“What the fuck are you doing?”
He winced and held his phone a little farther from his ear. He surveyed the food lining the shelf in front of him. Cereal. He could do better than cereal. She would need vitamins and shit to help the baby grow healthy. Oatmeal is better. He frowned at the selection and finally grabbed one of the high-fiber ones. Babies need fiber, right? “I’m doing right by her, Adam. It’s time.”
“There’s nothing wrong with doing right by her, but this is a fucked-up situation, and if you don’t see that, you’re even more fucked in the head than I thought.”
Daniel narrowed his eyes, moving to the next aisle. “Tell me how you really feel.” He realized he was staring at a vat of olive oil and kept going, heading for the produce section. Devil’s Falls wasn’t exactly a hub of all things grocery related, but surely he could find something that would sound good to Hope.
Adam seemed to realize he was being a jackass, because he took a harsh breath. “I’m sorry. But what the hell are you two going to do?”
That was the question of the hour. He knew what the ideal situation would be, but he also knew that there was no way Hope would agree to marry him just because a baby came along. Convincing her that it wasn’t just about the baby was going to be harder than hell…but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. As she’d pointed out time and time again, what happened thirteen years ago wasn’t a good enough reason to make a decision about things happening right now. Maybe it was time he finally started listening.
He picked up an apple, frowned, and set it down again. Maybe I should make a run in to Pecos. “She’s mine, Adam. She always has been.”
“If that’s the case, you’ve done a shitty job of taking care of what’s yours.”
It was the truth, and that only made it sting all the more. He glared at the oranges. None of them were good enough. “I’m looking to change that now.” He grabbed a cluster of bananas and set them in his basket, balancing the phone against his ear. It was time to get to the point of this call and hang up so he could focus on what food would be the best bet for Hope. “We’re putting together a dinner this weekend to tell the family—both families—and I’d like you and Jules to be there.”
Adam sighed. “It’s going to be a train wreck.”
“Probably.” Most definitely. There wasn’t an outcome where the Moores were happy about this, and he didn’t think his parents would be too keen, either. They loved Hope, and he’d broken his mother’s heart when he and Hope broke up, but he figured this wasn’t how they dreamed they’d end up with grandchildren.
“I’ll be there—for this and for whatever either one of you need down the road.” He hesitated. “Don’t fuck this up, Daniel. Hope’s a good girl—always has been—but she’s been through a lot. It hasn’t broken her yet, but it’s just plain cruel to pursue this if it isn’t what you really want.”
“I want it.” He’d had a hell of a time convincing her to let him have this much. He wasn’t about to jeopardize his chance to make amends by pushing her too hard, too fast.
Maybe you should have thought of that before you fucked with her car.
Daniel didn’t know if he believed in karma, but if it existed, it was practically waving a flashing neon sign in his face telling him that he couldn’t ignore Hope and their baby. “I’ll let you know about dinner once we have the day and time finalized.”
“Sounds good. And Daniel?”
“Yeah?”
“Congrats.”
He hung up, a slow smile spreading across his face. That had gone better than he’d anticipated. He knew Adam wasn’t happy with how shit had played out recently. Hell, Quinn wasn’t happy, either, but Quinn was less likely to corner him and confront him about it. They’d worked together too long for him to rock the boat unless he thought the situation was dire. Adam didn’t have that problem and, combined with Daniel’s meddling cousin rubbing off on her now husband, he could be a real pain in the ass sometimes.
But all that was going to change.
Everything was going to change.
He headed for the refrigerated section, determined not to forget yogurt after he’d come here specifically for it. He laughed softly at the pile of food in his basket. Should have gotten a cart. Daniel stopped in front of the yogurt section. Where the store was sparse in selection in other places, someone who stocked it really liked yogurt. There were at least twenty different varieties. Once he found the Greek version, that narrowed his choices down to six. He frowned. Short of calling Hope, there was no telling which flavor she wanted—or if that would be the same flavor she’d want tomorrow.
Better get them all.
He grabbed as many as could fit into the basket and then had a moment of considering if he should go back and get an actual cart so he could buy more. There had to be some kind of limit on how much yogurt one woman could eat, right? He studied the basket. “Well, hell. If she wants more, I’ll just come buy out the rest of the selection.” Simple.
Daniel couldn’t stop the stupid grin from spreading across his face at the incredulous expression Jessica gave him as she rang him up. Let her wonder what he was up to. Let the whole damn town wonder. Hope Moore was in his house and in his bed, and she was staying—without a fight—for at least a few days more.
Things are finally starting to look up.
…
Hope stood in the kitchen, looking at the neat rows of Greek yogurt in the fridge. She’d laughed when Daniel came back with bags upon bags of it yesterday, but it was all she wanted to eat right now. He was trying so hard and, despite her, he was starting to win her over. They hadn’t really solved anything with their fight, but maybe it was better to just focus on the future instead of the injuries they’d dealt each other in the past.
She was so damn tired of fighting.
She’d delegated the two projects she’d just taken on, and she was trying very hard not to look into the fact that the two ladies who worked with her were so freaking surprised that she’d taken vacation. It was the first time in years, but still.
Five days. That was it. After the party, she’d go back to Dallas and that would be that.
Strawberry sounded particularly delicious this morning, so she grabbed that container and sat down on the single bar stool to eat. Three days in Devil’s Falls, and she was getting twitchy. She needed a good, long workout. Hope twisted to rub her leg. Running had been her outlet once upon a time, but that stopped being an option when she was eighteen. Now she used specific exercises and yoga to keep her knee from giving her too much grief—two things she hadn’t been doing since she showed up on Daniel’s doorstep.
She was pushing herself too hard, and she knew it—she’d had more than enough experience over the last decade to know her limits, and she was toeing the line. If she wasn’t careful, she’d have a whole lot in the way of sleepless nights in the future. The pain pills she kept as a last resort weren’t an option now that she was pregnant.
God, she hated those pills. They were like the physical representation of her weakness, a constant reminder that she wasn’t normal and never would be. Normal people didn’t have to worry about a body part inside her skin that didn’t originate with her, or about nerves that sometimes felt like they were on fire.
The problem was that Daniel had been working really hard not to pay too much attention to her leg, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable…
Hope straightened. “What the hell is wrong with me?” She was not doing this again. She’d put other people first for far too long, and he was the one who kept telling her he wanted to do right by her. Her scars were part of her, and if he couldn’t handle that, he had no business trying to elbow his way into her life.
She finished off her yogurt, dropped the container in the trash, and put the spoon in the sink. She’d deal with whatever work things had popped up overnight and then she’d take a relaxing bath. After that, she’d settle in with some tea and a few movies and see if a day off her feet helped. She
kind of suspected it wouldn’t, but she had to try.
Things were going great right up until she leveraged herself into the bath filled to the brim with bubbles…and heard the front door open. Hope shot a panicked glance at the unlocked bathroom door, but if the heavy footfalls heading in her direction were any indication, she didn’t have enough time to fight her way to her feet and hope that she managed to get to the lock before the person in the hallway got to the door.
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, the door opened and Daniel poked his head in. “Hope? I’m just…” He trailed off, his gaze raking over her. “Well, fuck.”
She wasn’t sure what she should be trying to cover, so she didn’t cover anything. Her mangled knee clearly showed over the top of the bubbles, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it without curling into a ball. He has to deal with it eventually. “Did you need something?”