TODAY 8:45 AM
Eric tried to ignore the headache eating at his temples. He should have never done those tequila shots last night. But being unable to reach Rylie after returning to CONUS hit him harder than he wanted to admit. Unfortunately, finding relief inside a bottle hadn’t been the answer either.
Where is she?
He threw his empty sea bag into the closet with more force than necessary. Which didn’t relieve any of his frustration.
First rule of order was to shave his beard. Second was to see Rylie and figure out what the fuck was going on. He’d lay in some food as soon as he had his life squared away.
He always called once a week, the one time a week he was able to use the SAT phone. And he’d missed her every time for the past month.
Then he resorted to writing a letter a week, but never got a single reply.
He even tried Facetime, but never caught her on the computer. That really worried him. She was always on her computer. If something had happened to her…
He wouldn’t think like that. Everything was fine until four weeks ago. And the last time they spoke, everything seemed good. She couldn’t be blowing him off. Not possible.
The way they’d been together… Their bodies were made to give each other pleasure. Their minds would hook on the same ideas during a discussion. And her laugh was so damn infectious, he couldn’t get enough of it.
If he could just get a moment with her face-to-face, he could remind her why they needed to be together. It was six long months since he’d seen her face-to-face—Skype didn’t count—and a month since he heard her voice.
Damnit, why didn’t she respond to his letters? He never wrote letters, was lousy at it. But she wouldn’t answer her phone, so he had no alternative.
A soft knock on his apartment door broke his internal bitching. Jesus, he’d only been home twenty minutes. If something had happened with the AutoPay for his rent or something…
I don’t have time for this shit.
He jerked open the door.
Rylie’s dark blue eyes were ringed by shadows and her skin, always pale, looked almost translucent. He pulled her into his arms—and wheezed out a breath when her firm, distended belly hit his abdomen.
He eased back so he could look down at bulky pullover sweater. The bulge was unmistakable.
Pregnant. She was pop-stage pregnant. Why would she go dark on him and not let him know? Why hadn’t she let him know as soon as she found out?
He caught back an oath as a dozen different emotions whipped through him. After a full thirty seconds he managed. “Why the hell haven’t you told me about this, Rylie? Jesus Christ!”
“I didn’t realize I was pregnant until just before you deployed, Eric. I tried to tell you, but every time…by the time I worked up my nerve…you were God knows where, in danger, and I only got to talk to you once a week.” She rested a hand on the bulge. “Then the doctor put me on bed rest for the last month of the pregnancy and I had to move in with my father.”
What could he say to that? What did he know about having a pregnant girlfriend? But bed rest didn’t sound good.
There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that the baby was his. They’d been all over each other since damn near the first time their eyes met. And before he left they spent practically every free minute together for four of the most perfect months of his life.
But they had that one snafu with the condom.
He struggled to control his anger. “Come sit down.” He placed a hand against the small of her back and held her arm as he guided her to the couch. “I just got in about half an hour ago.”
“I can see that.” Her eyes were focused on his thick, coarse beard. “When I was young my father would return from deployment with a beard. It helps you blend in, doesn’t it?”
She never told him her father was military. He thought her dad was a cop. But then a lot of military went into security and applied for police training after they got out. Or was he making excuses for her having kept that from him too?
He guided her to the couch, and while she eased herself down to sit he settled on the coffee table facing her. He tried to keep his eyes on her face, but it was impossible.
He half raised a hand to touch her belly, then pulled back.
He’d never hesitated to touch her before.
He met her eyes. “I called every week, Rylie. Wrote you a letter every week for the past month. Why didn’t you answer and tell me about this?”
“My father, he’s been on my ass constantly. I didn’t want to tell him you’re the father. I didn’t want to drag you into his bullshit. And I didn’t get any letters.”
If she didn’t get them, where the hell were they? If she didn’t get the letters, he was already dragged into her father’s bullshit because he probably had them.
The idea of a man reading the things he said to her made him feel…exposed. He begged her to write him back. Had given her a time to call him back. Jesus. Heat flooded his face. He struggled to keep his tone even. “Did you have your mail forwarded to your father’s address?”
“Yes.” He saw the moment it hit her. She buried her face in her hands for a moment, then shook her head. “I’ve been so stupid.”
“We talked every week until the past month. Tell me why, in all this time, you didn’t say one word about the baby.”
She tucked her long, dark hair behind her ears. “I wanted to tell you, but…you were in a danger zone. You didn’t need the stress of worrying about me and him.
“My father always said that when a man is in a militarized zone, he has to keep his edge. I didn’t want to dent that edge, and if I’d told you, it might have. I wanted to wait till you were home so I could tell you face-to-face.”
She ran a hand over her belly. “That’s why I came as soon as I found out you were back.”
It was a boy. A son. My son. How was he supposed to feel about that? “When are you…?
“I’m due in two weeks, but it may be sooner.”
“Do you want me to be there?”
“Yes. That’s why I’m here.” She looked away, lacing her fingers together and squeezing until her knuckles went white. “If anything happens during the delivery, I want you to be there to take custody of the baby.”
“Done.” He heard the word come out before he even had a moment to think about it. She was carrying his child. His son. Nobody was going to take their son from either of them. His child was never going to be alone, not as long as he was alive.
The tension in Rylie’s body relaxed and she leaned back, but sat back up just as quickly and gripped the leather couch cushion. She rubbed the rounded mound of her stomach and he watched, fascinated.
