Page 32

TWENTY-SIX

HANNAH

“Why did I agree to this?”

I’m sweating as I rush around my apartment, confirming I have everything I need. Or hoping like hell I do. I don’t even know where we’re going, so it’s hard to know what those things might be.

We only have three nights, and he said road trip, so we aren’t flying. That means we aren’t going terribly far. So I went with summer clothing. I packed a few bathing suits, some leggings in case we’re hiking, shorts, a few maxi dresses…and I might have tossed in a sexy piece of lingerie or two, just in case.

I have the tiniest bump. It seemed to pop over the last week.

Will Daniel notice? And if so, what will he think?

“Because everyone deserves to have a day,” Noah answers.

The question was rhetorical. I didn’t even realize he was home. Typically, when Oliver is with Jen, Noah is out moping around. He hates being away from his little guy during the summer, knowing he’ll be gone so much the rest of the year, but Jen is strict about their parenting time, believing it’s best to keep Oliver on a schedule.

I can’t argue with that.

That’s one more facet of life Daniel and I will eventually have to figure out.

Maybe while we’re driving to who knows where.

“What are you talking about?” I say as he stops in the doorway.

“Who do you think suggested this little road trip?”

I smack him. “Ass.”

He chuckles. “Please, you and I both know you’re thrilled to have a few days away with your boy toy.”

“He’s not my boy toy. He’s my—my—” I scrunch my nose and have to fight the urge to stomp my foot. The jerk called him that on purpose. He’s trying to make me put a label on it. “Never mind, you. Why would you suggest a trip?”

Head tilted, he gives me a placating smile, like he thinks I’m an idiot. “You’re always the one who plans trips for the people you care about. Let us take care of you this time, Han.”

I sigh, shoulders falling. “I feel like you’re meddling.”

“You sent me on one when I found out about Oliver.”

“Yeah, without your baby mama. It was a week away to get your head on straight before you had a kid. And you could drink. And have sex with strangers.”

“You want to have sex with strangers?” he asks, brow creased in genuine curiosity.

No. I really don’t. The idea of touching anyone but Daniel makes my stomach roll. And the idea of another woman touching him? It makes my chest burn like I need an antacid. I haven’t had heartburn a single time during my pregnancy, so I can’t even blame it on the baby. No, it’s all because of Daniel and the intrusive thoughts suddenly plaguing me. Rather than answer his question, I change the subject. “Did the trip help?”

His eyes flutter shut and his lips tip in the smallest of smiles, like he’s disappearing into a memory. “When things got really tough that first year”—he opens his eyes—“I’d think of that trip, and it was enough to get me through.”

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t look that girl up afterward.”

Though he didn’t share many details, it was clear that their time together was more than a week-long vacation fling. But he refused to speak about her then, and years later, he’s still holding strong.

He grabs my suitcase and rolls it to the door. “Do me a favor?” He doesn’t turn around, like he’s not yet ready to face me.

“Name it.”

He turns, his expression serious. “Give him a shot. For the next few days, get to know the father of your baby.”

“Like you did with Jen?” I tease, willing my nerves to remain steady.

He rolls his eyes. “Jen and I never had the kind of connection you have with Hall.”

I don’t even know what that means. Why the hell does every one of my friends swear there’s more going on between us than there is?

Not interested in arguing, I duck my head and rifle through my purse, double-checking that I have all I need. “Fine. I’ll be open-minded.”

Noah sags in relief. “Thank you.”

We’re still hovering near the door when a knock sounds from the other side.

When Noah pulls it open, we come face to face with Daniel, who’s wearing a smirk and a black shirt with daddy scrawled across it.

“Harry!” He holds out his hand, and then the two of them do some weird slap-grab-bro-hug thing. When they’re finished, Daniel zeroes in on me, his lips tipped up in the sexiest smirk. “Ready for our next adventure, dream girl?”

I huff like I’m being put out, even as a zing of excitement courses through me. “You going to tell me where we’re going?”

He steps past Noah, drinking me in. His perusal comes to a halt at my stomach. Then he’s reaching out, hand splayed, like he can’t stop himself. Just before his fingers brush my abdomen, he pulls back a fraction. “May I?”

My lower belly coils tight in response. God, why is that hot?

May I?

Fuck.

I suck in a breath and nod.

When he gently presses his palm to my stomach, tears burn my eyes. It’s too much. The way he looks at our connection, the reverence in his gaze. Dark eyes on my face again, he gives me the softest, sweetest smile. Like he knows exactly what I need. Exactly how to handle me in this moment. “Our baby’s in there,” he whispers.

