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"Me."

"This is a massive red flag," I tell Colston.

Colston nods solemnly. “The reddest.”

"I think I made a terrible mistake. Can I take the pregnancy back? Is there a return policy on his sperm?"

"I tried to warn you," Colston says, leaning against the counter. "The guy eats plain chicken breast and unseasoned broccoli because he genuinely likes it. He’s a monster."

Sumner rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth is twitching. "I eat for fuel. Not everything has to be covered in sugar."

"Wow," I say, crossing my arms and leaning away from him. "Next you're gonna tell me you hate puppies and sunshine."

"I like puppies," he counters. "Sunshine is fine. I just don't want a donut."

Colston sighs heavily and taps a few more buttons on his phone. "I'm ordering extra sprinkles just to spite you. Delivery is gonna be about forty-five minutes."

"Perfect," I say, trying to put the unsettling information I just learned out of my mind.

Sumner stands up, grabs a glass from the cupboard, and fills it with ice water. He slides it across the island, and I take a long drink. The freezing water hits my empty stomach, finally taking the edge off that manic, buzzing adrenaline. But as the adrenaline levels out, a heavy, very real weight settles in my chest.

Holy fuck. What do we do now?

CHAPTER 13

GOLDIE

Sumner settles back onto the stool beside me. He shifts his weight, angling his broad frame so he's fully facing me. His knee presses firmly against mine again the second he sits down, sending another zing of awareness straight up my thigh. He looks completely locked in.

"So," he says, his voice low and steady. "I know what I want. But you're the one doing all the hard work, and it's your body going through this. You get to call the shots. How do you want to handle the next steps?"

I trace a slow line through the condensation dripping down the side of my glass. Grant always treated me like a chaotic mess who couldn't handle basic things without his input. Whenever I tried to talk to him about planning for a family, he’d brush me off, scroll on his phone, or tell me we’d look into it later.

But Sumner is actively pulling up a chair to the table. He’s stepping back to give me the reins but making it crystal clear he’s entirely present. It’s overwhelming in the absolute best way.

"I googled it," I tell him. "I need to call my gynecologist on Monday and schedule a confirmation appointment. It's basically just a blood draw to check my levels and make sure everything is progressing the way it should."

Sumner pauses. His eyebrows lift, and then a slow smile curves his mouth. He looks at me with this intense, blazing pride that makes my insides light up like those Skechers I used to wear as a kid. "Of course you did."

"I’m very on top of my shit."

"I see that." His gaze drops to my mouth for a split second before dragging back up to my eyes. "Thank you for coming over this morning, Goldie. For letting me be here when you found out."

My throat gets tight. "You contributed half of the DNA. It seemed only fair."

"Still. I appreciate it.” He rubs a hand over his head again. “When you make the appointment, send me the date and time. I'll get my schedule cleared so I can be there."

"You don't have to do that," I say automatically. My hyper-independence flares up on pure instinct. "Like I said, it's literally just a blood draw."

"I know I don't have to." He holds my gaze, his expression unwavering. "But I want to. I want to be at every appointment. I don't want to miss a single second of this."

The air in the room shifts, leaving behind a tension so sharp I could probably cut my finger on it. I'm completely trapped in his stare, my pulse pounding in my ears… and between my thighs.

A loud knock on the front door totally kills the vibe.

Colston groans loudly from the other side of the island, dropping his head back. "Oh, come on! It was just getting good.” He points at Sumner then wags his finger between us. “As you were." He pushes off the counter and heads for the door. "I'll get the damn donuts."

By the time Colston drops the pink boxes onto the island, my stomach could rival an alligator for how loud it’s growling.