Page 36 of My Three Hometown Firefighters (Aspen Springs #2)
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Sienna
MARCH
I lean back in my office chair with my hand resting on my small bump. I had been putting off getting new clothes for as long as possible.
I don’t know why I was determined to wear my regular clothes still, when most of them were getting uncomfortable, to say the least.
When a package showed up at my door filled with maternity and more comfortable clothes that wouldn’t strangle my growing bump, I was pissed. Grayson just kissed my forehead and told me to deal with it.
After wearing the new jeans for the first time, I reluctantly texted him a thank you because, honestly, I was being an idiot.
At nineteen weeks, my bump has popped. With my petite frame, it happened a little earlier than it does for some women.
I’m not complaining, though, because I actually love it. It’s a little reminder of why going through all of this is worth it, even when I feel like crap.
These last few months have kind of gone by in a blur. Once I got past the first trimester, I started to feel more like myself.
I’m still tired a lot of the time, but at least I don’t feel like puking at every random smell anymore.
It’s been a tricky balance of letting the guys in enough but keeping them at arm’s length to protect all of us. I don’t think I’m doing a very good job.
They’ve all been so willing to help at the drop of a hat with anything big or small.
Warren and Grayson have acted the same as when we were all hooking up, minus the sex part, of course.
They still give me hugs and kisses on the forehead. They’ll sit next to me on the couch or place their hand on the small of my back when I walk in front of them.
Tucker, on the other hand, has completely distanced himself. He’s still helped me at every turn, but I can’t even remember the last time he touched me.
I know it’s intentional. He’s pulling back more and more as time goes on.
I’m worried all of this is getting to be too much for him. One day, I think I’m just going to wake up and he’ll be gone for good. I couldn’t really blame him if it happened either, because this situation is far from normal or functional.
I can’t even bring myself to fully process what it would mean if the baby is his biologically, and it’s too much for him.
And what if he’s not the father?
That question has been floating through my brain the last few days. The thought of losing any of these men makes my heart squeeze tight.
I know I can’t realistically keep all of them to myself when I’m not even in a romantic relationship with any of them. Women are going to come into their lives at some point and give them each everything they want that I can’t.
Knowing all of this doesn’t change the way my poor heart aches at the mere thought of it, though.
With my glum mood in tow, I throw on my winter coat that isn’t going to fit me for much longer. It’s snowed several inches in the last few hours while I’ve been working in my office.
Stepping outside, I come to a halt when I see Grayson brushing the snow from my car.
“You didn’t need to do that,” I say, walking up to my car.
He just shrugs. “I didn’t want you doing it.” He points across the street at Kingston Hardware. “I was over there anyway.”
A million different replies about not needing help flash through my mind, but I tamp down the urge to use any of them.
“Thank you,” I say instead.
His eyes narrow as he studies my face. “What’s wrong?” He steps closer, worry written all over his face. “Are you not feeling okay? Is something wrong with the little one?”
I quickly shake my head. “No, no. I’m feeling fine.”
His head tilts to the side. “Then what’s wrong?”
I don’t know if it’s the hormones or something else, but I just let the words fly. “I’m worried about all of this with Tucker. He’s getting more and more closed off. I’m worried he’s going to just disappear.”
He nods silently. He wraps his arms around me until I’m flush against his chest. I rest my head against the slick fabric of his coat.
Snowflakes flutter down around us as his hand runs up and down my back.
“I’ll talk to him,” he says quietly.
I tilt my head back so I can see him. “You don’t need to do that.”
He lets out a heavy exhale. “I think I might know what’s going on. He’s said enough little things over the years that I’ve pieced together.”
I don’t press him any further because it isn’t his story to tell, if what he thinks is even true.
“Thank you,” I say again.
“Of course.” He shifts his hands to my shoulders, stepping back a little.
“I want you to know that no matter what happens with Tucker or even Warren, I’m not going anywhere.
Even if this baby doesn’t end up being mine.
” He swallows, like the thought makes him sick.
“It isn’t going to change the fact that I care about you, and I’m here. I’ll still be here.”
I swipe at my face, hoping he thinks it’s because of the snowflakes peppering my cheeks and not a rogue tear that escaped my lashes.
How am I supposed to keep my distance from this man when he says things like that?