Pippa
“Go.”
I glare at my sister, who is all but shoving me out the door.
Fletch almost knocked me out of the way to get to Nella when he came barging in. Since I was busy trying to make room for him, I missed Sully stepping inside and ended up standing shoulder to shoulder with him in the process.
A weird energy seemed to zap around the man and the look he threw me when I glanced over was one I didn’t recognize, but it had the hair on my skin stand up. But I didn’t have the heart to move so I’ve been standing here with my back against the wall and Sully by my side for a while.
And now my sister wants me to leave with him.
“I can’t simply leave. What if—”
“Nothing is going to happen. My contractions have slowed down, the baby is doing fine, and you need some rest. You can barely stand straight.”
As soon as she says that, I feel Sully’s hand firmly grab my elbow. I resist the temptation to shrug loose because the truth is, I am feeling a little woozy. It has to be close to dinnertime already and since the two slices of toast and decaf coffee I had for breakfast, I haven’t had anything to eat or drink.
“Sully can drive you home,” Fletch adds with a funny look for his teammate I’m too tired to try and decipher.
“I have my own truck here,” I try in a last-ditch effort.
“Which you’ll likely wreck if you try driving in this state,” Nella snaps. Then she piles on the guilt. “Last thing I need is having to worry about you.”
I make a face at her but she just raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.
“I’ll hold on to your keys, in case I need wheels tonight,” Fletch contributes.
“Fine,” I grumble, all but rolling my eyes when he holds up his hand for my truck keys.
Through all of this, Sully has remained stoic and silent. Something is up with him and it’s making me uneasy.
Still, I don’t object when he maintains a hold on my arm when we walk out of the hospital; I’m not that sure my legs would support me. This day has zapped the energy right out of me. I let him help me into his truck and don’t even protest when he pulls into the Burger Express drive-thru a couple of minutes later.
My mouth waters when I see the menu on the board. It’s been a while since I’ve had a juicy burger. Living with Lucy has dramatically cut down on my takeout habit. She is a phenomenal cook and I can’t complain, but I’ve missed that first taste when you sink your teeth into a good burger.
“Cheeseburger, cheese fries, and a vanilla milkshake,” I respond to Sully’s questioning look in my direction.
I probably won’t be able to eat it all—or I’ll make myself sick trying—but right now my stomach feels like it could handle half a cow.
The smells from the two brown bags Sully dropped on my lap are killing me fifteen minutes later when he drives right past Hart’s Horse Rescue.
“Hey. You missed my turnoff.”
I turn my head to look at him when he doesn’t respond. His eyes are focused on the road ahead and his jaw is set.
“Where are you taking me?”
An answer does not seem to be forthcoming, but I no longer need it when he turns into the High Meadow driveway. He pulls up to the cabin I know is his and turns off the truck. Then he grabs the bags from my lap and gets out, rounding the truck to my side, and opening my door.
I defiantly cross my arms over my chest and glare at him.
“We need to talk,” he finally says. “We’ll have privacy here.”
“You seem to want to talk a lot,” I snap. “But you don’t tend to say a whole lot. If I recall correctly, talking hasn’t provided much clarity between us.”
“That’s rich, having you talk about clarity.”
Sarcasm drips from his voice as he turns his back and heads for the door. Unfortunately, he’s taking my food so I have no choice but to follow him.
Curiosity momentarily trumps annoyance and hunger when I step inside and I stop to take in his space. The cabin is basically one large open living space with a pair of doors on either side. Bedrooms and bathrooms, I’m guessing.
The living room consists of a rustic stone fireplace, a large flat-screen TV hanging over the mantle, and a buckskin leather sectional sitting on a large Persian rug in deep reds and burgundies. No coffee table, no side tables, and the only light fixture in that area is a modern, brushed-nickel standing lamp by one side of the sectional, but the rug is a surprise.
Very minimalistic, very Marie Kondo, although I suspect she’d pooh-pooh both the sectional—which I see has cupholders—and the massive TV. She’d approve of the rest though. The kitchen has an L-shape and runs along part of the back wall, with the sink centered under a large window with a pretty view. It’s a man’s kitchen, sleek and uncluttered with upgraded appliances. I get the sense it isn’t used much.
Sully has dropped the food on the island, which is basically open metal shelving underneath a stainless-steel counter, and is pulling a couple of slate gray plates from one of the cupboards.
The only clutter is a stack of mail, a few newspapers, and a thick hardcover book covering part of the simple rectangular dining table which separates the kitchen from the living space. The modern upholstered bucket chairs match the two stools that flank the island.
Despite the cool steel and sparse furnishings, this space is surprisingly warm and inviting. Not at all what I would’ve associated with Sully. The TV and couch are maybe the only two things that fit my impression of the man. I don’t know about who that reveals more; Sully, with more layers and depth than I’ve given him credit for, or me, definitely short-sighted and judgmental, and shallower than I care to admit.
“You gonna stand there all night or are you gonna come eat?”
Eat, I guess. I slowly make my way over to where he’s waiting by the island, his expression still strangely impassive. I’m hungry but also a little nervous about that talk he wants to have. The outcome seems inevitable.
I just hope I don’t puke all over his immaculate kitchen.
Sully
I have gone through a whole range of emotions in the past few hours.
Heck, this entire day has been a fucking roller coaster from the moment I woke up. I’m wired, on edge, barely able to keep it all inside, and I’m afraid if I don’t let up on this pressure soon, I’ll explode.
I’m starting to second-guess if bringing Pippa back to my place was a good idea.
