Page 32 of No Knight (My Kind of Hero #3)

Matt

Tell me something. But maybe not that.

I slump back in my seat, my hands falling away.

Then rubbing at my chin. Pressed across my mouth.

I glance away, down the length of the room to the windows, and watch as the lights turn clinging raindrops the colors of Smarties.

A couple seated there plays footsie as the bartender pulls a pint.

The door opens, and someone leaves. Someone else walks in.

Ordinary actions, ordinary lives that are unchanged by the moment before. Meanwhile, as my world is ...

Holy fuck!

Exploding? Imploding?

“I’m sorry,” I say, turning back to Ryan’s lovely face. “But can you say that again?”

“Sure, it’s not like it’ll undo anything.” She sniffs, her words watery and jerking. “Matt, I’m pregnant.” She sniffs again and, after reaching for her purse, begins to rifle through it. “Where is a stupid Kleenex when you need one.”

I reach for the cocktail napkin that came with my drink. “Here.”

“Thanks,” she murmurs without lifting her eyes. She dabs at them, then her nose, which seems to have turned red. Under other circumstances, I’m pretty sure I’d be in bits about this—about her tears, I mean. But right now, I can’t seem to feel anything.

“We used condoms.”

“I’m aware.” Her sharp glance seems almost weaponized. “I was there too.”

“Sorry. Stupid thing to say.” I frown, but before I know it, my mouth is off again. “That night, when you slipped off your dress, I could literally feel the IQ points falling off me. Fuck,” I mutter. “I know this isn’t the same, but I think I might be just as dumb for a while.”

“Okay.” She twists the napkin between her fingers.

“Pregnant,” I say as though trying the word out. “Fuck me. When did you ...”

“I took a test yesterday afternoon. After I left. After I was ill. It was mostly to rule out the distant possibility,” she adds with a really unhappy laugh.

“I’ve been feeling a little off. Mostly, things I like haven’t tasted right.

My sense of smell has been ... well, elevated, I guess.

I just thought London smelled weird. Bad enough to gag a maggot sometimes. ” She gives in to a harsh shiver.

Gag a maggot? Given the circumstances, I temper my smile.

“I didn’t think for one minute the test would be positive.”

“I’m kind of glad it wasn’t the sight of me that made you sick.” Despite the tangle of my thoughts, my lips tug upward.

“That was shock. Maybe.”

“Are you okay? I mean, isn’t yesterday a bit late to find out?” I’m thinking specifically of Letty’s pregnancy. A couple of my cousins’ too.

“I’m sorry my reproductive system hasn’t adhered to best practices,” she retorts, that tentative ease between us popping like a pin in a balloon.

“But I have just moved across the Atlantic. I’ve been a bit occupied.

” She presses the tissue to her nose again.

“My schedule has been pretty hectic. Life has been new and exciting but stressful.”

“Right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Stop saying that.”

“What?”

“That you’re sorry. Even if you are.”

“Okay, right.”

“Now I’ve told you,” she says, turning her attention to her purse. “And now I’m going to leave.”

“What? Wait—what do you mean you’re gonna leave? You can’t just ... leave!”

“I’m not asking you for anything,” she mutters, beginning to shuffle her bum across the seat.

“Please stay.” I reach out, laying my hand on her arm.

She halts. Turns, blinking rapidly as though digesting my words.

“I’m sorry that I don’t know what to say.”

“Welcome to the club.” She glances away. But at least she’s not trying to get away as she relaxes her grip on her purse.

“How many weeks along . . .”

“Maybe ten.” She pauses, her eyes not moving from my face. “You know there’s no way I’d be telling you this if there was a chance some other man was responsible, right?” Her delivery is, well, challenging.

“Understood.”

“But I guess you’ve only got my word for it right now.”

“Your word is enough, Ryan.”

She gives a breath that seems to lower her shoulders. “I guess I’ll need to see a doctor to be sure of the exact timeline,” she says, softer now. “I don’t know much about pregnancy.”

“Me either.” I find myself wondering exactly how effective home pregnancy tests are as I swallow over the large ball of words lodged in my throat.

How the fuck? What the fuck? When the ..

. well, maybe not when. “Does that mean you’re .

..” I rub a finger along my nose as my gaze inadvertently dips to her flat stomach. “That you want to keep it?”

“Yeah.” She gives a firm nod. “Yeah, I do.”

