Page 42 of Call Me Yours (Lodestar Ranch #4)

CHLOE

Gabe

Chloe? Is everything ok?

Chloe

You’re alive?? JFC, Gabe. You scared me.

Gabe

I’m fine. Better than fine. It’s a long story. What’s with the crazy texts?

Chloe

Right. We need to talk.

Gabe

Like on the phone?

Chloe

Unless you’re going to be in Aspen Springs anytime soon, yes.

Gabe

Give me an hour. I’ll call you.

The hazy, lazy week between Christmas and New Years was my favorite.

No social events, no work, no rules. I spent the afternoons sprawled on the couch with a plate of cookies and apple slices balanced on my increasingly pronounced baby bump, a book open but mostly unread next to me, a crackling fire in the fireplace because Steven knew I loved a good fire, wearing nothing but a soft sports bra and itty bitty sleeping shorts because baby plus fire meant I was too hot. Bliss .

Gabe’s texts popping up on one such afternoon felt entirely surreal. I considered putting on proper clothes for the very adult conversation we were about to have, but then decided against it. It wasn’t like he could see me over the phone. Anyway, my skin felt too itchy for clothes.

He called an hour later exactly like he said he would, which only surprised me because Gabe had never been known for being punctual.

“Chloe? Are you okay?” he asked straight off when I picked up, concern evident in his voice.

It was a reminder that Gabe wasn’t a bad guy. He might not be the love of my life—scratch that, he definitely was not—but we’d had some good times together. There were worse people to co-parent with.

“I’m good,” I said, and meant it. “Better than good, actually. I’m pregnant.”

There was a brief pause, and then “Oh, shit. Listen, I’m happy for you. Really. You don’t have to worry about me. Whoever the guy is, I’m happy for him, too. You and me, we were never officially together, so you don’t have to officially break up with me. I get it. In fact?—”

It took me a stupidly long moment to realize he didn’t understand what I was telling him. “No, Gabe. You’re the dad,” I broke in.

This time the silence was longer. I let him have it. After all, I had been throwing up for a solid week before I came to terms with the fact that I was pregnant.

“Chloe. Shit,” he muttered. I could hear the sound of muffled voices around him, a door being shut, and then more silence. “Are you sure?”

“Very sure,” I said. “You were the only one I had sex with. Assuming it’s not immaculate conception, the baby is yours.”

“Chloe, I—” He exhaled heavily. “Are you keeping it?”

I blinked down at my round stomach. “Well…yeah. I mean, you know I’m twenty-two weeks pregnant, right? The decision-making part is past.”

“Sorry, I’m just so surprised. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I’m okay. I mean, I don’t need anything from you. You’re the father, and I want you to be involved for the baby’s sake, but I know this wasn’t the plan for either of us. I made my choice, and now you can make yours.”

Another pause. “I need to think about this.”

My stomach sank a little, but only a little. Did I want Radish to know his dad? Of course. But families came in all different sizes and shapes. We would be fine either way. “Sure. I understand.”

Gabe blew out a breath. “The thing is, Chloe, I met someone.”

“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “I don’t want to marry you, Gabe. In case I wasn’t clear on that. I’m actually…I met someone, too.”

“I mean, I met someone here. In Argentina. Cordoba, actually. I crashed my bike and ended up in a hospital here. She’s a nurse. You’d like her, actually. She’s really sarcastic, but—” He babbled on a bit before I could get a word in.

“Gabe. Are you saying you’re staying in Argentina?” I asked.

“Well…yeah. I’m staying.”

“Huh,” I said. That wasn’t something I’d considered at all in the hundreds of times I’d imagined this conversation.

“When are you…when are you due?” he asked hesitantly.

“In early May,” I told him.

“Oh. That’s really soon,” he said, sounding surprised.

“Well, it takes nine months to grow a baby, and it’s been five months since we had sex. That’s how math works,” I said.

He laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m still in shock.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

There was another silence while we both considered our next words.

He cleared his throat. “Is it all or nothing? I mean…could I send cards, come and visit when I can, do video calls?”

I thought it over. What would Radish want from his dad? What would he need from his dad? I knew the stereotypes of kids who grew up with an absentee father, or worse, a father who bounced in and out and broke promises. But stereotypes were not guarantees. Wasn’t it better to try?

“It doesn’t have to be all or nothing,” I said finally. “Text me your address and email. I’ll send you the sonogram photos.”

“Thanks. I’d like that,” he said.

My phone dinged with his text. “Got it,” I said.

After a few more minutes of updates, we hung up. I stared into space for a long time, my hands wrapped protectively over my belly.

That wasn’t how I had wanted the conversation to go, but it was what it was. More than anything, I wanted Radish to be healthy, happy, and loved. And that was exactly what he was.

What a lucky kid.

We were going to be just fine.

“Whatcha doing, princess? Sleeping?” Steven asked, coming in from outside. He kicked off his boots, tugged off his gloves, and added another log to the fireplace. The fire roared back to life.

I blinked my eyes open and stretched, smiling at him. “Not sleeping. Daydreaming.”

“Yeah?” He came closer. “Can I dream with you?”

