Page 37

“It’s not a cute look,” I say, my voice embarrassingly breathy. “I’m getting more stretch marks, and I look like a can of biscuits after you crack it open in these jeans.”

My breath hitches when his entire hand engulfs my stomach, moving upward, stopping just before he hits anything interesting.

“I like the bump,” he says, and it sounds like a scrape of sandpaper.

“Really?”

He shakes his head. “No, that’s a lie. I love it.” His mouth moves closer, right next to my ear. “I like knowing my baby is growing inside you. I like knowing I did it. It makes me feel oddly…possessive.”

“Oh,” I gasp.

“Does that bother you?” he asks, again right in my ear, so close I can feel the heat of his breath, the brush of his lips.

“No.”

He smiles then, and even though I can’t see it, only feel it against the shell of my ear, I know it’s wicked. He’s so close that I wonder if he can feel my heart race, thumping wildly in my chest.

How the hell did we end up here? In the coat closet at his parents’ house, having this conversation?

“Elsie baby,” he says, sounding a little desperate and a lot wild.

My heart somehow ratchets up incredibly faster. “Yes?”

“Can I—”

I don’t get to hear what he’s going to say because the door to the closet is yanked open, and there is Cooper, grinning at us maniacally.

“Hello, brother.”

Beau groans against the side of my head, and with a palpable reluctance, slips his hand out from beneath my shirt.

“Elsie, you’re looking well,” Cooper says, leaning on the doorframe. “Rather flushed.”

“Shut up, Cooper,” Beau says.

“And you’re looking pretty har—”

“How have things been with you, Coop?” I interrupt, trying to will the blush from my face.

“Oh, things have been good,” he says, grinning at me. “Not as good as the two of you seem to be, of course.”

“Coop, did you find them?” Lottie, Beau and Cooper’s mom, yells down the hall.

Cooper holds our gazes for a long moment, drawing out the tension, a smirk playing at his lips. Finally, he answers, “Yeah, they forgot something in the truck. Just walked back in.”

I heave out a sigh of relief.

“Come on, you two,” Cooper says before spinning on his heel and heading down the hall toward the massive living room.

Beau spares me another look. “Still nervous?”

Yes, but I feel better too. Squaring my shoulders, I say, “I’m good. Let’s go.”

To my surprise, he wraps his hand around mine and lifts it to his lips, pressing a kiss on the back of it before leading me down the hall. When we finally make it into the living room, the center of all the chaos and noise, I can still feel the echo of his kiss on my skin.

Clint notices us first, his face lighting up when he sees me, and he makes his way across the living room on long legs, eating up the distance between us.

“Elsie,” he says, just as he wraps his arms around me in a hug. “I’m glad you’re home.”

It’s an echo of what his daughter said, and it makes my throat and heart squeeze in tandem.

“Me too,” I murmur into his chest.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he whispers and pulls back. “No more staying away.”

I swallow against the lump in my throat. “I won’t,” I say, and it’s true. Now that I’m back here, in this place with these people, I don’t think I’d have the strength to distance myself again.

The next few minutes are a swarm of hugs and well wishes, ending with Lottie. She was the one I was most worried about. She’s fierce and loyal and protective, and I hurt her baby. But to my surprise, she doesn’t seem to hold it against me.

She even hugs me, something I can count on one hand the amount of times it’s happened before. And when she does, she whispers “welcome back, Elsie” in my ear in a way that makes me feel the uncharacteristic need to blink back tears.

I don’t know who I’m becoming, but I don’t think I hate it.

When we finally settle at the table, it’s with Cash in my lap, Jade on one side of me, and Beau on the other, his thigh pressed against mine beneath the table.

It all feels so, so right in a way I can’t comprehend.

In some ways, it feels as though I never left.

In others, like I’ve been gone for much too long.

Ruby is missing her two front teeth. Cash plays T-ball.

Cooper bought a new truck. The Dawsons booked a Caribbean cruise.

Ryder has a “girlfriend” at preschool. Cheyenne got a job waiting tables at a new restaurant that just opened in town.

