Page 29 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies (Men of Medford #4)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Beckett

Something was off .

Off in a way that crawled under my skin and wouldn’t let up, a splinter buried too deep to reach.

Riley hadn’t answered any of my texts. Not a single one. Not the check-in from yesterday morning. Not the stupid meme I sent this morning just to make her roll her eyes. Nothing.

Beckett Hey. You sleep okay?

Beckett What did the doctor have to say?

Beckett Hey. Anything I can do?

Garrett looked storm-eyed every time he walked through the door, haunted in a way that didn’t suit him.

And Asher fidgeted like a kid caught sneaking liquor, kept running his hand through his hair as if it might buy him time.

Neither one would meet my eyes.

That silence was loud. None of us could stand not knowing what was going on with Riley.

So I stopped waiting.

Didn’t say a word to either of them. I grabbed my truck keys and left.

I needed to get into town, to see her face to face.

The road into Medford blurred past the window, snow banks softened from the last melt, and a hard chill was creeping in again.

I drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting uselessly on my thigh, my fingers twitching, needing something to hold onto.

I wasn’t good with words. Never had been.

But this wasn’t about words. This was about her .

The radio crackled, the old country station playing something slow and low, a song about missing someone you let slip away.

I hated how much it sounded like me. I turned the volume down, then off, but the silence in the cab made my thoughts louder.

What if she’s sick?

What if something happened at the doctor’s?

What if she doesn’t want us anymore?

That last one twisted sharp.

By the time I pulled into Maple Avenue, the sun was low behind the trees, throwing gold across the storefronts. Thankfully, being a small town meant it wasn’t long before I spotted a familiar face.

Lucy.

She was coming out of The Foundry, a grocery bag tucked under one arm, her other hand gripping her keys tight.

“Lucy!” I jumped out of the truck, heading her way. “How is everything?”

Lucy furrowed her brow. “Yeah, good, thanks. What are you doing in town?”

I offered her a one-shouldered shrug. “Just got some stuff to do. Oh, how’s Riley? Everything go okay with the doctor?”

I couldn’t make that sound as casual as I wanted to. But it didn’t seem Lucy was reading too much into my tone.

“She’s okay. She’s dealing with a lot right now.”

My stomach tightened. “What does that mean?”

“It means…” Lucy exhaled, pressing her lips together. “She’s having a hard time. Processing everything.”

“Processing what?” I pressed, heart thudding a little harder now.

She didn’t answer right away. That alone set every alarm in my chest screaming.

“Lucy.”

“She’s overwhelmed, Beckett. It’s personal. I’m not trying to be cagey, but… It’s not my story to tell.”

That didn’t ease a damn thing. If anything, it made it worse.

“Is she hurt?”

“No,” Lucy said quickly. “Not physically. But there’s more going on than she’s letting on. She’s scared. Upset. And…” She winced. “Well, it’s a lot, okay?”

My jaw clenched hard enough to ache. I didn’t say anything else. I nodded once and turned back toward my truck.

Lucy didn’t stop me. She knew she couldn’t. Whatever she was protecting, it wasn’t going to matter if Riley was falling apart.

I drove slower this time, eyes scanning every side street and parking lot as if I was tracking deer through the woods.

And then I saw her.

She was parked outside the diner, her car tucked into the farthest corner of the lot as if she didn’t want to be seen.

The engine was off, but she hadn’t moved. She sat there, staring through the windshield as if she didn’t recognize the world outside it anymore.

And then, her hand went up to her face.

At first, I thought she was brushing her hair back. But then her shoulders jerked.

She was crying.

My heart sank. I parked across the lot and climbed out, boots crunching softly on old snow and gravel.

I didn’t go right up to her window, didn’t want to spook her. I stood there for a second, watching her try to get a grip she clearly didn’t have.

She had one hand wrapped tight around the steering wheel. The other covered her mouth.

And her eyes, damn, her eyes were red-rimmed, glassy. Clearly, she’d been holding everything in for too long and finally couldn’t anymore.

