Page 108 of The Trouble with Flings

He really is going to be the best father. “Did it help?”

“I think it helped Bell. She slept better and smiled more. She needed something to believe in so she didn’t feel abandoned, and I think venting helped Keira have a place to put her anger. I thought it was a perfect plan, until one night when Bellamy was having a hell of a time, and there wasn’t a single star in the sky, which really set her off. She’s a tiny thing, but she’s ten feet tall with fangs and claws when she’s mad.”

“I’ll remember that.”

He smiles. “That night, I strung lights around my mom’s backyard, and they became our substitute when the stars weren’t out.”

I look up at the lights, thinking about Fitz trying to be ten steps ahead for his siblings at sixteen years old. When I was that age, I could barely see past my rebellion. I can’t imagine trying to take care of anyone else. “What about you? Did any of that help?”

“Yeah. It showed me that nobody was coming to save me, and I needed to figure shit out myself.” He clears his throat and lifts his chin, as if ending that conversation, and says, “I’m going to start a fire.” He drapes the blanket around my shoulders and heads for the fire pit.

My heart hurts for his younger self, and I realize I never want our child to feel the way we did. “Hey, Fitz?”

He turns, brows lifting in question.

“Let’s promise each other to always pay attention to our child’s moods.”

“I’m all for that, wild girl, but don’t be heartbroken when our kid says we don’t know shit.”

“Fair point,” I say, and we share a knowing smile at that harsh truth. “Why do I have the sudden urge to apologize to my parents for every rotten thing I ever did?”

“Because that guarded heart of yours is becoming a mama heart, and that makes you see everything differently. Knowing I’m going to be a father has definitely made me see things differently.”

“What did I tell you about being too perfect?” I call after him.

He just laughs and starts making the fire.

The sounds of the waves rise up from below in a steady rhythm. I drift a little farther out on the patio, drawn to the view. The ocean stretches as far as the eye can see, the inky expanse broken only by the soft shimmer of moonlight. Far off in the distance, the lighthouse beam sweeps through the darkness like a silent guardian.

It’s peaceful here, in that same calming way Fitz is.

I take a few deep breaths, feeling the tension that has lived in my shoulders for as long as I can remember start to ease. I wrap the blanket tighter around myself, wanting to hold on to the sheer beauty of this night and all its collective moments. I glance at Fitz, patiently coaxing the fire to life, and I can’t help thinking how lucky the baby and I are to be in this position with him.

I look out at the water again before my emotions get the best of me and close my eyes as a breeze sweeps over the point. I inhale deeply and feel Fitz’s presence behind me before his hands settle on my waist. The blanket falls from my shoulders, catching on his arms.

“I’m going to fence this in before our little bean is born,” he says.

Always ten steps ahead. “You have lots of time before he’s toddling around.”

“You think it’s a boy?” he asks with surprise.

“I didn’t realize I said he. I haven’t really thought about it. Have you?”

“Every minute of the day,” he admits. “I think we’re having a girl.”

The idea that he thinks about the baby all the time makes me a little lightheaded. “God, I hope not,” I say. “I’m pretty sure my sisters and I were a hundred times harder than my brothers.”

“I doubt that.”

“Actually, I’d put money on the fact that I was a thousand times harder than any of them.”

He laughs. “That makes you qualified to parent a stubborn, rebellious little girl.”

“And you’ll be the beloved girl dad?” I say sarcastically. “I see where this is heading, Silver.”

He chuckles against my neck and slides his hands over my stomach. Self-conscious about my expanding waistline, I try to move them, but he presses his hands tighter against me, spreading them over my belly.

“No hiding,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “Your body is our baby’s fortress, its lifeline.”