Baby Daddy Wanted (Crescent Cove 5)

“Veronica.”

I swallowed hard and turned around, shivering as the stiff breeze blew my hair straight back.

With one glimpse of him, so strong and proud in his dark vest and crisp white shirt, his white sleeves billowing a bit in the wind, I wanted to run to him, bury my face in his chest, and never leave.

I fought the impulse for a minute, maybe two, as we stared at each other. Then I moved toward him and sighed in relief when his arms encircled me tightly.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled into his throat. “I’m sorry I ran off and left you with my mess.”

“It’s our mess now.”

I eased back to look up at him, laughing and sniffling, and he gave me a wry smile. “I mean, what mess?”

“Yeah, right. That was a Meet the Parents sequel if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Pretty sure they’ve had a couple of them.”

“Yeah, and tonight would’ve qualified to join the list.” I swiped at my chin. “I swear, I’m typically not much of a crier, but my emotions are all over the place lately.”

“She sprung information on you that you weren’t expecting. You’re entitled.”

“Oh, yeah? And was I entitled to run off and leave you hanging?”

“Yes.” He brushed back a strand of my windblown hair. “Because that’s the only way you’ll ever believe I’ll always chase after you.”

“Aww, Murphy.” I glanced up at him, swallowing deeply at the reflection of the lights surrounding the pier shimmering in his hazel eyes. Such trustworthy eyes. Such broad shoulders, capable of carrying the weight of what mattered every day and not faltering.

Steadfast. True. Honorable. That was Murphy.

And he was everything I wanted, more than I ever could have guessed.

He was the exact opposite of my mother. The word flighty had no space in his vocabulary. He was the sort of man who would stick—for life.

If I was brave enough to take the chance and let him in.

“I don’t deserve you,” I whispered.

“Don’t I get to decide that?” His hand molded to my cheek. “I get to say who I want and what I want. If I’m lucky, you’ll want me back.”

“I do. God, I do. So much. But I didn’t tell you about my baggage.”

“Baggage like what? A secret lover stashed away somewhere? A prison record? Maybe a hidden past on the run?”

My lips trembled into a smile. “No. More like I have commitment issues. I get really fucking bitchy when I get PMS and on days one and two of my period. And I probably wanted a baby to have someone to love, and someone to love me back, which shows I may not be good parent material at all.”

His hand firmed against my face. “What makes a better parent than that?”

I didn’t have an answer for him. Or myself. I was questioning everything right now.

Except how I felt about him. That was a warm, wild beat in my chest that never waned for even a second. It was growing more intense with every passing moment.

He turned me toward the railing and wrapped his arms around me from behind, setting his chin on my head. His solid column of warmth at my back made me feel more secure than I’d ever felt in my life.

And more scared.

“I believe in you,” he said after a couple of minutes of silence, broken only by the lapping water and the soft murmur of the voices around us.

Despite the chill, it was a nice night and lots of people were out and about. None of them existed as far as I was concerned.