The Truest Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 4)

Thankful Cooper had asked if he was all right instead of shooting him condemning looks like so many of the wedding guests had, like he’d violated the town virgin.

And Jack was nervous. Nervous about the way Emery wouldn’t meet his eye as they sat across from one another in her beach house. She still wore her bridesmaid gown. It was a light pink that looked great against her skin and hair. Em’s lashes were dark with mascara, but that was all he could see of her eyes.

Look at me.

He wanted to gaze into those startlingly pale, beautiful blue eyes and attempt to work out what Em was thinking.

Was she scared?

Did she hate him?

Did she not want the baby?

Fuck, that didn’t even occur to him. What if she didn’t want the baby?

“Em, I’m going crazy over here. Talk to me.”

“I was going to tell you about the … the baby.” She slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. There was so much anxiety and concern in her eyes, Jack couldn’t pin down if she was worried he thought she hadn’t planned to tell him, or she was freaked out about the whole thing. Probably both.

He sat forward on his seat. “I know that. You told me we’d talk later, remember?”

Relief flickered across her face. “Yeah. I just don’t want you to think I would keep this from you.” Anguish darkened her expression. “Now everyone will know.”

“Let’s forget about that for now. First … I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving that stupid note that—”

“Jack, don’t.” Emery stood, touching her temples like she had a headache. The pale-pink dress was the classiest bridesmaid dress Jack had ever seen. It was sleeveless with a high neckline, tied around the neck in a big bow that made a man’s fingers itch to pull it loose. The dress clung to her gorgeous figure, and all that was revealed of her skin was her arms and back. He wondered if those women realized when they picked this dress out for Em that it was sexy as fuck.

Her belly was flat. By Jack’s calculations, she was only seven weeks along. No sign of the baby yet.

Heat flushed through him. That possessive feeling he had about Em, the feelings he tried to stomp down because he didn’t want to act like a caveman dick, roared through him a hundredfold. When he saw her dancing with that preppy-looking asshole at the wedding, he wanted to rip the guy’s arms off.

If he’d known then that she was pregnant with his kid, Jack might have just done that.

And he didn’t know how to feel about it.

He didn’t like that side of himself.

But he couldn’t deny that Emery made him territorial as hell. Jack knew he had to work on softening the edges of those feelings or he’d push Emery even further away.

“Tell me what you want,” Jack coaxed, watching her pace the living room.

Em stopped pacing to face him. She wrapped her arms around her waist, almost protectively, and Jack wanted nothing more than to go to her and put his arms around her too.

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He knew by the stubborn glint in her eyes that such a gesture would not be welcome at this juncture.

“I’m keeping the baby.”

Jack sagged with relief. Terror wasn’t far behind, but that was probably normal for any soon-to-be father. Right?

“You can be involved if you want, but I can take care of this child alone, emotionally and financially, so you don’t need to feel obligated to do so.”

It was like being sucker punched for the second time that night but this time by a fucking butterfly—you never anticipated the impact of a flutter of its wings. “What?” he bit out.

She looked uneasy. “I’m just saying—”

“I’m in this.” Jack flew off the couch, gesturing to her belly. “That’s my kid. Our kid. Fuck! I don’t need to feel obligated? What the fuck is that?”