“Hopeless?” Luca calls as I slink onto the sofa. “You alright?”
“Just tired. Could you and Coen come back tomorrow to help with the rest?” I stare up at him. I hate how distraught I become when I’m fatigued. My symptoms become worse too.
“Yeah, Co and I will be back with breakfast at nine, but I’m going to stop in around sundown to check on you. Make sure you’ve eaten.” He brushes the hair back from my face like our mom used to do, and I give him a genuine smile this time. “Take care of little bit there while I’m gone.” He winks and clears everyone out.
My tears freefall as my body wilts into the overstuffed cushions of the couch. I feel small flutters of life in my stomach as I finally relax and happiness—the one emotion I can always identify—blossoms in my chest.
I may not have been able to say goodbye to Leslie and Miles, or even make sure they got to meet God’s greatest creation, but I am still going to give it life.
When Leslie found out she couldn’t have children over a year ago, I offered to be their surrogate. It was an easy decision for me because they helped me out so much. They brought me to life. The least I could do was deliver them one.
At four months pregnant, I’m embarking on a life I never knew I would.
As a single mother.
Reed
I knew my new neighbor was moving in this weekend. The realtor who sold the other half of my duplex mentioned it a couple of weeks ago when she was collecting the property's keys from me. The previous owners left in a hurry and hadn’t had time to meet with her, so they were dropped off with me.
At the time of our last meeting, I told her the weekend wouldn’t be a problem—I typically work the day shift. However, three days later, my captain requested that I train a new rookie on the night watch.
Sleeping during the day is hard enough. Add in someone moving in with the help of what appeared to be a football team, and they don't mix.
However, seeing her, listening to her speak, I became an asshole because her beauty knocked me on my ass. The way she smiled, though, that's what caught my attention. To anyone not paying attention—which I suspect happens often—they wouldn’t have recognized the sadness in her stare when her face spoke of happiness.
I don’t know what it is about her, but there’s something different about Hope Carson. Something she tries to hide from the world.
Watching the men who were helping her unload leave, my curiosity gets the best of me. Once they’ve cleared the driveway, leaving the moving truck behind, I hop the railing between our porches and knock on the door. Waiting a beat for sounds of movement, I knock again.
“Come in!” I hear called out and scowl. Does the woman not have any self-preservation?
After opening the door, my gaze roams the room to see boxes in nearly every corner and the couch in the middle of the room, facing a white wall.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I snap.
She sits up so quickly she nearly falls off the couch. Jumping forward, I grab ahold of her arm and pull her back into the cushions, nearly toppling forward myself.
A short breath of air away from her face, and I can see she’s been crying. Not just little tears either. This girl is upset. “What’s wrong?” The protector in me will do almost anything to stop a woman from crying.
“Nothing”—she wipes her face with the sleeves of her baggy sweater—“just overwhelmed.”
That fucking fake ass smile is back.
My jaw clenches.
“Liar.”
“I am not!” Pushing me back, she stands up and grabs one of the frilly pillows off the couch, holding it to her chest.
“You are. I’m a cop, and I’m trained to recognize when I’m being lied to.” Crossing my arms, I dare her to dispute me.
“You’re very rude,” she smarts out instead.
Almost immediately, I can see she regrets the insult.
Before she can apologize, my hand smacks my chest in mock pain. “I’m hurt. You don’t know me, how can you say I’m rude?” I give her a cocky smile to match the sarcasm in my tone, but the way she watches me, I can tell she’s trying to work something out in her head, only I’m not sure what.
“I’m so sorry.” Those damn tears hover again. “I shouldn’t have said that.”