That feels ... not wrong. I mean, it’s terrifying, but also—

I snap back to the moment when I realize Ryan is still speaking.

“... it’s kind of crazy, and all kinds of frightening, but I’ll cash in some of my investments when I get back to the States. Get a house or an apartment, depending on where I decide to set up home. We’ll be okay.”

“Wait.” I hold up my hand. “Rewind a bit? Say that again ... would you?”

“When I get back to the States?”

“Yes. Yeah. You’re going back?” Ice drops into my chest, cooling a tentative warmth. Huh. “But why?”

“Rewind further?” Her brow quirks. “I got let go this morning. Fired, to be more precise.”

“Shit.” But she can’t go back—not when I’ve just found her.

She clears her throat a little. “That about covers it.”

“What for? I mean, what reason did they give?”

“Performance issues, which is bullshit. I hadn’t been there long enough to make a difference either way.”

My heart sinks. Could I be responsible for this after yesterday? The meeting was something I actioned, and Fin said the whole thing went pretty much tits up after ... yeah, that . After we left.

“But the market is kinda volatile at the moment,” Ryan carries on, unaware of my disquiet.

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you the market dictates everything in this business.

But I don’t know,” she adds, her tone weary.

“Maybe I didn’t make a difference fast enough.

Maybe my face didn’t fit. Maybe they decided someone’s nephew could do the job. ”

“Yeah, that happens.”

“All this to say I really don’t know. Not that it matters. I was within my probation period, so it is what it is.”

“You’re taking this very calmly.”

“I know.” Her mouth tips humorously. “My life is about to implode—might as well push the nuclear button.”

“Is that why—” I halt, not sure I want the answer. Not sure I have a right to the question either.

“Why I’m going ahead with things?”

Things. Pregnancy. Parenthood. Life-altering decisions.

“I’m not judging,” I add quickly. “I just remember your career means a lot to you.”

She pauses before answering. And when she does, it’s without an ounce of hostility.

“The short answer is no.” Another pause as I watch thoughts flicker to life on her face before fading away.

“I guess I just knew. The minute shock wore off, at least. Maybe it’s my age.

” She gives a quick smile, and I bite my tongue to keep from asking. “I’m thirty-five,” she says anyway.

“I didn’t ask.”

“Maybe not verbally. You?” She allows her gaze to flit over me. I like how it feels.

“I’m thirty-eight.”

Her brows lift.

“Good genes,” I say with a grin.

“Do you really come from a big family?” Her question is tentative, like she doesn’t want to give too much away. She remembers what I said.

“Yeah, I do.” My reply is kind of expansive as I lean back against the booth. “I didn’t tell you lies that night. Well, with the exception of ...”

“What you do for a living,” she whispers.

“My family is huge,” I put in quickly. God knows how this news will go down with them. It’ll give them something to yak about, for sure. Something to worry about. Something to bend my ear over. “I have three sisters and two brothers. All younger than me.”

“That must be nice,” she answers quietly. Softly.

“It’s grand. Sometimes. And other times, not so much.”

“I don’t. Have a family, that is.” Her gaze falls to her cup, and she looks about to pick it up before changing her mind. She pushes it away.

“Should I get you a refill?”

She refuses with a shake of her head. “But thanks.”

“No family at all?” I begin again.

Another headshake.

“There’s just you?”

“Just me left. But there was only ever me and my mom growing up.”

“I can’t imagine that.”

“I wouldn’t bother.” Her chin lifts. In defiance? “It wasn’t the easiest of childhoods, which I know now wasn’t my fault.”

Knows now ? Something from the depths of my own upbringing flares to life in my head.

Children of God are without blemish. My parents were very unimpressed when, aged eight, I’d plucked this Sunday school learning out of my brain.

They also weren’t convinced it was adequate reason for the hole in their new TV.

It’s been upcast plenty in family lore, but I didn’t spend my childhood suffering for it.

I don’t know what to say, except to point out the obvious—that I’m sorry, that it’s shit. But she’s rebuffed me already. So I reach out and put my hand over hers.

“I never knew my dad.” Her smile says Fuck your pity .

But Jesus—I think I get it. She was leaving because that’s what she knows.

And she was leaving first because that’s what she assumed I would do.

Like history repeating itself. “I always thought I’d have a family.

