“I—I don’t want to crush you or…” Could he hurt her?
She cupped his face. “I want you right here. This is where you belong.”
He touched his forehead to hers, moved the bulk of his weight off of her then slid down to rest his cheek against her chest. “Last night sucked.”
“I know. And I’m the reason for it. I’m sorry, big guy. I handled everything wrong.” She threaded her fingers through his hair with long strokes and just the tease of nails.
He couldn’t help the groan. They knew everything about each other’s bodies, but still hadn’t caught up with the important things like communication. He dragged the back of his knuckles up her arm, catching a glint of his wedding ring. They still had their marriage training wheels on.
“We handled everything wrong.” Unable to think about anything but crushing her or…Christ. Baby. It’s a word. Say it, asshat. He rolled them until she was splayed across him, their legs tangled.
“I got worried when I woke up and you were gone. I’m sorry I fell asleep last night. Before we…” She laced their fingers, squeezing tight. “Before we could talk.”
He brushed a kiss over her temple. “It probably worked out for the best. I wasn’t sure what to say last night. I’m still not sure how to feel.”
She propped her chin on his chest. “I don’t either. I haven’t even thought about having kids.”
His chest ached at her words. “Not even a passing thought?”
Harper smoothed her thumb over his brow. “I assumed we would later. You’d make an amazing father. I already know that much.” Her eyes were steady, and there was a world of truth there in her eyes. “Do you want kids?”
When her thumb curved down to his cheek and she cupped his face, he felt no shame in the blink of tears that formed. He’d always wanted a family. “You know I came from a shitty home life.”
She nodded. “You don’t talk about your family much. When you told me your mom wasn’t coming to the wedding, I didn’t want to push too hard. I should have.”
He shrugged. “I wish there was something to tell. She was just…absent. We moved from guy to guy, you knew that much.”
“Yeah, you told me in the truck during one of our food heart to hearts.”
He swiped his free hand down her back. “I don’t ever want to do that to a kid. Make him or her feel less than completely wanted.” He stared up at the canopy over their four poster bed. “There were times when she forgot about me for days. Left me behind in the apartment while she partied and trolled for the next guy.”
Harper angled his face back down to hers. Her eyes were white hot with a sheen of tears. “That will never be us. Ever.”
“Isn’t it?” He cleared his throat. “Right now, this baby isn’t being celebrated.” He huffed out a strangled breath. “Do you think he or she knows? Even now?”
Eleven
Mr. & Mrs. McCoy
Harper rolled away from him. “Oh, God.” She grabbed the t-shirt that had landed on the corner of the bed and crossed the room, holding onto her middle.
“Harper, wait.”
She shook her head and reached blindly for the small island in the kitchen. Who could ever leave behind someone like Deacon? It explained so much. Why he was such a caretaker to all of them. Why he loved so big and so very hard.
But to think about that with them. With this little nebulous piece inside of her. They were so twisted up about it. There was no way she wanted him to take this on. That level of guilt.
He came up behind her, his arms folding around her gently. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, babe.”
Would it have been better to just take care of it on her own? To have never told him? She wasn’t sure she’d ever get that look out of her mind. The soul deep sadness in his eyes at the thought of her—them—not wanting this baby.
The unfairness of it rolled over her.
She couldn’t do this to him.
She turned in his arms, her cheek pressed into his chest as she held on tight. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Numb feet and the soft sway of them together gave her a clue that it was probably far longer than the minute it felt like.
“Part of me wishes I hadn’t told you.”
She heard the broken glass tone of her own voice. She stared out the window to the swaying hammock and the ocean forever rolling up the beach.
“Harper.”
She could hear—feel the disappointment in his voice. But this was the time for honesty. “It’s early into the pregnancy. There’s things that can be done.”
She heard him swallow, felt the race of his heart.
“You researched it already? Without talking to me?”
“No. It was DJ. She’s done it.” She held him tighter. “God, she made it sound so easy. And all I could think was…Deacon is just about to explode on the scene. A new album. I’m going to ruin everything.”