I tapped once, gently, on the glass.

She flinched. Then turned her head.

The second she saw me, her face crumpled.

“Riley,” I breathed, already pulling the door open.

She didn’t fight me when I crouched beside her. Didn’t say anything, either. She just stared at me like she wasn’t sure I was real.

“I called them,” she rasped finally, voice barely holding together. “My parents.”

I didn’t say anything. Just waited.

Things were bad with her folks. Always had been. She’d told me all about it, so I could understand the tears.

“I don’t know why I did it, I never call them for this reason. But I wanted to speak to them.” Her laugh was bitter. “And all they cared about was how the scandal was playing online. Not how I was doing. Not if I was okay.”

She wiped angrily at her cheeks, tears smudging into her sleeves.

“My mom said I embarrass her.”

Embarrass . Christ.

I felt heat crawl up my neck. The kind that came with helpless fury.

“And my dad didn’t even talk to me. He never does.”

“Riley,” I said, rougher than I meant to. I didn’t want to scare her. But hearing all that? Watching her sit here and fall apart alone?

She blinked. Slowly. Finally looked at me.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispered. “Everything’s spiraling. And I can’t seem to hold any of it still.”

Without thinking, I reached for her hand. She let me take it.

It was cold. Shaking.

She didn’t pull away when I leaned in, she let her forehead rest against my chest. Her breath came in soft, uneven bursts, warming the front of my flannel as she tried to calm down.

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, tugging her closer until she was half in my lap, half still curled in the driver’s seat.

My other hand moved without thinking, fingers brushing through her hair in slow, steady strokes.

I didn’t speak. Didn’t rush her.

I held her.

Let her be small for once. Let her fall apart if she needed to.

The wind outside whistled low across the lot, the windows starting to fog slightly from our shared breath and body heat, but I stayed still, stayed quiet, even when it started to press hard against my ribs, that knowing that something big was coming.

Her voice broke the silence, raw and trembling.

“Beckett,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” I said, brushing my thumb across the back of her neck.

She pulled in a shaky breath, as if it took everything in her to say the next part.

“I’m pregnant.”

The world stilled.

My hand paused in her hair.

Not because I was angry. Not because I was leaving.

But because the ground had just shifted beneath us, and I wanted to make damn sure I didn’t move in the wrong direction.

“Is it ours?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. I needed to know.

She hesitated. Then nodded once. “Yeah. For sure.”

I swallowed hard. Let it sink in.

She was pregnant. Riley was pregnant.

And it was ours .

A life growing inside her. A future neither of us had seen coming.

“Okay,” I said.

She blinked up at me, brows drawn as if she was expecting the sky to fall. “Okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

Tension cracked through her then, disbelief and relief warring on her face. “You’re not mad?”

“Why the hell would I be mad?” I cupped her cheek gently. “You’re scared. You’ve been dealing with this alone. That’s what I’m upset about. You should’ve told me sooner.”

“I didn’t know how. I still don’t.”

“You don’t have to know. We’ll figure it out.”

Her eyes welled again, lips parting. It seemed as if she wanted to believe me, but couldn’t quite trust it.

“I need to keep it quiet for now,” she said. “Please. Just between us.”

I nodded, not even hesitating. “Your call. Whatever you need. But Garrett and Asher…”

“Give me time. I need to wrap my own head around it first. I need to decide what I’m going to do.”

Her shoulders eased. A breath left her chest, almost a sob, and then her lips brushed mine, almost a question, one she didn’t dare say out loud. And damn, I answered it with everything I had.

I kissed her back, slow and steady, my hand coming up to cradle the side of her face, thumb brushing just beneath her eye where the cold had turned her skin pink.

Her lips trembled against mine, uncertain and aching, and it undid me.

She clutched at my shirt as if it was the only thing keeping her tethered to the ground, her fingers fisting in the fabric with a desperation that split something wide open in my chest.

I tasted salt on her lips. Her tears were trying to let me know that she was scared and had been alone for far too long.

Well, I wasn’t going to let her go.

Not now.

Not ever.