It’s overwhelming in the best way possible, and I don’t know how I went so long without these people. Without my family.

“Anything new with you guys?” Lottie asks, looking at Beau and me.

I catch his eye, and he nods at me, a small smile playing on his lips. We had a plan of how to tell them—after dinner, when we all sat around the living room with drinks and plates full of summer berry pie.

But the news is bursting inside me, fizzing on the energy of this evening, of being surrounded by the first people to teach me what unconditional love is. And I want them to know now . To share in the excitement with us.

“We’re having a girl.”

“When can we throw you a baby shower?” Cheyenne asks after dinner. Beau finally managed to wrench her hand away from my stomach before disappearing somewhere with Cooper.

I glance at Jade, wondering if she mentioned it to them, but she gives me a small shake of her head before going back to braiding Ruby’s hair.

“I, um,” I stumble over my words, overwhelmed. “I wasn’t expecting one.”

Lottie gives me a hard look. “You can’t expect to buy everything on your own. You either tell us what you want and let us buy it for you, or you’re going to end up with a bunch of stuff you didn’t pick out, understand?”

My lips roll together to hold back my smile, and I nod. “Okay.”

They dive into plans for a baby shower, all the women present throwing out ideas, and I listen, overwhelmed. Emotion clogs my throat as they volley ideas back and forth—themes, days, times, guest lists—until I finally feel overwhelmed by it, by their forgiveness and acceptance and love .

“I’ll be right back,” I say to the group, who barely spares me a glance as I leave the living room in search of fresh air. I need a minute alone and the sun on my skin, so I head for the back porch, detouring through the mudroom.

I stop in my tracks when I hear voices through the open Dutch door. It’s Beau and Cooper, beers in hand, leaning against the porch rail, eyes fixed on the horizon.

“I was wrong about her,” Cooper says.

Beau casts him a look before turning back to the mountains, the land that is as much a part of this family as the people in it.

“She’s not herself anymore. She’s withdrawn.” He pauses. “Hurting. I thought she broke you, but she was broken herself.”

Beau shakes his head, staring down at his feet.

There’s a tense set to his shoulders, and I want to smooth it away.

I want to reach for him, but my legs stay locked in place, waiting for his response.

My throat is thick, my heart beating so loudly I’m surprised they can’t hear it.

I’m immobile, desperate to hear his reply.

“I should have seen it,” Beau says.

My heart cracks in two at how broken he sounds.

“I should have loved her better. I should have seen how broken she was, how much she needed me, but I thought she was…” he trails off.

“I don’t know what I thought. I thought she didn’t need me, that she didn’t need anyone.

And I was such an idiot to back off and give her space when she needed me to push her to let me in.

It’s been destroying me, Coop, knowing that I couldn’t be there for her the way she needed. ”

Tears sting my cheeks, falling in fat drops that land on my shirt, and my feet finally start moving, backing away from the door before either of them can see me. I stumble through the house and into the closest bathroom, everything a blur behind my misty eyes.

When I finally manage to lock the door behind me, sobs rack my frame. Guilt, hot and deep, stabs through me.

What have I done?

The thought goes around and around in my head. All this time, I held back, thinking I was protecting him, but I was only hurting him more. Destroying him. Breaking him in the way I was broken.

It makes nausea roil in my gut, but I tamp it down.

Warm tears streak down my cheeks, and I don’t bother to wipe them away.

For the first time, I let the years’ worth of hurt and guilt and shame wash over me.

I allow myself to feel them all, because today is going to be the last day.

Today is the last day I hurt others because I’m hurting.

I’m done breaking the people I love because I’m broken.

I stay in the bathroom until my tears dry up, until I feel lighter than I have in months. Until I feel stable enough to push up off the toilet seat and splash cold water on my face.

When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I know there’s no way to hide that I’ve been crying. But for once, it doesn’t bother me. For once, I don’t care who knows that I locked myself in a bathroom and melted down.

I twist the knob and let myself out.

I need to find Beau.