“If I’d been in the country, Rylie, I’d have been with you on this. Hell, I’d have done anything and everything I could to support you. Anything you wanted or needed me to do.”
“I know that.”
“Then why didn’t you call me this past month? I thought you were blowing me off, and I just couldn’t understand how you could be with me one minute, then cut me completely out of your life the next.”
She closed her eyes, her lower lip trembling, her hands clenched as she took a slow, deep breath. “I haven’t been completely honest with you about some things. I thought I was protecting you, but it seems I couldn’t even do that right.”
“What things, Rylie?”
“I can’t talk about them right now.” She slid forward on the couch to stand and Eric rose to help her. She gripped his hand hard. “I’m in labor Eric, and I need you to take me to the hospital.”
His heart rate rocketed. “You’re in labor now? Right now?”
“Yes. I’ve been having contractions all morning. I thought they’d stop, but they haven’t.”
“Jesus, Rylie! Did you drive?”
“No. I took an Uber.”
How was he supposed to get her to the hospital? On his motorcycle? Not happening. He jerked his phone out of his back pocket and with his thumb keyed in the password and opened his contacts. All the guys were hungover or still drunk. Who the hell could he get? He punched the contact. “Tucker. I have an emergency and we need a ride to the hospital.”
“Shit! What’s happened?”
“It’s Rylie. She’s in labor.”
“Jesus Christ, Viking. I didn’t even know she was pregnant. Where are you?”
“We’re at my apartment. We’ll talk about it later. We need an immediate dustoff—now!”
“I’m on my way. Be there in five.”
His heart was racing and sweat was running down the back of his neck. Rylie squeezed his hand again—hard. What the hell did he know about women and labor? He wasn’t ignorant about the physical parts, but reading about it in a biology text fifteen years ago and observing it firsthand were two totally different things.
“I need you to start timing the contractions, Eric.”
He didn’t have to time them to know they were close together and getting closer. Tucker was only five minutes away, she’d already had two contractions, and Tucker hadn’t arrived yet.
“How long have you been having pains?” he asked.
She was trembling. He put an arm around her and held her against his side, offering comfort.
“Twinges since I got up, but they’re getting harder.”
He had to put aside his fear and keep her calm. “We have plenty of time to get to the hospital. You and the baby are going to be just fine.” He urged her out the apartment door and down the hall to the elevator.
He punched the button several times.
“It isn’t going to make it arrive any sooner.”
Shit. He wished it would. He could carry her down the stairs, no problem, but what if he tripped and fell with her?
The elevator doors opened and he urged her in.
They’d just exited the building when Tucker’s black Jeep wheeled into the parking lot and came to a halt directly in front of them. He leapt out and opened the back door. “Which hospital?”
“Sharp Mary Birch.”
Tucker was already keying in the location on his phone as he leapt back behind the wheel.
She’d been a fool. She should have called Eric. All this time she believed she was protecting him, protecting his career, and it turns out her father probably already knew everything. She’d been so careful.
Damn him! Anger shot her heart rate up. When the pain of the next contraction hit, she squeezed Eric’s hand even harder.
Though he tried to keep the concern out of his expression, the blond hair at his temples was dark with sweat. She felt sorry for him. He was truly a duck out of water. She had eight and a half months to get used to the idea of having a baby. She’d only given him half an hour.
And to his credit, he hadn’t hesitated when she said she needed him to claim the baby. And she wasn’t surprised. He had a strong sense of honor, and this baby would be the family he never had.
He had every right to be angry with her. And before he deployed again, they’d work things out, for the baby’s sake.
But what about their relationship?
If he couldn’t forgive her for all the things she kept from him….
She should have told him first thing about Black Jack.
This past month had stretched into an eternity. Eric wrote her letters. Letters her father probably had. Oh, God! If Black Jack had read them…. How could he do that to her? How could he do that to Eric?
Eric deserved so much better than the way both she and Black Jack had treated him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the baby before you left. I started to several times, and every time something interrupted. Everything between us was so good, I didn’t want to rock the boat. I kept thinking, just a few more days and I’ll tell him. But then you were gone so suddenly. And once you were gone it was weeks before you could call… And by the time you did, I didn’t want you to worry.”
Another contraction hit. It started in her back and worked around her like a charley horse that gripped her entire body. She swallowed the groan and held onto Eric for dear life. She thought she’d be prepared for this when it happened, but she wasn’t.
She should have gone to the hospital when she experienced those first twinges, but she’d been having so many weird aches and pains.
“How many times did you call this past month?” she asked.
“Every week. Different days, different times, but at least once a week.”
“When the doctor told me I had to take off work and couldn’t be alone, I had to move in with my father.” Mostly because her blood pressure had been dangerously high, but Eric didn’t need to know that.
“So he’s been monitoring your calls and your mail,” he said.
“Probably.”
“Jesus, Rylie! You’re a grown woman. What right does he have to do any of that?”
“He doesn’t.” How could Black Jack have done that to her? To them? He left her to face her pregnancy without any emotional support for the past six weeks. Making her worry that something might have happened to Eric. What if she had a medical emergency? What if the baby had one?
And when Eric found out who her father was….
Another contraction hit, nearly bowling her over.
Tucker whipped through the parking lot to the main entrance of the hospital, leaping out of the car as soon as it stopped and opening the door for them.
Eric grasped her hands and urged her out.
“Thanks, man,” Eric bumped knuckles with him.
“Good luck,” Tucker replied, and gave Rylie’s shoulder a quick squeeze.
Eric lifted her in his arms and rushed inside the hospital.