Hanging on to my temper, I keep my hands busy setting out the food. When I finally turn around and see her standing in my space, instead of anger, I feel something else settle over me.
A shift, almost like a realignment of balance.
I’m still pissed, still confused, but I don’t feel like I’m coming apart at the seams anymore.
“How far along are you?” I bring myself to ask first.
Better make sure I have my facts straight before I start flinging accusations.
Her eyes flit my way and she reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Then she turns her focus on the wrapped food on her plate and methodically starts unwrapping it.
“I’m due October seventh,” she says right before she takes a big bite of her burger.
It’s evasive, both her response and the mouthful of food preventing her from saying any more.
“That means you’re halfway there.”
“Hmmm,” she hums around the bite, not exactly helping.
I take a bite of my own, chew a few times, and then swallow the large, barely masticated lump, no longer able to hold back the accusation.
“You should’ve told me,” I whisper.
She has a visible physical response with a slight jerk of her shoulders, so I know she heard me. Then she turns to look at me, her eyes weary.
“I only just found out.”
“Bullshit,” I counter. “You’ve known long enough for Lucy to have it figured out. That’s what she was talking about the other night in the barn, wasn’t it? Telling me about the baby?”
That thought had come to me sometime this afternoon when I was mentally backtracking the past months.
“Lucy knows, I’m sure your sister knows, although I’m surprised Fletch doesn’t. He’d have floored me already otherwise. Why the fuck am I the last to find out?”
Suddenly not hungry anymore, I shove my plate away. A little too forcefully, as it slides across the smooth counter and shatters on the floor on the other side. The loud crash is startling, causing Pippa to jump off her stool and take a few steps back. The shocked look on her face is like a punch in the stomach.
“Shit. That wasn’t intentional,” I rush to say. “Sorry.”
I move to the other side and duck down to pick up the pieces of the shattered glass and the remnants of my takeout.
Christ. I scared her. I didn’t mean to, but I know I fucking did. That look on her face… Add guilt to the cocktail of feelings I can’t really get a grip on.
Tossing the shards of china in the garbage, I turn around to see Pippa has taken a seat on the couch, while keeping an eye on me. I wash my hands and grab her plate.
“You should eat some more.”
I hand her the plate and she gives me a shaky smile.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat, leaving a bit of distance when I take a seat.
“It’s okay.” She shakes her head. “I should be the one apologizing. It’s just…I’m still trying to wrap my head around this.”
Like it’s the most natural thing in the world, her hands automatically land on the swell of her stomach. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before, and now it’s all I can see. A fucking baby.
“For the record,” she continues. “My sister knows I’m pregnant, but I haven’t told her you’re the father.”
I abruptly lean forward, my head between my knees, waiting for the wave of sudden light-headedness to pass.
You’re the father.
Words I never thought I’d hear in this lifetime. Holy shit.
“And Lucy made a lucky guess.”
“How?” I finally manage, croaking like I recently woke up. I raise my head and look at her. “I mean, we’d both been drinking but I remember using a condom. Are you sure it’s mine?”
Dammit, I know how fucking awful that sounds the moment it leaves my mouth, but I wanted to look her in the eye and know for sure.
“Without a single second of doubt,” she says, the hurt evident in her voice and the way she looks back.
I know she’s telling the truth.
It’s like hearing the door slam and the key turning in the lock. Any hope of escape doused.
Time to man up.
Looks like I’m going to be a father.
I run a hand over my face. “Okay. All right.” My mind is going a mile a minute, thoughts bouncing around like pinballs. “We’ll go pick up your things tomorrow. I’ll have to call my insurance company to figure out how to get you onto my policy. I can take the spare bedroom, and I’ll clean out my office for the baby. Then maybe—”
I know I’m running at the mouth when I catch the incredulous expression on Pippa’s face.
“Hang on there for a minute now, cowboy,” she says, holding up a hand to silence me. “I’m not sure what you think is happening here, but I’m pretty sure I haven’t agreed to any of what you just spouted.”
Too much, too fast. Jesus, I’m out of my depth.
I get up and go grab a beer from the fridge. I’m about to ask what she wants when I spot her milkshake still sitting on the island. I pick that up too and return to the couch, handing it to her before I sit again. Taking a swig of my beer, I force myself to calm down. Otherwise, I stand to lose more ground than I was hoping to gain.
“Fair enough. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact you…we…are having a baby. I want to do the right thing.”
Her expression softens slightly. “I’m not asking anything of you. You can walk away from this but you have to understand that’s not an option for me. So I’m sorry if this doesn’t work for you, but I will not let you make decisions about my life or my body.”
I take another drink. This one for fortification. Then I set my bottle on the table and lean forward, my forearms resting on my knees as I hold her gaze.
“I’m not looking to run away or to run your life. I’m not sure where all of that came from or where this is going, but what I do know is that I want to be part of it.”
She appears to straighten her shoulders and defiantly lifts her chin.
“Are you sure you’re not going to turn around and declare this baby a big mistake too?”
I guess I deserve that. If I didn’t already regret those remarks made to her after waking up from a particularly gruesome nightmare in the early morning hours months ago—I sure do now.
“I won’t. I swear I won’t.”
She stares me down for a good long time before finally nodding her head and relaxing her shoulders.
“Okay.”
It’s a little thin but I’ll take it.
“I know about breeding horses; I know next to nothing about pregnant women. Can you get me up to speed so I don’t fuck up again?”
The faint smile pulling at her lips means everything.