Page 7 of Pink and Country

No camera flashes.

No interviews.

No screaming fans.

No underdressed groupies or crazy stalkers after me.

No Savannah or pretended nonsense.

I handed Dahlia a glass of wine and clamped her wrist to pull her into my chest, taking a whiff of her floral fragrance. The same one she’d been wearing for the last ten years. The one reminding me of her every time I smelled fresh flowers. “How are you doing? For real.”

Dahlia offered me a shy smile. “I’m fine.” Without taking a sip, she put the wineglass on the counter beside her, avoiding my gaze.

“Come on, it’s me, Dah. You can tell me anything. No woman who says she’s fine is ever fine.” She huffed a laugh. “What is it?” I cocked my head to the side, meeting her watery eyes.

Tears streamed down her face, and my heartbeat kicked up a notch. She swallowed a big gulp of air, met my eyes, and spoke through her sobs. “Carter, I’m pregnant.” Cradling her face with my hands, I stared at her. I studied her green eyes, the curve of her lips, the blush on her cheeks. My throat tightened, and my lungs idled. I blinked, desperate to keep my emotions in check and my composure intact. Everything inside me screamed in pain. My stomach twisted, my heart bled, and a pulse on the side of my head blurred my vision. My skin felt too tight.

It was a fucking déjà vu . A nightmare. My hands balled on my sides, itching to toss something against the wall. Relax, Carter. Breathe in. Breathe out.

I cleared my throat, my mouth as dry as California during a drought. “Are they happy or sad tears, Dah?” I usually had no trouble reading her face. Not this time. Her flowing tears confused me. A lot. Women’s simplest emotions were always the hardest to figure out.

“Happy,” Dahlia sniffled.

“Why the tears, then?” My hands clamped her waist, and my lips dropped a soft kiss on her forehead.

“I was scared to tell you. I didn’t know how you’d react.” Dahlia looped her arms around my midsection and buried her face into my chest. My hands traced circles on her back. “I know how it’ll affect you. I’m sorry you have to find out this way. You know I’m the worst liar when it comes to you, Carter.” My heart quivered in my chest, and goosebumps popped all over my skin. I breathed slowly, keeping my boiling emotions at bay. Dahlia deserved her happily ever after. I had no say in her life. I knew it. But sometimes, I forgot.

“If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” My pulse slowed down, and the knots in my chest slackened. Air flowed in and out of my lungs easier. I tipped her chin up and looked into her eyes. “What about the weight loss? You don’t seem so fine to me.”

“Morning sickness. Remember how it was with Jack. I couldn’t get out of the house for weeks.” A lopsided smile twitched my lips at the memory.

“How’s Nick?”

“He’s ecstatic. He’s a wonderful dad to Jack. I love him, and he’s good to me.” Dahlia and Nick got married two years ago. The summer before I embarked on my ride to hell with Savannah Prince.

They had an intimate ceremony here, in the mountains, with only a few people in attendance. I shed a tear that day. My heart ached at the sight of my best friend in a white dress for the second time. However, it also allowed me to let go of the buried feelings—well, some of them—I bottled in long ago. Dahlia, Nick, and Jack were a family. Who was I to mess with their happiness? I trusted Nick to care for the two persons I loved the most in this world.

I sighed. On their wedding day, I wished it could’ve been me up there at the altar. Today, this feeling re-emerged. I wished this baby was mine.

We sat on the loveseat before the fireplace, entangled in blankets, just like old times. Dahlia’s head rested in my lap, and my fingers smoothed her red hair, twisting strands around my fingers.

“I love you, Carter. It’ll never change. Time for you to be happy too.” Dahlia yawned, and I stayed silent. My pulse spiked. I swallowed the boulder-sized lump asphyxiating me and locked my uneasiness away in my aching heart.

Life would change for all of us. Things would never be the same again.

A baby.

Another man’s baby. His. Not mine.

Knots tied my stomach. Dahlia and Jack were no longer mine.

I blinked fast, not wanting any emotion to unsettle me.

With a tightness in my chest, I tilted my head back against the headrest and fell asleep to the steady rhythm of Dahlia’s breathing.

3

April