You’re in a good mood,” Duncan said the moment he spotted Owen entering Cuppa Jo’s for a coffee fix.
Owen couldn’t have stopped the smile that formed even if he’d faced a firing squad. “It’s Christmas. Who doesn’t love Christmas?”
“Ahh,” Duncan said. “His coffee is on me,” he said to the girl behind the register.
Owen placed his order and leaned against the counter to take the weight off his injured leg. The bullet wound had healed nicely, but the cold weather was making it ache.
“So does your good mood mean that things are better with Tasha?” Duncan asked.
“No, not really. But I hope they’ll be better soon.”
“And you’re out and about because…?”
“I’m behind on my Christmas shopping. Speaking of which, you busy? I could probably use an opinion from someone who’s already been there.” Owen accepted his coffee from the barista and took a careful sip of the hot brew.
“Been where?” Duncan asked.
“The jewelry store’s ring section.” Owen watched as his friend’s eyebrows lifted at the statement, but he chose to ignore Duncan’s surprise. “I thought about waiting, but why should we? After everything that happened, I think it’s more reason to jump in with both feet.”
“You sure that’s wise?” Duncan asked once they had moved away from the counter toward an empty part of the coffee shop.
“What do you mean?”
“Owen, I get where you’re coming from. You love her, and you can’t wait to make her yours and show her how much you want to be with her. But Tasha had a rough time of it while you were gone.”
“I know that.”
“And you’re sure you aren’t pushing things a little too fast?” Duncan questioned.
Owen thought about his suspicions and just as quickly shook his head. Did Tasha really think he wouldn’t notice all the changes in her body? Her behavior? Thin though she was, he had definitely noticed the slightly larger, firmer curve of her stomach.
She’d tried to hide the sound of her retching with music, but he’d heard. She’d hurled yesterday morning, too, though at the time, he hadn’t been sure. Pregnant or not… “I love her. I want to marry her. The entire time I was rotting in Mexico, it’s all I could think about. How I’d had my chance with her, and I hadn’t taken it as seriously as I should. I wasn’t much of a religious man before but I prayed in that cell. Prayed hard. Can’t help but think God’s given me a second chance, and I’m not going to waste it.”
Duncan accepted the words with a nod. “Any idea of how you’re going to propose?”
“Yeah, and if you’re not doing anything, I may need your help and Beth’s, too. Got any plans for the rest of the day?”
Come on, what’s taking so long?” Owen murmured that evening after he’d stood and retrieved the switch he needed for the first part of his surprise.
The moment Tasha’s key slid into the lock and the door opened, he pressed the button, and the interior of the house lit up with bright white lights.
Tasha gasped and stared at him, the fire burning in the hearth, candles atop the mantel, then at the six-foot blue spruce he’d picked up on the way home. Duncan and Bethany had arrived soon after, and they had gone to work decorating for Christmas. “Well? What do you think?”
Tasha looked paler than normal, and he chalked it up to not enough sleep. At least, that’s what he hoped it was. Did women get morning sickness in the evening? Was she carrying his child?
“It’s… pretty. You shouldn’t have gone to the fuss, though. Christmas will be here and gone in a couple of days.”
But he wouldn’t be, and that was the point he wanted to get across to her with his spur-of-the-moment romantic evening. He’d meant what he’d said to Emma at the Shak. He was in this with Tasha for the long haul— if she’d have him. “The house was the only one on the street without a tree. I didn’t know where you stored your decorations, but I’ll get them out tomorrow.”
She set her purse and keys on the table by the door, shrugged off her coat, all in silence.
“You must be tired. Have a seat,” he said, turning to grab the two glasses of champagne he’d poured, another small test to find out if she was keeping him in the dark about a possible pregnancy or if she even knew herself. Could it be that she didn’t know? Hard as she worked, and with so much going on, he supposed it was possible. Maybe the champagne wasn’t such a good idea?
Out of his peripheral vision, he saw her move closer to him with slow steps, but the moment he faced her with the champagne, she stopped as though rooted to the floor. “Champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries. Your favorite.” He waited for her to take the flute, but she didn’t. “Tasha?”
“I’m pregnant.”
He quickly set the flutes aside and wrapped her in his arms, lifted her off her feet in a bear hug. “Oh, baby, that’s fantastic,” he said, murmuring the words against her cheek before he kissed her soft skin. He shifted to kiss her on the lips, but at the last second, she turned her head.
“Owen, put me down. Please.”
The second her feet touched the floor, Tasha straight-armed him and shoved him away.
“I can’t believe you’re happy about this.”
“Of course I’m happy about it,” he countered. “Tash, look, I know it’s not the best of circumstances or the way we’d have liked things to go but—”
“I thought about giving it away,” she said, turning her back to him and moving to the kitchen. She pulled a mug from the cabinet and poured herself a glass of filtered water. “But then I thought of how it would feel to know I was handing a child over to total strangers and counting on them to care for and love and raise him or her… I realized I couldn’t do it.”
“I wouldn’t have let you,” he told her, following her as far as the entry to the galley kitchen.
She stiffened at his statement, her back and shoulders pulling tight.
“But,” she continued softly, “I also know I can’t raise a baby with a man who risks his life for a living. I know it’s not fair,” she said, sliding around so that she leaned her hips against the counter behind her. “You were right when you said I knew what you did for a living before… But now that it’s… confirmed, it’s up to me—”
“Us,” he quickly corrected.
“—to protect this baby from harm. That means protecting it from the pain and loss and devastation it would feel to love a father who won’t be here for him when he needs it.”
He fisted his hands at his sides and fought the rage boiling to the surface. “You are not going to keep me from my child, Tasha. I don’t even know why we’re having this discussion. I love you,” he said quietly. “I know you’re scared, but are you really going to stand there and pretend you don’t feel the same about me?”
She wouldn’t look at him.
“I do love you,” she finally whispered. “You know I do.”
Relief left him weak. “Then work with me here, sweetheart. Tasha… We’ll figure something out. We’ll get married, and—”
“No.”
“Tasha—”
“I refuse to go through what I’ve been through the last few months every time you walk out the door.” She crossed her arms over her front and shook her head, her eyes sparkling with tears. “We’re both adults, Owen. We both know that sometimes love isn’t enough to make something work. I can’t do this. It’s not fair to you, and I am sorry, but I can’t. I won’t change my mind, either. I’m not marrying you. I won’t. You need to leave.”