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But what if he does? What are you going to do then?
CHAPTERFOUR
Lulled by the song of chirping birds and the warm sunshine coming through the window, Alex snuggled deeper into the duvet. She rolled onto her side, anticipating another final few minutes of sleep, but winced as her body made its discomfort known. She peeked her eyes open to check the time.
Her forehead crinkled in confusion. Where was her alarm clock?
She took in the strange lamp sitting atop the bedside table—a table she didn’t recognize—and her heart tripped. She shot up in bed, frantic. Her gaze tore around the room, and her breath caught in her chest.
A heartbeat later, her mind cleared.
Joe’s house.
Her breath released in a slow wheeze, and the tension eased from her muscles. She flopped back down on the mattress.
She counted her breaths and willed her heartbeat to steady. She was staring at the dome light fixture on the ceiling when it suddenly swayed to the right. A wave of nausea engulfed her, and she slapped both hands over her mouth. Stomach heaving, she scrambled out of the bed and flung open the adjoining bathroom door.
Her entire body cramped, and the contents of her stomach emptied into the toilet.
Leaning against the bathtub, she found herself soothed by the cool edge against her clammy face. She swallowed, then cringed. The bitter taste of bile brought back the nausea. She stilled, waiting it out.
Once she was relatively sure she wasn’t going to puke again, she scraped herself up off the bathroom floor and made her way to the sink with tentative steps. After washing her face and brushing her teeth twice, she studied herself in the mirror, her hands moving over her flat stomach.
Morning sickness.
She was barely a month into her pregnancy. While sheknewshe was pregnant—after all, it had been confirmed by multiple doctors, not to mention the symptoms—she was having areallyhard time believing it.
On one hand, she was thrilled. She’d always wanted to be a mother. In theory.
On the other hand, she was nervous. And if she thought about it too much, she was absolutely petrified.
Nope. Not gonna think about it.
She turned away from the mirror. Yes, it wasn’t exactly the most mature way to handle her fear, but she didn’t care. She could barely put one foot in front of the other. And at this point, she needed to focus on that.
* * *
Quinn knocked on the front door again. Annoyance had his shoulders pinching tight, and he glanced down at his watch. Where the hell was she?
Tired of waiting, he left Joe’s porch and went around the side of the house. Noticing the door to the backyard shed was open, he headed toward it instead of the back door.
Peering inside the shed, he saw Alex. Clad in enormous sweatpants and an equally oversized, hideous sweatshirt, she was on her knees, her head under a shelf as she reached for something, her backside high in the air.
Not wanting to startle her, he knocked lightly on the shed’s doorframe.
She jerked and bolted upright, slamming the back of her head on the shelf with a loud crack.
Fuck. He rushed to her. “Holy shit. Sorry, Alex. Are you okay?”
She scrambled to a seated position, cradling the back of her head with one hand, and holding the other out in front of her.
He recognized her defensive posture and froze.Lifting both arms up, he ever so slowly retreated, giving her as much space as the small shed allowed, then kneeled to join her on the ground.
“Hey, Alex. I’m not going to hurt you.” He kept his voice soft and calm. “I’m so sorry I snuck up on you like that. I didn’t mean to. Really.”
The muted light in the shed was enough to highlight the scatter of healing bruises across Alex’s face and neck. The sleeves of her sweatshirt were pushed to her elbows, and one glance at her forearms made his stomach clench. An uncountable number of stitches and butterfly bandages held her slashed skin together.
Defensive wounds.
