A Million Little Things (Mischief Bay, #3)

Pam thought about all that had happened. All the things she’d said and hadn’t said directly. She decided the only way to make things right was to say all the things that had to be said.

“If you marry Steven and then get a divorce, he has no rights over the baby,” she began. “Even if he raised the child and loved him or her, he gets nothing. He has to walk away. What if it’s a little girl who adores him and he needs her in his life? What if it’s been ten years or fifteen? He’ll be destroyed.”

Zoe drew in a breath. “Chad isn’t going to sign away his rights. Steven can’t adopt the child.”

Not news, but disappointing all the same. “That’s what I worry about. Him getting hurt. Chad will always be the father.” Her mouth twisted. “I remember how excited John was when I told him I was pregnant for the first time. We went through all that together. He and I. We’d created a life. It was something we shared—would always share. Steven doesn’t have that either.”

Zoe wiped away tears. “You want me to let him go. I don’t think I can.”

Pam searched her heart before answering. The easy answer was yes, they should break up. But she’d lived long enough to understand there weren’t usually easy answers. “No, I want you to understand that however much you’ve loved your baby, I’ve loved Steven just as much, but for longer. Years and years. I look at you and see a young woman I like very much. But I’m so afraid.”

“Afraid enough to stand between us?”

“I’ve already tried that,” she admitted. “It didn’t work out well. I’ve tried to keep him safe and that’s not working either. Now I have to accept what you two want.” She angled toward Zoe. “I’m happy if you love him. It’s everything else that concerns me. I was wrong to judge you. I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry I tried to convince him not to see you anymore. But I won’t apologize for worrying about Steven. It’s part of my job.”

“Because you’re his mom.”

Pam nodded. “Can we make peace with all that between us?”

Zoe’s eyes were bright with tears. “I think we should try.”

*

Zoe spent the afternoon researching fume-free paint and looking at furniture for babies. After Pam’s visit, there was no way she was going to get any work done. About four, she went outside and looked at her garden, at the tiny plants so recently planted. She put her hand on her belly and knew that in a few short weeks, she would feel the first stirrings of life growing inside of her.

Pam hadn’t been wrong. The truth was a bitch, but there it was, staring her in the face. Pam hadn’t been wrong to worry, to question, to want to protect Steven. Her points were all good ones. If she and Steven kept going the way they were going—if they were in love, it was reasonable to think they could get married. And then what? This child that he would help raise from birth would never be his. If the worst happened and they broke up, the most Steven could hope for was some kind of visitation. And the odds were against it. Which meant he was putting more on the line for her than she was for him.

She knew she was getting ahead of herself. That things were still really new between them, but she also understood what he was looking for and she couldn’t help hoping he’d found it with her.

The baby complicated everything and yet she couldn’t wish it away.

Funny how so much had changed so quickly. Six months ago, she was breaking up with Chad and wondering what she was supposed to do without him. Now she had a new career path, a baby on the way and a wonderful man who loved her.

She felt something brush against her calf and glanced down. She smiled. “And you, Mason. I still have you.”

Her cat meowed at her, as if telling her not to forget that.

“Do you think you’re going to like children?”

The slow green-eyed blink could easily be interpreted as a yes, she thought with a chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

She turned and saw Steven walking toward her. He held two reusable grocery bags in his hands. Cut flowers were sticking out of one.

She hurried toward him. After taking one of the bags, she raised herself up on tiptoe and kissed him. “You’re early.”

“I know. I kept thinking about you, so I ducked out of work and here I am.” He raised the bag he still held. “Ingredients for a garden salad, along with cut fruit, all organic. Free-range chicken and a recipe for a quick marinade that my mom texted me. She says it’s delicious.”

He put his arm around Zoe and guided her toward the house. “I’ve been pissed at her and haven’t talked to her since she’s been back, and then she goes and texts me marinade recipes. I’m a bad son.”

“You’re not. You’ve been very protective of me and I appreciate it.”

“I love you, Zoe. What else would I be?”

What else indeed?

They’d reached the kitchen. She put down her bag, then took his and set it on the counter, as well. Then she took his hands in hers and led him to the kitchen table.

“We have to talk,” she told him. “I have to say a few things.”

His dark gaze never left her face. “Should I be worried?”

“No. It’s not like that. I want us to be sure.”

They were sitting close enough for their knees to touch. She studied his face—the handsome lines, the strength of him. He was calm, capable and affectionate. He loved his family, his country and he took care of his employees. He was, by all definitions, a good man.

“I love you,” she began.

He smiled. “Yeah?”

She nodded, but when he reached for her, she shook her head. “Let me finish. I love you, Steven. I’m so lucky to have found you.” She raised a shoulder. “Or rather I’m so lucky your mom threw us together. You’ve been wonderful. But the baby complicates things.”

“I’m okay with the baby.”

“I believe you. We’ve talked about it so many times. I know you understand in your head what’s going to happen, but I’m less sure about your heart. I need you to be completely sure that you’re willing to do all this because you love me and not because you want to be a hero.”