I suck in an unsteady breath and nod again. There’s no way I could speak right now.

He tugs me to him, hugging me with the perfect amount of pressure. Tight enough to imbue me with the comfort I need but not too tight. “You got that list for me?” he murmurs in my ear.

I nod against his shoulder and clear my throat. “It’s a note in my phone. I’ll share it with you.”

He releases me and pulls his phone out, clearly eager to get his eyes on the bucket list I added to last night. Some of the items are ridiculous. Others are simple but still meaningful. I put a lot of genuine thought into all I hope to accomplish in my life. It’s absurd, really, but typing it all out was therapeutic. Like putting it into the universe made it hold less weight.

I hit Send, and an instant later, his phone buzzes. My stomach flips as he unlocks the device, my nerves a mess. I’ve given him yet another piece of me, and part of me wants to unsend the message before he can open it.

For a solid minute, he uses his thumb to scroll through all the bullet points. Finally he peers up at me, his messy hair hanging over his forehead. “Give me until the end of the list.”

I tilt my head, lips turned down in consideration. Does he mean what I think he means? “Why?”

“You want to get to know me, and I want to get to know you better. Give me until the end of the list.”

Tongue pressed to my cheek, I step closer. “There are quite a few things on that list, Playboy. You sure you’re up for it?”

With a grin, he cups my face with one hand. “For you, always.”

Stomach swooping, I lean in. God, I want to kiss the ever-loving shit out of this man?—

“I’m going to get out of here,” Noah says, his voice like a bucket of ice water.

Oops. Poor guy. If he hadn’t spoken up, there’s no telling what would have happened next.

My cheeks flame in an unfamiliar way, and I turn my face into Daniel’s palm, hiding. “Bye, Noah.”

When the door shuts behind my stepbrother, Daniel chuckles and presses a soft kiss to the side of my neck. “Come on, dream girl. We’ve got a list to attack.”

“You really aren’t going to tell me?” I ask for what has to be the fifth time since he merged onto I-95 headed north. I don’t often travel from Boston by car, so I don’t have the faintest clue where we could be going.

As promised, he’s let me control the radio the entire time. We’re currently listening to Tom Petty with the windows down and the warm summer wind whipping my hair all around. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face if I tried.

Daniel tips his head in my direction. The way he holds the steering wheel, with one hand, his arm relaxed and yet somehow the muscles still bulging, is so damn sexy. “Do you trust me?”

“I got in the car with you, didn’t I?”

He arches a brow, doubling down on his question. “Do you trust me?”

With an exhale, I relax against my seat. “Yes, I trust you.”

Daniel’s expression softens. “Then let me surprise you. Okay?”

Though my natural reaction is to argue, to demand I have at least a little control, I give in. “Okay.”

He switches arms and grasps my hand, giving it a squeeze.

It’s impossible not to smile down at them. I’ve never held hands with another person in a car, at least not that I remember. His hands are surprisingly soft for a hockey player’s, though they are huge in comparison to mine.

“Did Ava tell you they’re finding out the sex of the baby next week?”

I blink out of my rumination and focus on his face. “Oh yeah, she mentioned that at lunch.”

He licks his lips and peeks over at me quickly. “Do you want to find out what we’re having?”

“Yes,” I blurt out, and when he laughs, I straighten. “What? Don’t you?”

He nods. “Yeah, I’d like to know.” He clears his throat, his focus fixed on the road. “Do you have any feelings that make you think you know what we’re having?”

On instinct, I cradle my stomach with my free hand and close my eyes. It’s simple, in this moment, to allow myself to let go of all the stress I usually carry. Right here, with no work to worry about and Daniel’s hand in mine, the music playing and the sun warming my face, I feel nothing short of happy.

“I think it’s a boy.” I roll my head in his direction again and open my eyes. “What do you think?”

Daniel presses his lips together in the way he does when he’s concentrating. He sucks on them, making his dimples deepen.

I’m beginning to think this expression is one of his tells. Something he does when he’s trying to temper his words.

“I don’t really know what kind of symptoms you’re having. War said Ava hasn’t had heartburn, that she craves salty food, and that she’s carrying high—” He darts a look at my abdomen, sucking in a breath like he still can’t believe what he’s seeing. That, or maybe he’s overwhelmed. “I don’t even know what any of that means, though.”

With my head resting against the seat, I study him. The man I find myself more and more fond of every time we’re together. He’s nothing like the playboy good-time guy I thought he was.

