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It was still hard to believe the face staring back at him in the reflection of the window was him. Finn rubbed his jaw, the coarse hair scraping against his palm. His beard grew twice as fast now. His finger trailed to one of his healing cuts, sore from having the stitches removed.
The radio played low—some R & B channel his parents had on. His mother had given up on trying to spark conversation between him and Charli thirty miles ago. He preferred the silence right now. He wanted some space and something familiar.
His father turned the corner, pulling into the driveway of a small, white house with dark eggplant shutters and a front door to match.
“This is it,” Zeke said, turning to him. His father’s expectation was clear. Be a man, son. A man owns up to his responsibility.
There would be no going home with his parents, back to his room with basketball trophies and posters of his favorite bands. Is that stuff even there anymore? No, there would be no coddling from his father. There never was.
“Do you need help carrying in anything?” his mother asked, opening her door.
His father’s hand shot out to hers, halting her. She turned to him, a silent message passing between them.
“Let the boy go, Claire. He and Charli need to get settled.”
His mother nodded before facing him. Her gaze volleyed from him to Charli. “Call me if you two need anything. We’re right down the road. Belle said she delivered some groceries, so you shouldn’t have to run right out.”
Who’s Belle?
“Okay. Thank you both for everything.” Charli opened the door and climbed down, her hand going to her lower back.
His panic rose. He was supposed to follow her, a complete stranger, who was carrying his baby. Only, Finn was a virgin, wasn’t he?
“Take care, son,” Zeke said.
That was his cue. Finn took a deep breath, opened the door, and climbed out. The sun was setting, making the sky glow orange as the cool and crisp September air sent a chill through him. Charli had the trunk open, pulling the handle of her suitcase.
“I can get that,” he offered out of habit. His mama had raised a gentleman. Weren’t pregnant women supposed to avoid carrying things?
She shook her head. “I can manage. It has wheels. Plus, your bag is really heavy.” She nodded towards the long military duffle. He picked it up and swung it around his shoulder before closing the trunk to his parents’ CRV. He followed Charli up the stone path to the house, noting the handprints in one paver. C+F = Forever.
The jangling of keys pulled his attention back to the house. The quiet hum of his parents’ car faded as they drove away. Charli opened the door for him. He held it as she walked in, the thud and roll of her suitcase trailing after her.
Finn entered, searching for anything to spark a memory. A few pairs of men’s boots and shoes lined the edge of the wall mixed with tiny heels and sandals he assumed were Charli’s under the built-in coatrack. Charli slipped out of her shoes and hung up the jean jacket she’d been wearing. He did the same, following her lead.
She turned her face, peeking a glance at him before shyly tucking a strand of raven hair behind her ear. “I guess I’ll, uh, give you a tour of the house?”
“Sure.” He nodded.
Swiveling around, she led him along the hallway. His gaze dropped to her round ass swaying, swirling up emotions he was familiar with but on a whole other level. Sex was something he’d thought a lot about but hadn’t actually gone that far with yet. Only, his pregnant wife would probably beg to differ. Would Charli expect him to have sex with her? Panic seized his chest as he stumbled before righting himself.
Pictures on the wall caught his eye. There was one of him in his heavily decorated Army Service Uniform, one arm around a dressed-up Charli. They were smiling and laughing together. He was in a graduation gown in the next frame, hoisting her into his arms with his cap on her head. She beamed at him, pride pouring from the picture. Apparently after four years of JROTC in high school, he’d attended junior college until he was married at twenty. After being commissioned, he’d gone on his first tour before enrolling in a bachelor’s program. At least, that’s what his mother had told him. He had a degree in business and couldn’t even remember applying to college.
His gaze moved along to another picture of Charli in a white gown. He’d lifted her up, lips locked to hers as his hand grasped her ass. They looked happy.
“That was our wedding day,” she whispered as if she were afraid the wrong movement would provoke another freak-out from him.
She’d been tentative around him since he’d woken in the hospital in Washington three weeks ago. He didn’t like it. But he also didn’t know what to do about it. Maybe she’d always been this way.
“This is the living room.” She pointed to his right. A long grey couch decorated with white and purple pillows took up most of the space. A rectangular coffee table sat before it strewn with motorcycle and embroidery magazines.
“Nice.” He wasn’t sure what else to say.
“And through here is the dining room slash kitchen.”
He turned, taking in the off-white cabinets and grey backsplash. The square table was built into the large kitchen island with booth-like seats around three sides.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
