It probably frightens him as much as it frightens me.

He’s twenty-four. So young. Not ready to be a father. What was I thinking, saying those words to him? He was probably counting on another ten years of womanizing before he even thought about settling down.

The coffeepot gurgles, indicating that the brew is finished. I rise, grab a ceramic mug from the cupboard, pour Brock a steaming cup, and head back into his bedroom.

Only to find him passed out on his bed, buck naked.

I chuckle despite myself. He’ll sleep it off. That five o’clock rancher alarm is going to chime at him early.

I turn to leave but then look over my shoulder.

A rush of feelings surge through me. Desire, yes, but also the yearning to comfort him. Lie down with him and take him in my arms, to keep him safe until morning.

Ridiculous, I know. He’s perfectly safe, and Sammy won’t leave his side. She’s snuggled at the foot of the bed, her head up and cocked, as she watches me.

I walk toward her and scratch her behind her ears. “You’re a good girl. You’ll take care of your daddy.”

She whimpers softly.

“I can’t stay,” I tell her. “I just can’t.”

She whimpers again.

“Such a good girl.”

And…I’m talking to a dog.

I have my own dog at home, waiting for me. Zach sleeps on my bed with me now that we’re sure that he’s house-trained. He doesn’t have to be in a kennel at night.

I need to go home. Be with my own dog. Be with my own family. The people who will have my back no matter what.

Even if…

Even if those damned photos see the light of day.

I resist the urge to reach toward Brock as he sleeps. I resist the urge to stroke his tan skin, smooth his still-damp hair.

I rise again, try to drown out Sammy’s whimper, and leave the bedroom.

In the kitchen, I turn off the coffeepot and dispose of the coffee that Brock didn’t drink.

Then I leave.

My alarm rings at eight the next morning, and I yawn and stretch. Zach pushes his cold, wet nose against my shoulder.

“You need to go out?” I say sweetly.

Then I smile. Last night I thought I was being silly to talk to Sammy, but talking to dogs is something I’ve always done. I wonder if Zach and Sammy would like each other, whether they could play together, live together as a pack.

Already I’m thinking these thoughts. As if Brock and I have some kind of future. As if…

I lightly touch my abdomen again.

As if…

I just don’t know. These feelings are scary. Scary and freaky. None of my other serious relationships have elicited such emotion in me, and this isn’t even a relationship.

It’s two dates and fucks, the last of which ended in an argument.

I jerk at a knock on my door.

“Rory?” Callie’s voice.

“Yeah, come in.”

She comes through our shared bathroom door. She’s in her pajamas.

“You’re here. I thought you’d be at Donny’s.”

“His bedroom furniture hasn’t been delivered to the guesthouse yet,” Callie says. “So unless I want to sleep on the couch with him, I needed to come home.”

“Oh.”

She lifts her eyebrows. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Except…”

“What? What is it?”

“Last night, I slept with Brock.”

Her eyebrows go farther. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Are you kidding? It was amazing. Probably the best sex I’ve ever had, but there’s an itsy-bitsy problem.”

“Which is?”

“He didn’t use a condom.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh.”

“I’m not on the pill. No reason to be, since my last relationship was with Raine.”

“I doubt there’s anything to worry about. I’m sure Brock Steel is as clean as they come.”

“That’s not what I’m concerned about.” I nod toward my dresser where my purse sits. “Grab my purse and look inside.”

Callie walks to the dresser, grabs my purse, and dumps its contents—

“Oh shit.” She pulls out the tissue-covered ovulation stick. “You took the test.”

“Yeah. I’m ovulating.”

“Man.”

“Right?”

“Well…you won’t know for sure until you miss your period. And even then it might be nothing. You’ll have to take a test. No reason to worry.”

“I’m actually not worried. You know I want a child. But I don’t want it this way. Besides, I made some mistakes.”

“Like what?”

“I did something really stupid, Cal. I asked Brock if he’d be willing to father my child.”

“Oh, Rory. You didn’t.”

“I did. And he politely declined, which I understood. The problem is that when we went to bed last night, we were both so eager and into it that he forgot the condom.”

“That’s on him, then.”

“Yes, partially. It’s also on me. I could’ve reminded him.”

“You didn’t intentionally neglect to remind him, did you?”

“Of course not. I’m not manipulative like that.”

“Good. I didn’t think you were, but I had to ask. You know, after you asked him to father your child. Which, Rory, you shouldn’t have done.”

“Tell me about it. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure I’d said it out loud. I guess it’s just been on my brain.”

Tags: Helen Hardt Steel Brothers Saga Erotic
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