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Because she’s sick and struggling, you dumbass. Because you got her pregnant.
Bram got that queasy feeling again. He stopped on the sidewalk, resting his hands on his hips.
He had no idea how to be a father. His own was gruff and tough and closed off. Bram was all too aware how much like his father he was.
And he hadn’t been much of a son or brother either.
Old, faded pain pricked at him. He breathed through it. After his mom and Fiona had died, he and his father had fallen farther apart.
Bram wasn’t made for relationships or love. He couldn’t give much to a baby.
But he was good at fighting, killing, and security. He’d keep Addie and the child safe.
He strode over to his truck, scanning the street out of habit. He slid into the driver’s seat, but he didn’t start the engine. He wasn’t going anywhere.
He couldn’t bear the thought of being too far from Addie. He’d stay right here for the night and keep watch.
He slid his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small, wooden carving. It fit in the palm of his hand. It was a ballerina in a tutu, arms raised.Addie. The dancer didn’t have a face, but the shape of it, the gentle curves of her body, were pure Addie. He’d made it—his secret little hobby that he’d never told anyone about. He’d always been good with his hands.
Turning the tiny statue over, he imagined her smiling.
His phone vibrated and his pulse leaped. Maybe it was Addie? He slipped the carving back into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
“Hellfire” was written on the screen. He shook his head. He was still more than a little bemused by Devyn “Hellfire” Hawke.
His boss’ new wife was a little wild, a hell of a CIA agent, fearless, and a whole lot of stubborn. After saving each other’s backs on a mission in San Francisco, she’d decided they were new best friends.
Bram didn’t have a best friend. He hung out with Nick, Matteo, and Killian from work. They were good guys, even if they couldn’t keep up with him when he opened a bottle of good Irish whiskey.
You okay, big guy?
Fine.
If you didn’t hear, I just snorted. You can’t be okay. You just found your girl and found out you’re going to be a dad.
Bram scowled. He hated texting. Still, it was better than actually talking.
I’m fine.
Don’t make me come over there.
You don’t know where I am.
Bram, I’m a former spy turned new co-owner of Sentinel Security. I can find you.
He sighed.
I can’t be a dad. I’ll fuck it up.
You don’t know that.
My dad isn’t that great. I’m not good with people. And I know nothing about babies.
No one knows anything about babies until you have one of your own. Bram, you’re protective, and under the gruff, you care. That’s all you need. And Addie will help. You’re in this together.
She thinks I rejected her. I’m not sure she even wants me around. I don’t know what to say to her.
Show her you want her. You don’t have to talk. She liked you enough to let you get her pregnant, so I think you’ll be fine.
