His Little Secret

She skids to a halt and I watch a few different emotions pass over her face. Surprise. Happiness. And finally the killer: indifference. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“That right?” I take her elbow and drag my hissing niece around the side of the building. “I have a lot of things to say to you, sweetheart, but right now I’m concerned with one thing.” I urge her chin up with my fingers, aching to kiss her. “What’s in the bag, Ripley?”

“Nothing,” she says too quickly, her eyes darting to the side.

“Now that’s bull and we both know it.” I’m painfully aware that anyone walking by can glance down the side street and see us. A six-foot-three felon with neck tattoos trapping a sweet, young girl against a building. They’ll probably think I’m robbing or assaulting her. Our many differences are why I tried so hard to stay away, but hell if logic matters anymore now that I’ve had her legs wrapped around me. “You pregnant, baby?”

She must feel my erection swell against her stomach because she sucks in a sexy, little breath. “How would I know? It’s only been five days.”

“Ripley…” I warn.

“Fine.” Her free hand shoves at my shoulder, but I don’t budge. “My period was supposed to start the day after we…after you…”

“After I fucked you good and hard?”

My niece tries to trap a moan but doesn’t quite succeed and it drives me crazy. Makes me want to fall to my knees, lift the hem of her dress and lick between her legs, right here on the street. “Anyway,” she whispers tremulously. “I-I’m late.”

The confirmation, or at least what I deem as proof that Ripley is carrying my child, packs my chest so tight with emotion, I can barely breathe. Mine. I’m going to care for her and this baby. I’m going to be a dedicated father and husband. Explaining our predicament to her parents is going to be difficult, but everything that comes afterward will be worth one tough conversation. I’ll never be good enough for her, but God forgive me, I’m relieved the choice has been taken out of my hands. Now she’s one hundred percent mine. The claim is set in stone.

I trail my knuckles down her cheeks. “Do you feel okay?”

My affection catches her off-guard. “I’m fine. Just scared.”

“No.” I lean down and kiss her forehead. “Don’t be scared. I’m going to take care of everything. We’ll get a place together and babyproof the hell out of it—”

“No.”

It takes me a second to register that whispered denial. “What do you mean no?”

She takes advantage of my momentary shock to slide out from between me and the building. “I mean…I already decided that if I’m pregnant, I’m going to do it on my own. Raise the baby.” Her chin notches up. “I have a place. My parents have money to help me with childcare. I don’t need you to help me out of some…sense of obligation. I would hate it.”

“Ripley.” Her name bursts out of me on an incredulous laugh. This can’t really be happening. “That is my child you’re carrying. If you think you’re raising them without me, you’re wrong. I’m going to be a part of their life and yours, so get used to the idea real fast.”

My niece has never been one to back down from an argument and this time is no exception. “All this time, you’ve stayed away from me so I wouldn’t get pregnant. You told me so that day in my bedroom. That’s how I know you don’t really want this—and that’s fine. I’m strong and resourceful. I can do it on my own.”

If I’d even remotely seen this argument coming, I could have been prepared for it. But not in a million years could I have expected Ripley to try and deny me the privilege of being involved with her pregnancy, her life, our child’s life. Jesus, I must have hurt her so badly. Yes, I can see that I have. Her chin is wobbling, though she’s trying to hide it. She holds the bag that surely contains a pregnancy test to her chest like a shield. I’m so angry at myself for causing her an ounce of pain and putting her out of my reach that I lash out. I become an aggressor, because fighting is all that I know. It’s how I survived most of my life.

“You’re not keeping me from you,” I rasp, catching her jaw in my hand. “Or this baby.”

“Why do you want to be involved?” she cries, her tears splashing down onto my inked knuckles. “I conned you, didn’t I? I tricked you.” Her eyelids fall, hiding the eyes I love most in the world. “Making you step up now wouldn’t be fair to you, Mase.”

My heart flips over.

Ah, now I see what’s really going on here. It’s her guilt pushing me away.