“Yes, Winter. That’s exactly what you do. Because she does not hate you.”
“I’m . . . I don’t know how to mend this. I’m embarrassed,” she confesses quietly.
“Don’t be. We all need a fresh start now and again. Come hang out sometime. Maybe you’ll even have fun.”
She snorts at my suggestion. “With the two of you? Why would I even try? You and Summer are so tight, I bet you get your periods at the same time. Totally synched up. I remember you two binging junk food every month and complaining about your cramps.”
I laugh but stop as I process the words. Pre-period I’m always extra-bitchy. I’m a couple of days into my placebo pills for the month but nothing has started.
The other day, Summer complained about her cramps, and I just tittered like a sex-drunk idiot.
The blood drains from my face. It feels like it pools in my feet and grows heavy there as questions circulate in my mind, questions I haven’t even let myself think about.
“Are you okay?” Concern laces Winter’s tone.
“I . . .” My palms come up to rest on my cheeks. How did I miss this? “Fuck. What’s the date today?”
Winter’s eyes scan me, intelligence flashing in every glance. “Oh shit,” she says, rearing back a little. “Did you let that cowboy knock you up, Willa Grant?”
It’s dark by the time we hit the road again, which suits me fine because Cade can’t see my face as well under the cover of night.
He’s tired. I’m tired.
I’m in shock.
Winter tracked me down a pregnancy test while Cade had his fingers casted. It came back positive for a tiny Eaton, and I just sat in the waiting room staring into space.
Winter stayed for a while. She wasn’t overly comforting, but it was nice to have someone with me all the same. She was quiet and withdrawn as soon as the test came back positive.
It was awkward.
“You okay?” Cade asks, jolting me from my thoughts.
“Me? Yeah? Fine. Why?” I turn slightly to peek at his furrowed brow and beautifully crafted face. I’m not even mad, I’m not even sad. I’m oddly at peace with the whole thing.
But I am worried about him.
“Because you’re gripping the steering wheel like you’re trying to strangle it.”
“Ah,” I say with a nod.
“Did Winter say something to you? Do we like her? Do we hate her? Am I supposed to be mad at something with you? Because I will be if you are. Just tell me how to be supportive.”
Fuck, he’s sweet. His voice is all rough edges and deep grumbles, but I know he means what he says.
I just worry that after being trapped by one pregnancy, he’ll feel the same all over again. He’ll feel confined. He’ll be stuck providing for a woman and a baby that he never really got to be sure he wanted.
Again.
“No,” I reply softly, “Winter was great. I’m hoping her and Summer can mend this thing between them. I think they both need it.”
“I’m going to be fine, you know.” He reaches across the center console for my hand, twining his fingers with mine, forcing a soft sigh from my lips. I always feel better with his hands on my body.
More grounded. More myself. More confident.
I’m more myself with Cade Eaton than I’ve ever been, and now I’ll have to wonder if he feels the same, or if he’s going through the motions out of a sense of duty. Again. Our relationship is in its infancy, and as much as I realize I do want a family—with Cade even—I can’t say that I saw it playing out quite like this.
“I know,” I say, but I don’t know if I believe it. And I don’t know if things will ever be the same between us once I say this out loud to him. How could he possibly be fine with this happening to him again?
I know I need to tell him. I can feel the words building in my throat the closer we get to the ranch. The more he strokes my hand, the more flustered I get, and the guiltier I feel for sitting here wordlessly for the past fifteen minutes.
We drive in silence, but I sense he knows something is up because I’m not my normal, chatty self. I can see him tossing nervous glances my way, like he’s totally out of his depth.
But so am I.
When we pull up at the house, I put the truck in park but stay staring out the front windshield.
“Look, Red, I’m trying not to be a domineering asshole, but I want to know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. I can see the gears turning. I can tell by the way you’re sitting. By the tension in your hand. Usually I can’t get you to shut up unless I stuff your panties in your mouth. So this?” He gestures between us. “This is weird.”