Before, you know.” Her eyes dart away. She means with him, the bastard who dumped her and turned her life upside down.

“And while this feels crazy, it also feels right. It’s not like this”—her words trail off as her hand drops to her stomach—“has willed itself into existence.”

“No, I get that.”

“But you don’t have to worry,” she says, looking up at me. “I take full responsibility. I don’t need you to step up.”

“Fuck that.” My hand tightens on hers, my voice low and vehement. These are my feelings, and they have nothing to do with her childhood, her past. “I want to be part of this. Don’t shut me out.”

“I didn’t—” She swallows thickly. Sets her shoulders. Composes herself. “I just meant I’m not out to trap you. That I get this is my decision.”

“I want to be part of this.”

“But I’m going back to the States. Monday.”

Something like panic bolts through me.

“Though I get the impression Theta would’ve preferred to get me on a flight before then.”

“Can they do that?”

“I agreed to it. Signed the paperwork and everything. I guess I wasn’t processing information too well.

Maybe because I spent more time than I care to remember curled over a toilet bowl this morning.

Then I was called into the office and blindsided.

But I don’t really have any choice. My visa is dependent on my employment, and I’m living in accommodations on the company dime.

I’d just signed a lease on a new apartment, and they said they’d cover any penalties. ”

“I should fucking think so.”

“They’re also paying me to the end of my probation period. It seemed like there was little point fighting it.”

“It sounds to me like they’re trying to get rid of you with undue haste.”

“It doesn’t matter, not in the bigger picture. Women who have babies, kids, they don’t thrive on the trading floor. Each requires too much commitment. Can’t be in two places at once.”

“But it should be your choice, not theirs. This is wrong, Ryan. Don’t stand for it.” Because I fucking well won’t.

She drops her head quite suddenly, beginning to gulp in air.

“Ah, darlin’.” She doesn’t flinch when I put my hand to her back.

“This is all so, so fucked up.” She begins to cry, quiet hiccuping sobs, and my heart twists as I pull her in to my chest. “I’m sorry for the waterworks,” she says, her words all snuffling and wet. “I’m usually more ...”

I crook her chin and dip my own, bringing my gaze level with hers. “Aloof?”

“Stoic.”

“Tears are just a valve, you know.” I use my thumb to swipe one from her cheek, amazed when she lets me. “They aren’t a weakness. Everyone needs to let off steam sometime.”

“I’ve gotta be all out of steam by now. This morning, after you left, I was so upset. I didn’t know if I should tell you or not. Would you blame me? Think I was after money?”

“There now,” I croon as her words echo in my chest. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I didn’t know what to think, what you’d think. I couldn’t use the elevator in the state I was in, so I took the steps and, halfway up, dropped to one like I was winded.”

Something squeezes my heart. To think that under that cool exterior was all this worry and pain.

“I pressed my head between my knees,” she says, lifting her watery eyes to mine, “and sobbed and sobbed as the cold from the concrete penetrated my pants, freezing my ass.”

“That’s how you get piles.”

“What?”

That ache turns to a pinch as Ryan pulls away, all red nosed and flushed.

I just want to pull her back. Keep her there.

“It’s what my granny used to say if she’d catch us sitting on cold pavement or a wall.

‘You’ll get piles!’” What the fuck am I saying?

I guess it’s better than I know something else that’d like to penetrate your ass .

“I’ll ... bear that in mind,” she says, her words creeping higher in pitch.

“Although you might get them now anyway.” Ah, Jaysus. Move over, Casanova.

“What the hell, Matt!” This comes out in a shocked but watery laugh.

“I know. What the fuck.”

“More like, How would you know?”

“Because sadly, my family doesn’t believe in boundaries.” My expression twists. “You can blame my sister, Leticia, for oversharing. That’s Clodagh’s mother.”

“Well, it’s something to look forward to, I guess.” Her brows pinch with consternation.

“I reckon Letty is a bigger pain in the arse than hemorrhoids,” I mutter.

“What will they think about this?” Her eyes flick warily my way. “About you becoming a dad.”

There’s something about that word that tugs at a place deep inside me. “A dad. I’m about to become a dad.” I slide my hand through my hair. “How fucking amazing is that?”

“I guess it won’t matter what they think,” she says softly as she presses her hand to my chest. Over my heart. “We’re really doing this?”

“Yeah,” I say, covering her hand with mine. “We really are.”