby is right now? I mean...”
“It’s actually closer to a lime.” She’d looked it up after the doctor confirmed the pregnancy.
“Oh wow, that’s a huge difference.” Allie laughed. “That’s not a very cute nickname, anyways. I can come up with better.”
Becka hugged her back hard. “No, I like it. Lima bean fits.” She didn’t have the heart to tell Allie that she wasn’t sure about being even a good mom, let alone the best one. Becka didn’t have much of a role model for that one, but she’d be damned before she made the same mistakes her mother did.
Except for the part where you got knocked up by a near stranger out of wedlock. So far, I’m swinging for the fences with walking in her footsteps.
Aaron half expected Becka not to be home when he arrived. He was pushing her too hard and he damn well knew it, but he couldn’t seem to get control of himself. The thought of her living in that run-down little apartment by herself, where the security was lackluster at best and the walls seemed a strong breeze away from coming down around her ears... It made him crazy. He’d never really thought about kids, other than as a vaguely theoretical “someday” in the equally vague future, but now that he had an actual baby on the way, he wasn’t about to stand back and let it want for anything.
That included living arrangements.
He clenched his jaw as he walked through Becka’s door. The place wasn’t any better than the first time he’d been there. If anything, the flaws were only more glaring. He’d missed the water stain on the wall before, where someone overhead had obviously had a leak that had come through to Becka’s apartment. Or the crack in her window that wouldn’t keep out the cold—or the heat.
She didn’t look at him as she reached for the pile of bags at her feet and shouldered her backpack. “This is temporary, Aaron. I’m not prepared to sign my life away to be your kept woman, baby or no. If you pull another high-handed move like you did earlier, I’m out and I’m not coming back.”
He clenched his jaw harder. Do not yell at her contrary ass. Be calm. Be fucking rational. “You mentioned compromise.”
“I’m surprised you know the word.”
Aaron scooped up the remaining three bags and shot her a look that dared her to argue with him taking them. “Let’s go. I have a car waiting downstairs.” He chose to ignore her muttering uncomplimentary things and followed her down the dim hallway to the rickety elevator. Through it all, he kept his damn mouth shut. They were both on a hair trigger, and he didn’t need to be the one to set things aflame. Especially not now that they needed to sit down and have a serious discussion.
But he still couldn’t stop himself from asking. “When did you know?”
“Four weeks ago.” She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder and marched out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened, Aaron on her heels.
“You’ve known for a month and only called me yesterday.”
“That is how math works.”
He instinctively held the front door open for her and pointed at the black car idling at the curb. Aaron grabbed her backpack and loaded all the bags into the trunk. He joined Becka in the back seat, his irritation only growing when she pulled out her phone and started playing some puzzle game. “Why didn’t you call me as soon as you knew?”
“I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so there was no reason to bring you into the conversation until I made my decision.”
If she wanted to keep it or not.
He stared straight ahead as his driver merged into traffic. Aaron knew he ultimately had no say in her choice, and he wouldn’t have taken that from her even if the thought of her terminating the pregnancy opened a hole in his chest that he didn’t know how to process. He’d known he was going to be a father for less than twelve hours. There was absolutely no logical reason for him already to be attached to the idea of this baby, let alone the baby itself. It wasn’t even really a baby yet.
None of that seemed to matter.
He looked back at Becka, noting the changes he’d been too distracted to take in earlier. Even without the makeup she’d worn the night he met her, her skin damn near glowed, and her still-blue hair, though now more turquoise than actual blue, seemed glossier. His gaze skated over her black leggings and still-flat stomach to her breasts pressing against her tank top. Those have definitely changed.
