Page 26 of Tangled Desires

I spin on my heel and head upstairs, cursing my brain the whole way. The ultrasound’s still on my bed, a tiny grey smudge on a sea of static. It’s small, barely anything—but it feels like it weighs a ton. By the time I’m back downstairs, I’m out of breath. Great.

“Here.” I hand it to him, and he takes it like it might shatter in his hands.

“What… what am I looking at?” His brow furrows, pure confusion written all over his face.

I sigh and point. “There. That tiny grey blob. Six weeks old. About the size of a ladybug.”

“Shit. Really?”

“Yep.”

He looks up at me, and for once, the cocky glint is gone. His eyes—hazel? No, they’re green. When the hell did they turn green? The fading sunlight catches them, making them almost golden. My chest tightens, a flutter messing with my pulse. Nope. Not happening.

“Right. Well, you can keep that,” I say, rushing the words.

“No, it’s yours.”

“It’s fine. I’ve got another one.” I step toward the door, but the breeze carries his scent—woodsy, warm, stupidly unfair.

“So, do you have more appointments coming up?” His voice is softer now.

I glance at him, my gaze flickering over his face, then his tattooed neck. “Uh, yeah,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. He crosses his arms, waiting. I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

“I need to book my first antenatal appointment at the hospital—probably the one in town. And an ultrasound at thirteen weeks to check the baby’s growth, make sure everything’s okay.”

I’d go to Clifftop Haven, but stuff that. It’s too far to commute to. I’ll suck it up and go to our local hospital. I trail off, realising I’m rambling. His gaze doesn’t waver, and I hate how steady he looks. “I’ve got it under control,” I add quickly, folding my arms.

Harrison shifts. “Okay, look. Assuming I’m the father, I’m in. I know I’m not your favourite person, but I’m not half-assing this. You can hate me all you want, but this baby? They’ve got me, one hundred percent.”

“You are the father.” Like the test wasn’t proof enough. How could he even question it? “You’re the last person I slept with, Harrison. And for the record, I don’t just sleep with anyone, so no, I haven’t been with someone else.” I narrow my eyes. “Why am I even explaining this to you?”

“Should I feel special, then?” he says with a smug grin.

“Absolutely not,” I huff.

His face softens, and he drags a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to assume or offend you. That’s not what I was trying to say. This is just...”

“Doesn’t matter,” I cut him off. “I don’t need your help, Harrison.”

“I’m not asking if you do. I’m telling you. You’re not doing this alone, and you’re not shutting me out. Like it or not, I’m here.” The words hit harder than I want them to.

“I am fine on my own, though.” I’m trying to sound like I’ve got it all sorted, but the ache in my words betrays me. Who am I trying to convince?

He smirks—just a flicker—but his eyes are steady. “Oh, Iknowyou’re fine. Doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere.”

There’s something in his tone, in the way he looks at me, that makes me pause. It’s familiar—too familiar. Like maybe he gets it in a way I don’t want him to. But I can’t care. Caring is messy, and I’ve already got enough on my plate.

“Fine.”

“Okay.”

He steps past me, and I watch him head toward the door, his boots heavy on the floorboards. When he reaches the steps, he pauses, turning back to face me. “I meant what I said, Imogen, about wanting more than just one night.” A beat passes. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

It’s not a suggestion. It’s a promise. And with that, he heads down the steps, leaving me standing there, heart racing, thoughts spinning. What does that mean for me? For us?

His car roars to life—loud, unapologetic, just like him—and fades down the road, leaving behind a tension I can’t shake. Before I can exhale properly, another engine rumbles in. Dad’s ute. He hops out, his grin faltering as he takes me in.

“What’s going on, pumpkin?”