“Always.”

He chuckled softly. “Careful, princess. I might take you at your word.”

Maybe I want you to take me at my word. Maybe I want always.

Maybe the baby hormones had eaten my brain.

Steven scootched in behind me so we were sitting my back to his chest. He reclined against the armrest with me snuggled between his thighs. “This good?” he murmured against my temple.

“Mm,” I agreed. “Can you hand me the body butter? It’s on the end table behind you.”

“Feeling itchy again?” he asked.

I felt him move behind me, then settle back in. When I heard the lid being unscrewed, I craned my neck to look at him. “What?—”

“I’ve got it. Just relax.”

I wiggled deeper into his body. “Okay.”

He scooped out a palmful and gave it an appreciative sniff. “I don’t know which I like more. Your strawberry hair or your cookie batter stomach.”

“It’s the cocoa and shea butters. That’s what makes it smell so good.

” I made a sound of pure pleasure as he worked the cream into my parched belly.

Colorado air was always dry, but it was especially brutal in winter.

Add in all the stretching to accommodate a growing baby, and my skin was constantly dehydrated and uncomfortable.

Behind me, Steven’s shoulders shook with laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“Remember that first dinner at your parents’ house, and you accused me of buttering you up so you wouldn’t tell your dad I was the world’s biggest asshole?

” His shoulders shook some more. “And I said I didn’t know you could be buttered.

Now here we are, snuggled up on the couch, and I’m literally buttering you. ”

I smiled down at his big, strong hands on my round belly. My eyes went misty. God, I loved this man so much. “Who would have thought?”

He snorted. “Not you. That’s for damn sure.” His hands moved in slow, thorough circles.

“So, guess what?” I didn’t wait for him to reply before immediately answering my own question. “Gabe finally surfaced. I talked to him about an hour ago.”

His hands stilled and his body stiffened behind me. “You did? That’s…that’s good.”

I tilted my head to look back at him. “Why do you say that like it’s opposite day?”

“Because I’m jealous, Chloe.” He nudged at my cheek with his shoulder, trying to get me to turn back around. “Don’t look at me right now. Pretend I’m a good person.”

I rolled my eyes but settled against him again. “You are a good person, Steven. Tell me you’re not actually worried about a guy I was never really with to begin with.”

“Family is a powerful motivator,” he said. “I wouldn’t blame you if you decided you owed it to Radish to see if you could make it work with his dad.”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Gabe is staying in Argentina. He met a nurse there.” I shook my head. I still couldn’t entirely believe it.

“You told him about Radish? That he has a baby here in Colorado?” Steven asked.

“Of course I did,” I said. Steven’s hips tilted, briefly dislodging me, as he fished his phone out of his front jeans pocket. “What are you doing?”

“Looking up flights to Argentina so I can kick some deadbeat ass.”

“Be serious.”

“I am serious. Radish deserves better than this. You deserve better than this.”

“Steven.” Exasperated, I took his phone away. When he reached for it, I slid it across the floor. “We have better than this. We have you.”

He gripped my chin and forced my face back to look at him. “Say that again,” he said quietly.

I swallowed hard at the emotion I saw in his eyes. “We have you.”

“Damn right you do.”

He lowered his head and kissed me slow and deep. I whimpered into his mouth as his tongue rubbed mine. When he pulled back, I stared up at him, dazed. The corner of his mouth crooked up as he studied me. Then he reached for the body butter again.

“I’m not done buttering you up, princess.”

He drew a circle around my belly button, then rubbed the butter in with his palms. I leaned back against him with a happy sigh, my hands folded between in the valley between my breasts and bump.

“What were you dreaming about?” he asked.

“Hmm?”

“When I came first came in. You said you were daydreaming. What were you dreaming about?”

I laughed lightly. “Oh, you know. Baby things. Planting peonies so we can enjoy them on the porch. Introducing Radish to his uncles and grandparents.” My voice got softer when I said, “You teaching him how to ride.”

“I dream of that, too.” His hands moved to mine, separating them from each other, massaging the leftover butter into my skin with tender care. “You want to know what else I dream of?”

“Yes,” I said.

He hooked his pinky around my left ring finger like a wedding band. “This,” he said huskily.

I stared down at our linked hands. My heart pounded like a winged bird against my ribs. “You want to marry me?” I asked, stupefied.

“More than anything in this whole wide world, princess.”

“Steven,” I whispered.

“This isn’t a real proposal, but that’s coming soon.

I don’t even have a ring because I had no idea if I should get one that fits you now or two months from now or a year from now.

But yes, I want to marry you. I can’t imagine a better way to spend the rest of my life than loving, honoring, and cherishing you. ”

Tears blurred my vision. “Are you sure? Even if I can’t have another child with you?”

He touched his forehead to my temple. “You’re having this one with me. The three of us, we all belong to each other. How could that not be enough? You and Radish are my whole world.”

“Steven.” My voice trembled. “Ye?—”

He smashed his mouth to mine. “Don’t answer now. Save it for the real thing.”

I broke away, laughing. “Steven McAllister, you are the real thing.”

And I got to call him mine. Forever.