Nixon (Raleigh Raptors 1)

I chewed on my bottom lip, letting the information sink in. I knew I’d never live up to their mother, what woman could? But I knew I wanted to try. Wanted to be the best mother I could possibly be. Even though before that weekend in Vegas I’d never contemplated having a baby so soon.

“Thanks for the tip,” I finally said. “I need as many as I can get.” Maybe if I ever found the courage, I’d ask Nixon if I could call his mother and take notes about how she managed to raise two incredible men.

“You’ll do amazing,” Nixon said, the edge gone from his voice. I smiled at him, and then our waitress brought our meals, and we ate in a comfortable mish-mash of real and light conversation. I found myself relaxing as the night went on, settling into the easy way it was to talk to both Harper and Nathan. The Noble family was truly not a bad one to have gotten accidentally attached to.

“I’ll be right back,” I said to Nixon after we’d finished dessert, well, after I’d finished mine and the rest of his. Somedays I could eat a mountain of food and still never feel full. “Bathroom.” I motioned across the restaurant.

“Me too!” Harper hopped up from her seat, hurrying to my side.

I didn’t raise a brow at her eagerness, having grown quite used to her quirks the past two times I’d met her. She was a loveable genius who couldn’t help but speak her mind or hide away in it.

“So,” Harper said as I washed my hands. She leaned against the granite counter, her arms folded over her chest.

“So?” I asked as I dried my hands and tossed the paper towel in the garbage. I arched a brow at her when she didn’t immediately head for the door.

“What’s the official story on you and Nixon?” she asked.

“Um…well…” I glanced down at my tummy and then back up again. “Vegas. Drinks. Two pink lines. You were there for part of it.” The drinks part, anyway.

Harper laughed softly and shook her head. “I remember that part,” she said, then cringed. “Well, not all the parts. But I remember the drinks.”

I nodded. She’d been kind enough to make me some mythical smoothie that had cut my hangover in half.

“You moved in with Nixon.”

“He asked me to,” I said. “When he learned how bad the morning sickness affected me.”

She tilted her head.

“Morning sickness isn’t actually confined to the morning. At least not for me. It was an all-day, all-night kind of thing. And it was even worse when triggered by certain smells, like this fish tank…” A shudder choked off the last of my words, and I swallowed back a mouthful of acid. God, I still couldn’t think about that smell without wanting to puke.

“That’s awful,” she said. “Is it better at his place?”

So. Much. Better. Not only because there weren’t any nefarious smells assaulting me, but because he had an incredibly comfortable bed, a spacious and quiet home, and a kiss that haunted my dreams.

“Yes,” I said.

“Do you love him?”

I sputtered at her direct question. “I’m just getting to know him,” I blurted.

She eyed me, and I had to give the woman credit, she wasn’t pulling any punches. “Look,” she said. “Nixon hated me at first. It took me months to earn his trust, and then his love. So, I’m sorry if I’m being that girl, but I’m protective of these brothers. They’re good men, and they deserve to be treated as such.”

I parted my lips, but nodded. “I know that,” I said on a released breath. “I do. But I won’t stand here and lie to you, Harper. Nixon is…” What was he? Infuriating and gorgeous and funny and endearing and God, he made me crazy.

“Yeah,” Harper said like she could read my mind.

“I don’t know what we are,” I admitted. “I don’t think either of us know. We didn’t plan for this to happen. It was thrown at us. And he’s been more than amazing about the whole situation.” Except for the day I told him, but now I understood his reasoning. “I don’t know if I love him. It’s impossible for me to know that this soon, but I can tell you one thing with absolute certainty.” I smoothed my hand over my stomach, feeling the life inside there. “I love this baby. And it’s made up of pieces of us.” I shrugged like there was nothing else I could possibly explain beyond that.

Harper bit back a smile, nodding. “I understand that,” she said. “And, again, I’m sorry. It’s just Nixon has been through so much. What with Nick—”

“His ex—” We spoke at the same time, and I tilted my head.

“Who’s Nick?”

“His ex?”

We spoke at the same time again, and Harper’s eyes scanned my face, something like pity flashing there again.