CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
Bran
I’d fucked up big time with Anne.
When the doctor said she was pregnant, my first reaction was shock and then elation. I was going to be a father.
But then as I considered the timing, I couldn’t help but think perhaps the child wasn’t mine. Even the doctor thought the child was another man’s, telling me I’d have to find a new surrogate.
I’d let the thoughts of another man cloud my judgment and I’d ended up offending her.
Good going, Bran.
Now that I knew the child was mine, I was walking on cloud nine. I’d been excited about the prospect of being a father, but now that a child existed, growing inside of Anne, I was elated.
I felt a strange sense of pride that I was sure of my ego speaking. I’d knocked Anne up without some impersonal procedure. I’d done it the old-fashioned way and for reasons that didn’t make sense, it felt different.
Anne seemed to be a bigger part of the equation now. Or maybe she would have always felt more important even if we did the procedure. Maybe it wasn’t the fact that I’d created life with her in the traditional manner that made this situation feel different. Maybe it was the fact that over the last month, I’d grown more attached to Anne.
Granted, we hadn’t had sex for the last few weeks, but we’d spent time together talking and on occasion doing activities like watching TV. I enjoyed her company. I liked how she called me on my bullshit, usually. I admired her strength as well as her vulnerability.
The truth was I cared for Anne. And I love my child. Our child.
This doesn’t change anything. The method may have changed, but the end result is the same. Her words echoed in my mind. For her, this was still just the deal we’d forged. Making a baby in the intimate way we had didn’t change things for her. I rolled my shoulders at the uncomfortable feeling that thought brought.
Regardless of her feelings, it didn’t stop the ferocious need to ensure her and the baby’s safety. I sat in my office thinking about Anne and the child knowing I had decisions to make. Life could be dangerous.
My parents were taken from me and Harper in an instant. No one leaves the house thinking they’ll die that day. My parents certainly hadn’t. But their deaths and later Harper’s stalker proved that life was full of peril, and it was my job to do what I could to insure the safety of those I cared for.
That meant I needed to beef up security around Anne.
With Anne resting and deciding to have dinner in her room, I left the house, giving Joseph and Mrs. Carlisle instructions to cater to whatever Anne needed. I drove over to Saint Security.
I felt I owed Archer since my mistake in not keeping track of Harper’s stalker was why his wife, Lane, ended up kidnapped. I’d been pissed at him because I didn’t think he was doing a good enough job protecting Harper.
I’d fired him and hired bodyguards for Harper. She’d been safe, but without eyes on Kerby, as Archer had arranged when he was in my employ, Kerby had been able to get close to Harper, and ended up kidnapping the wrong woman.
Archer stood to greet me, the surprise on his face evident. “Mr. Erickson.”
I suspected he thought I was there to complain. The fact that I hadn’t stormed in yelling accusations should have been the clue that I wasn’t there to make a fuss.
“Mr. Graves. Thank you for seeing me without an appointment.”
He motioned to a chair. “How can I help you? Do you want coffee or something?”
I shook my head. “No thank you. I’m here to hire you.”
He arched a brow as he sat behind his desk. I couldn’t blame him for his reaction. In fact, I wouldn’t blame him if he told me to take my business elsewhere.
“It seems to me that efforts to protect Harper didn’t—”
“This isn’t about Harper.”
“Oh?”
“I’m going to be a father.”
His eyes lit up. “Oh. Congratulations. How exciting.”