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I shake my head. “This can wait. She needs a night away from all this crap.”

“And you’re taking over, just like that? I don’t get a say in what’s good for her? Or how about letting her decide?”

I turn and open the front door. “That’s my kid in there, and I’m not letting you stress her out. We have her doctor's appointment tomorrow and I want her chill for it." I'm already closing the door. "Deal with it, Andy. However you can,” I say and shut the door.

It’s not the wisest move. Miranda won’t be happy, but I don’t currently care. Tilly isn’t eating or sleeping nearly as much as she should, and I hate to see her so affected. For good measure, I lock the door, even though Miranda has a key. She’s trying to be respectful by knocking, and I appreciate that, but there’s no way I’m going to let her ruin our night.

I have big plans for our night alone. Something I hope will make Tilly very happy. I strip my pants back off and hurry down the hall. But when I arrive, Tilly is lying on her side, snoring deeply. Despite the growing erection at the sight of her still pushed-up dress exposing her gorgeous ass, I flip the light switch. I snuggle up behind her and put my hand on her stomach. We’ll hopefully have the rest of our lives to make love. If she’s tired, I certainly will let her sleep.

Chapter thirty-nine

Tilly

Icreep out of bed after Tommy steps outside. Every word Miranda says, I hear, and Tommy is right—I wish I hadn’t. If Keaton isn’t listening to Tia, I’m truly in trouble. He’s a nasty person, and not one I want doing whatever he wants. After sneaking back in bed, I pretend to be asleep. Once Tommy is behind me, cradling my stomach and baby, I let a few tears fall before gently prying his hand off me. Not wanting to worry him, I write a quick note and leave it on the table, still cluttered with the delicious remnants of his sweet dinner.

I need help and know where to get it. Leaving the house, I get into Tommy’s rental and start driving. It’s a long way to Irvine, especially so late at night, and I’m tired. My eyes keep growing blurry, but I continue without stopping. Once I arrive, I climb out of the car and take a deep breath as I look at the huge house. Giant hedges line the pathway to the front door, but I have determined steps and press the doorbell.

It takes several rings before the door swings open. My grandfather stands there in a deep burgundy robe, his hair a little askew from sleep. “Matilda? What in God’s name are you doing here?” I throw my arms around his neck. “Papa,” is all I manage to choke out.

“Okay, okay.” He shushes me as I cry on his shoulder. “Come inside, let’s get you warmed up.” I pull away and wipe my eyes before stepping into his house. Everything is dark, but I follow close behind him. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in his home. Still, everything looks unchanged. He has dark maple furniture and regal portraits of his two kids and their families. It smells like rich cedar and vanilla, a pleasant aroma that reminds me of him.

He leads me to the living room and turns on a lamp. Gesturing to the couch, he smiles and takes a seat in his recliner. “Now, what are you doing here?” Through many tears, I explain what happened. My grandfather’s face only grows more concerned and serious. When I’m done, he stares at the wall opposite him.

“And does Tia have any reason to not trust you?” My gaze drops to the floor. He lets out a sigh. “I see.”

“What should I do, Papa? I can’t leave again, not while I’m pregnant, but I’m worried that Keaton… that he’ll…” I sob into my palms.

“What, my dear? What could Keaton do to his own cousin?”

“What he did to Grayson’s wife,” I say it before realizing what I’m accusing. His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t argue, just studies me with fierce eyes. “Be careful, my dear. Things cannot be unsaid. Grayson’s wife ran away, and we let her go because she wasn’t truly family.”

I shake my head. “She would never leave George like that, and you know it.” He adjusts in his chair and lets out a long sigh. “What exactly are you doing that Tia won’t like?”

Taking a deep breath, I try to steady my voice. “I’m working with… someone.” The implication is clear, and I meet his eyeline. He's scrutinizing me with an intense stare, daring me to elaborate. But I won't. Instead, I put a hand on my belly. Little man is awake and kicking like crazy. I haven’t eaten enough today, and the sensation is making me nauseous. The bigger I get, the more often that seems to happen.

My grandfather sighs and puts his forehead in one hand. “This is quite a mess, Matilda.”

“I know.”

Shaking his head, he says, “But… I can talk to Tia.” I start to interject, but my grandfather holds up a hand. “I won’t let her know what’s going on, but maybe I can convince her to not run money through the surf shop.” My head recoils at his words. He isn’t understanding. I’m not worried about Tia getting in trouble; I’m worried that it won’t work, that Tia will go free and torment me and my family forever.

“No, Papa, I need it to work. I need her to trust me.”

He scoots to the edge of his chair and points a finger at me. “Matilda, that is out of the question. You understand that we would all go to jail. Grayson? Miranda? Me? You’re willing to do that?”

His tone is all wrong, and I suddenly realize I might have made a mistake. “Papa, it doesn’t matter. It’s not working anyway.” I get to my feet.

“And it won’t. I will talk to Tia. I'll fix everything. Would you like to stay here tonight?” I shake my head. I want nothing but to get back to my warm bed with my boyfriend. My grandfather rises as well.

We walk to the front door, but I feel his eyes on me. When we get to the front door, he puts a hand on my forearm, his grip a little too tight, and kisses my cheek.

“Drive safe, my dear. And don't worry, this will be corrected.” His tone leaves no room for doubt. I step outside into the moonlight. Though it’s probably sixty degrees, a chill works over my body. I close my eyes as the door closes and locks behind me. Somehow, I know I’ve just made things ten times worse.

Chapter forty

Tommy

Isit next to Tilly in a small, sterile room. She lies on an exam table, her stomach exposed as a technician runs a sonogram wand over her belly. I pull her hand to my mouth and give it a soft kiss, my eyes unblinking as I stare at the screen.

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