Page 37

CHAPTER 37

MIRIAM

Sitting on the couch, I keep peeking at the door every time I hear the slightest sound. I’d love to go out there and walk around, but this damn bed rest is really fucking up my sense of body autonomy.

Finally, there’s a soft door slam followed by Tatum and Ezra immediately heading out the front door. Kevin is at the station for the evening, so it’s just been those two with me all afternoon.

More uneasy feelings of guilt fill me when everyone but Kevin strolls back in with hands full of bags and a couple of suitcases. Standing, I barely have a chance to say, “Let me help,” before Richard glares.

“Miriam.” His censure annoys me, but I decide to meet them halfway.

“I won’t go out and carry stuff in, but I can at least sit on the bed and unpack everything.”

He considers it, then gives in. “I think that would be fine.”

Smiling happily, I take my time heading into the room so I can enjoy being on my feet and stretching my legs for a bit. Being restricted is making me more tired than the pregnancy and I feel as though all I do is sleep now.

They leave me alone for a few to grab the last load and I balk when it hits me that Richard went through all my things. I panic before remembering there’s nothing he would have found. “Ezra!” I shout, biting back a laugh as he practically falls through the door in a rush, dropping a small box on the floor.

“What?” he asks, glancing around the room to see what I’d need him for.

Holding up my hairbrush, I point it at him. “You still have something of mine and I want it back.”

The concern he was wearing immediately flips to one full of mischief. “I won’t. Doctor’s orders, remember?”

Richard enters the room as I hiss, “I wasn’t going to use it, pendejo !”

“Ezra, what’d you do?” Richard asks, clearly used to my bouts of anger as he nonchalantly sets his load next to me and looks around. “I’ll stay in here while you sort through this and put away where you want it.”

“Stop!” My order freezes Ezra as he was attempting to sneak out of my room. “I want it back, Ez.”

He shakes his head slowly, denying me. “I can’t. I’ll get you something better.” Then he spins and races from the room, only to slam into Tatum. “Sorry, bud. I’ll be back!”

“I’ll go sort him out,” Tatum says with a laugh, then leaves to follow Ezra outside.

I’m chuckling softly as I turn and find Richard watching me. “What was that about?”

With a sigh, I fight the blush heating my face and fail miserably. “Ezra took something from my apartment a while back. Would you put these in the top drawer over there?”

He takes the stack of clothes I folded, but doesn’t move away. Tilting his head, he studies me. “You’re embarrassed. What did he take?”

“That’s not the point. I just want it back.” I pour out the bag full of paired socks and start sorting them into piles. Why? Who fucking knows, but I do it anyway to keep my hands busy.

Richard eventually sets the stack in the drawer nicely, then freezes. His body stiffens and I hear a soft, “Ah, I see.”

“Don’t say a word, Dick.” Hating that my socks aren’t all rolled together the same way, I start aggressively unpairing them and rerolling. It’s not fair to be annoyed with him since it was Ezra who took my vibrator, but he’s the only one around. “Wouldn’t want you running to tell my dad or anything.”

I’m blown away when he bellows out a full-bodied laugh, hugging his arm to his stomach as he turns around. I’ve heard him chuckle before, but nothing like this and I’ll be honest, it’s freaking me out. Is he having a mental breakdown?

“Stop it,” I order, which only makes him laugh harder.

Tatum sticks his head in the door. I never heard them come back in the house, but admittedly, I was distracted by thoughts of regaining my composure. “You alright, man?”

Richard waves him off. “I’m fine. Shut the door, would you?”

He nods, then winks at me before shutting us in. Still laughing, he comes to me and points at my socks. “Want me to put these away?”

“Why are you laughing?” I ask, scooping them up and dropping them into his hands. He chuckles again while putting them away into a new drawer.

“Because I thought for sure I was in the doghouse after the way the visit went.” Glancing over his shoulder, he grows serious. “I had no intentions of crossing a line with your family. My thought was to have a conversation with your father in regard to the baby and give him reassurance that you weren’t going to be saddled with the brunt of financial and emotional responsibilities on your own.”

Exasperated, I sigh. “Richard, would you just tell me what you mean without the formality? Just for a minute?”

I’m sure he feels uncomfortable with the way his jaw clenches, but he sits next to me. Eyeing my stomach for a moment, his eyes dart to mine. “Would you let me touch him?”

My answer is to lean back and brace myself on the bed. I shiver when he slips his hand under my T-shirt. His hand is warm and I’m finding I very much enjoy having them touch me like this.

“I’m not sure where I stand with you, so my head is spinning. The only way I know how to contribute right now is going to the appointments and planning for his future, for both of your futures.” He stresses his words by pressing more firmly, only for little Gabriel to shift under his fingers.

Richard’s eyes widen, and his eyes fly to mine.

“Was that?—”

“Yeah,” I breathe out. “Here, give me your other hand.” I process what he told me while taking his offered hand and place it on the other side of my stomach. “If you push in here and keep your hand on the other side, sometimes he’ll react and move around again.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says softly and I laugh.

“It doesn’t hurt. I promise. Look.” I place my hand on his and show him how hard I can push and he winces, but then Gabriel moves again. I swear I hear a tiny groan from pleasure, and he tries himself.

I let his hand go to keep myself held up at an angle while he moves his hands around, testing different spots and grinning every time there’s a slight flutter of movement.

“How big do you think he is right now?”

I lean my head side to side, considering it and going over what I’ve read recently. “I’d guess over a foot long and a couple of pounds by now. He’ll gain another six or eight inches and thicken up pretty quickly over the next few months. But if something were to happen, and I went into labor now, he would have a good chance of being alright.”

That brings him up short, and he sits back with a frown. “That doesn’t seem right. It’s far too early.”

“It is,” I say, nodding. “I’m just saying that we’re pretty far in the clear health wise. There’d be concerns, for sure, but there is a huge sense of relief knowing odds are significantly in our favor. Richard,” I trail off, drawing his attention.

Pulling my shirt down, he reaches out to help me sit straight up. “Thank you for that, and before you say anything about what I said earlier, I want to reiterate, I very much regret the way we started off. My reasons for holding back from you aren’t a reflection of how I felt about you when we first met. It was my own shit I wrongly put on your shoulders. It was never your responsibility to own and I truly am sorry for ever making you fell less than.”

“I—” Stopping, my voice croaks, unsure how to respond. I’ve been hurt deeply by him in particular, but now I’m not so sure what to say. In the end, I know it doesn’t matter now. He had predetermined expectations of what was a regular arrangement. Was he an asshole about it? Abso-fucking-lutely. Was I an asshole? Yeah, I probably was, but pride will make your mouth run before taking the time to ask the right questions.

He takes my hand and brings my knuckles to his mouth, kissing them softly. Using his thumb to brush the spot after, he watches the movement. “We don’t need to talk about anything right now.” A grin tilts the corner of his mouth up. “It’s not as if we don’t have lots of time in the future to hash it all out.”

“What if he’s not yours?”

“What if he is?”

My brows furrow. “That’s pretty much what I’m asking.”

Chuckling, he kisses my hand again and stands back up. “It doesn’t matter either way. I’ll admit, I’ve been fantasizing about him being mine. I want him to be mine. If he’s not, well…” Letting that thought trail off, he heads to the door and says, “I’ll grab you a few more bottles of water.”

Stopping him, I want him to come back so I can smack some sense into him. I need him to give me a straight answer.

“Well, what? ”

With a shrug, he opens the door. “I’ll just have to try harder next time.” Then he slips from the room, leaving me with my mouth hanging open.