Tasha scooted by him and left the tiny kitchen, but Owen followed her into the living room.
“You want me to quit my job.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “How many times have you been shot at?” she asked, knowing the number was far, far too high. “Or, just answer this—how many times have you been shot? Faced a knife, or a weapon, or been in a fight in the name of duty?”
Considering he still carried the bruises, cuts, and a bullet hole presently healing, she didn’t really expect an answer.
Owen raised his hands and took a step closer.
“I’m still here, sweetheart. I know I’m not invincible, but I am careful. I take every precaution I can. Last time… I thought Charlie’s disappearance was open and shut. I would have waited had I dug deeper and known what was going on.”
She closed her eyes at his response, and a muffled sound left her throat. “Owen, I love you. I love you so much I resent you asking me to marry you knowing I could very well have to watch you die. It’s not fair. It’s not right, and I can’t do it. I won’t do it. Please, just forget I told you about the pregnancy. This baby is mine.”
She attempted to escape into the spare bedroom after her declaration, but Owen caught her and blocked the way with his body.
Despite the weight loss and treatment he’d received at the hands of his captors, he was still strong, still intimidating to those who didn’t know him well. Still handsome, his looks striking.
She stared up at him in the tree-lit hallway and fought the pull of attraction she always felt whenever he was near. Fought the pain ripping her to pieces.
It was better to hurt now than later. How much worse would she hurt having lost him, gotten him back, only to lose him again when he raced out the door for a job? Like his Viking ancestors, Owen relished the thought of battle, of taking on the bad guys and winning.
“Ours,” he said simply, the word accompanied by the slightest shake of her shoulders.
He did nothing to hurt her or scare her, but she recognized it as Owen trying to make his point. Still, she blinked, unable to think straight when he stood so close. “What?”
Owen lowered his head until she had to meet his gaze, his nose nearly rubbing against hers.
“The baby is ours. Sweetheart, I can tell this has taken you by surprise. Me, too. But it’s a good surprise. Tash…” He lowered his head even more. “Give it some time. Give us some time. Don’t do this. I dreamed of coming back to you. I prayed to see you again, to be with you. Marry you. Loving you kept me alive when I was away. Now you’re trying to end us?”
Her heart broke at the anguish in his tone. She didn’t want to hurt him. “I don’t want to. I have to. You don’t understand.”
“You’re scared.”
“Of course I am! Owen, I know animals, pets. I don’t know anything about kids except— I know they have to be protected.”
“Not from me.”
“Yes, from you,” she said, the tears she fought so hard to hide leaking from her eyes. “From the danger you seek out every time you go to work. You run toward trouble, not away from it. This whole thing with Bethany… It’s a perfect example.”
Owen inhaled a ragged breath and pressed his forehead to hers.
“Bethany wouldn’t have had any problems at all had her ex not tried to blackmail a money launderer.”
“And you wouldn’t have gone missing had you simply gone to see Bethany as you said you were, instead of turning it into an investigation.”
“You can’t ask me to give up my job.”
A huff of a laugh left her, and she made a face. “I’m not. That’s just it, Owen. I know you don’t want to quit. And I know you would resent me if I asked you to. That’s why… I’m asking you to leave,” she said, barely able to get the words out. “And to leave us—the baby and me—be.”
“You don’t mean that.”
He stood over her, crowding her against the wall. His hands cupped her face and nape as he stared down at her, and with the light of his surprise Christmas tree, she saw every line and shadow of his features. The remainder of the bruises marring his skin, the cut slicing his eyebrow. Her eyes blurred with tears she blinked away, desperate to memorize every detail. “I do,” she whispered, well aware that it wasn’t the “I do” he wanted.
She wet her lips, waiting, hoping he would kiss her good-bye. One last kiss, one last bit of comfort and love and treasure to hold her in the years to come. Instead, he simply lowered his hands to his sides and took a step back, straightening to his full height.
“This isn’t over, Tasha. I’m not giving up on you. On us. We have a life now, one we created together.”
Tasha leaned her shoulders against the wall behind her and welcomed the support keeping her upright. “I’m not going to change my mind. Some things are just too hard. I can’t work full-time and be a full-time mom and always wonder if you’re coming home or not. And I won’t be that woman you hate because you gave up something you love. Owen, don’t you see? We can’t win here.”
Owen glared down at her but finally broke away to grab his keys from the table, his coat from the hook by the door.
“This isn’t over.”
After the door slammed shut behind him, she closed her eyes and hugged her arms around her front, her legs folding beneath her so that she sank to the floor. She opened her mouth to cry, to release the sobs building in her chest, but no sound emerged, the pain too great.
The old-fashioned clock in the hall clicked and began to chime. Midnight.
It was officially Christmas Eve.
Her phone rang, startling her. The Besties or Owen knew to use her cell phone if they needed her. The calls from her clinic forwarded to a service in the evening hours, but in case of emergency, the service rang her here at the house.
She hurried to the base and picked up the portable phone, pressing it to her ear and welcoming the distraction. “Dr. Carter.”