He groans and winces, and his body twitches on the bed. I snatch up the water glass by his bedside and tip it to his lips. After a couple tries, he works his throat enough to get some liquids down.
“Let’s try this again,” I soothe. “Can you speak?”
“Stop asking me shit,” he whispers, then he lets out a huge breath as if he’s run a marathon, and makes a pained noise.
I can’t help laughing at his first words. There’s nothing really wrong with him, nothing so severe that he’s lost his sense of sarcasm. His gaze sweeps across my face, then he closes his eyes again.
“You need your rest, but it’s a good sign that you’re responsive. Can you do one more thing for me before you go back to sleep?”
“I don’t think mounting me is a great idea yet, doll, but I’m up for trying.”
I grin through my tears, glad he hasn’t said a word about anything too serious. “Smartass. You’ve been a real pain, buddy.”
“And you’ve missed me,” he says weakly.
We’re both silent. I can’t lie to him. He takes a few more sips of water that I offer him, moving his arms across his chest and resettling against the pillows. I know deep down it’s now or never. There’s a conversation we very much need to have, and if he’s vulnerable, he has to listen to whatever I have to say. Which is so much the better for the both of us.
“Tate, I’m keeping the baby. I’m going to raise our son…and I’d really like you to be a part of that…with me, as a family.” I swallow, twisting my hands in my lap. I straighten my spine, lift my chin slightly, and get ready for his rejection. “I know you and I have a different lifestyle…I’m not asking you to change anything. I’d just like you to be in our son’s life when you have time. If you have time.” I glance at the carpet. Even with his eyes closed, I’m not sure I can look at him while he seems to process what I said. Too much is laid out on the table. I can’t take it back now. “I know this isn’t the ideal scenario, but it is what it is…” I trail off, realizing I’m babbling and haven’t given him a second to say a word.
I wonder why I said a damn thing at all after a minute passes, but then remember I’ve given him the silent treatment for two weeks. This is probably his way of making me stew.
Bastard.
Chapter 28
Tate
I clutch my chest. It hurts to breathe like a son of a bitch, but it has nothing to do with my injury and everything to do with the last three minutes hearing Molly lay it on the line. For a second I’m scared shitless, fearful that maybe this is a dream. If it is a dream, I don’t want to wake up, because in this fantasy, the woman of my dreams is offering me everything I’ve ever wanted with no strings attached. Except, I want those strings, in a big way. Despite the fire raging through my chest cavity, I swallow through my parched throat. Water only goes so far at a time like this.
One thing is for damn sure. I’m not letting Molly or our son go. Ever.
“Do you want to know what I thought about after I got shot and was sure I was a goner?”
I don’t really expect an answer. She’s still sniffling, but she asks, “What?”
“You and our baby. Being so close to dying made me sure that the only thing I want is a life with you in it. You and our son. I don’t care what I have to do to make it happen. I will.” I hear her sputter, and her shaking fingers fumble for my hand, clinging to me more tightly. When she rests her head on my shoulder, and her breathing calms down, I continue. “Because you’re mine, and you deserve the best. We’ll make this work. Trust me.”
Her hand reaches up to my face, and her fingers trace from my temple down to my jawbone until my whole body goes taut, my cock included. If I can get a goddamn boner now, then she’s definitely a keeper. Old lady material to the core.
“Do you really mean it?”
“Yes. I don’t say shit I don’t mean.”
“No. It’s just…”
“Not that simple?” I finish for her with a sigh that nearly tears my chest cavity. “We’ll work it out. Day by day. We don’t have to rush into anything.”