“I always prefer salty over sweet, so I’m not sure that says much about anything. No heartburn, and as far as how I’m carrying—” I look down just like he did and shrug. “I have no idea. Probably too early. I guess maybe it’s not so much that I think it’s a boy but that I secretly hope it is.”

The happiness radiating from him as he smiles at me is so pure, so comforting. “You want a boy?”

“I wouldn’t be upset if it was a girl,” I say, glancing out the window at the scenery. “I just never had a great relationship with my mom, so I guess I’m nervous that if I have a daughter, we’ll have that same type of relationship. I worry that I don’t really know how to be a girl mom.”

Daniel gives my hand another comforting squeeze. “You’ll be a great mom, no matter what we have. I have no doubt.”

“You have to say that.”

“I had a pretty easy relationship with my mom,” he says instead of arguing. “But for our whole lives, she tried to turn my sister into what she considered the perfect daughter. She could be harsh and unkind to her, and she always pushed her own agenda rather than allowing Millie to pursue what made her happy. Honestly, I think what Millie went through has made her a better mother.” He lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, Vivi is only two, but already, it’s clear that Millie always has her daughter’s best interest in mind. She works hard not to be our mother, and I have no doubt you’ll do the same.”

Heart thudding, I have to focus on my breathing to keep the tears at bay. “Thank you, Daniel.” I look past him, focusing on the dense forest we’re passing. “My mom isn’t all bad. She’s just selfish.”

Maybe that’s downplaying it, but it’s hard to admit some of her worst attributes. Despite that, I find myself wanting him to understand me better, and I guess a part of that includes who I am because of my mother.

“And your father?”

“Not like Daddy Hall,” I say breezily.

Daniel snaps his head to the side and glares. “Don’t.”

I giggle. “Sorry, habits die hard. And you’ve got to admit, you’ve got one hot dad.”

He groans, pushing his head back against the seat. “Hannah.”

“You should be happy about that. Good genes. You’ll probably look just like him when you grow up.”

He coughs out a laugh. “I am grown up.”

“Nah, you’re still a baby.”

He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “So you’re close with your stepdads?”

“Yup. And unfortunately, you get to meet them all. Don’t worry, only one of them owns guns and knows how to use them.”

He grips the wheel tighter, making it creak, and hisses out a Jesus .

“Honestly,” I say with a grin, “he’s the last one you should worry about. The rest own guns and don’t know how to use them. Far more dangerous.”

“ Hannah .”

I shake with my silent laughter.

“You’re evil, you know that?”

“I do.”

An easy silence falls between us as the sound of Billy Joel’s voice fills the car. When we hit the sign for New Hampshire, Daniel pulls over to the side of the road and tells me to get out.

I turn to him, my back pressed to the door. “Damn, what did I do to make you mad enough to kick me out of the car?”

He steps out and rounds the hood, hand outstretched when I throw my door open. “I want to get a picture in front of the sign.”

I glance at the Welcome to New Hampshire sign. “But why?”

He shakes his head. “Do you always ask so many questions?”

“Yes. So like I said, why?”

He ducks into the car, looming over me, and unbuckles my seat belt, then tugs me by the hand. I follow him away from the whizzing cars and toward the sign, still confused.

He positions me in front of it, then backs up and pulls his phone out. “For the baby album,” he says, holding it up. “I want to show him or her where we took them for their first road trip.”

The smile I wear as he snaps the picture might be the most genuine ever to be caught on camera. It reaches my soul.

He does this again when we reach Vermont, only this time, I ask him to join me in the picture, and we take a selfie. “Our first real picture,” he says quietly as he studies it.

“Can you send it to me?”

He looks up, his brows lifted in surprise, but without a word, he forwards it through text.

“So are we crossing the border?” I ask. If we’re headed to Canada, then I’m going to have to stop at a bathroom first.

“Nah, our destination is only a little farther.”

In the car again, he takes my hand like it’s a habit and heads back onto the highway. I open up the text from him and examine the photo of the two of us. Suddenly I can imagine sitting on the edge of a toddler bed, listening to Daniel tell our child all about this trip. I can visualize him with a photo album on his lap, pointing at this exact picture.

It’s the two of us together in that room. Parents. And maybe something more.

I allow that thought to settle in my bones. To take up residence in my heart. To warm me from the inside out.

Forget the promise I made to Noah. I’m doing this for me. For our child. I’m going to open my heart to the possibility that, just maybe, Daniel and I really could be more.