“If you’re lucky, buddy, it’ll be your momma.”
He blinks, continuing to stare at me. Probably like I’d do if someone walked up to me and started speaking Russian.
“You and me? We’re in this together. We’re gonna make your momma so happy she won’t know what hit her.”
Another blink.
Who knew blinking babies could be so damn endearing?
“Well, you’ve got a few people in there who are eager to meet you, buddy. Mrs. Mayfield doesn’t like me much. That’s okay though. I think you just may help out with that. Joe’s solid, a stand-up guy who doesn’t talk too much and plays a mean game of pool. I’d keep you from Sunny and Sam as long as I could…if I could. They’re wacky but good people.”
I’m barely onto the porch with the car seat when four bodies crowd in close, all wanting to get a look at him.
Huddling Branson behind me, I whisper in exasperation, “Back the hell off or the baby’s going back in the car.”
As quickly as they came in like vultures, they back away. Joe’s grinning at me, his knowing smile a welcome presence. Mrs. Mayfield also smiles at me, which is a bit odd.
“Knox is right,” she says. “We musn’t startle the baby.”
“Let’s settle in the living room,” Amelia suggests, and they all follow into the house after her.
To Branson, whose eyelids are already drooping, I mutter, “Don’t worry, buddy. I won’t let them hog you for long.”
I swear he smiles at me, but do two-day-olds smile? I’m probably just imagining it. Not surprising seeing as I’ve gotten about three hours of sleep since I left Nashville.
I’m reluctant to hand the baby over when I enter the living room, but since Mrs. Mayfield did me a solid, I place him in her arms.
Figuring this is the best time to make my move, I head towards the door. But then Amelia calls out to me.
“Where are you going? Didn’t you already bring everything inside?”
“Not quite.”
Her brow furrows. I don’t explain. She’ll understand soon enough.
She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s not rid of me. Not by a longshot. And I make that clear when I head out to my car, grab my luggage, and bring it inside.
The welcoming party continues as I pass by Amelia, whose eyes narrow in my direction. I can practically feel her fury radiating at my back, and I’m not surprised she’s following me into her room.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she hisses, her tone rigid.
My eyes dart past her. “You sure you wanna do this with an audience?”
She pushes into the room and silently closes the door. We’re nearly chest-to-chest, with just enough space between us for her to poke me.
“I asked you a question. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I move away from her, giving her some space. Do I want Amelia to attack me, climb me like I’m a fucking tree? Hell yeah. Do I want it while her claws are out? Well, actually, yeah, I do. But do I want her doing it when she’s a couple days postpartum?
Hell fucking no.
“I’m movin’ in,” I tell her as nonchalantly as possible, all while bracing myself for the impact of her inevitable rage.
“Excuse me? No freaking way. Thank you for the ride home. Now, get the hell out of my house and out of my life.”
Her animosity stirs my own temper, which I think was her intent. “You got rid of me once before. Never again.” I point towards the living room. “Babe, that little bundle of unexpected joy out there is half mine. My son. If you think I’m fucking going anywhere, you’ve lost your damn mind. Try and get rid of me. I dare you. You won’t like the result.”
Dark eyes flash with fury. “Who are you? You weren’t like this last summer. If you think I’m going to let some overbearing asshole manhandle his way into my home, you have another thing coming, buddy.”
“Did the pregnancy cause amnesia?” Her eyes flash with anger, but I don’t give a damn right now. “Because from what I recall, you didn’t mind me overbearing or manhandling last summer. Don’t go changing history.”
She huffs, folding her arms across her chest. “Don’t you have a completely different future you need to get back to? Just because mine’s changed doesn’t mean yours has to. Trust me, we’ll be fine here without you.”
Oh, for fucks sake. Screw space. If Amelia needs to attack, I’ll take my licks.
I cross the room and kneel before her. However, she won’t even meet my eyes. God, I knew I’d have my work cut out for me, but damn. She’s got her shit locked up tight and I have no idea if I’ll be able to get back in. But I won’t give up until I do.
“Amelia, look at me.”
Her jaw’s tight, and she defies me. Still fucking cute.
“Please,” I say when really I want to order, Now.
She swallows hard but eventually gives in. Dark circles ring her eyes, and I vow to make this transition as easy on her as possible.
“Who I am is a desperate man with a woman and a son to protect. To care for. I don’t care about my shit at home. What I care about is the two of you. So I’m gonna stay here for as long as it takes. You can’t say your future has changed and mine hasn’t. That’s fucking bullshit and you know it. You’re my future. Our son is my future. Get used to it, sweetheart.”
Okay, I could use a little more tact, but I’m too fucking irritated to rein it in anymore.
“You can’t just decide you’re moving in. Don’t I have a say?”
“No,” I growl, and just as she’s about to protest, I cover her mouth with my hand. “Just fucking hear me out, Melia.”
She sets her chin and pushes my hand away but doesn’t make a peep.
“He’s my son. And you’re my woman. I’m not staying with you because of the baby. I came back because I can’t live without you. He’s just bonus. You’ve gotta get that through your thick head, babe.”
“I’m sorry, Knox. I don’t believe you,” she says, her voice breaking enough to tell me she’s lying—either to herself or me, but it doesn’t matter.
I want to groan. I thought I’d gotten through to her last night; clearly a restful night of sleep didn’t do the wonders for her mental clarity that I hoped it would.
“Yes, you do,” I insist. “You’re just too damn stubborn to admit it.”
Her eyes flash. It’s a mixture of irritation, surprise, and bewilderment. As if she thought I’d just let them go. As if she can’t believe I want to stay. As if she’s damn pissed I called her out, because as much as she wants to not believe me, she knows me better. She knows I’m right and it angers the hells out of her.
Scares the hell out of her.
“It’s fucking true, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you. Amelia, I did the one thing that I made you promise not to do. I should’ve said it before. I lo—”
This time, it’s Amelia’s hand that covers my mouth, drowning out the declaration that’s been in my heart for nearly the past year.
“No. I don’t want to hear it. Not now. Too much has happened. You’re not thinking straight. You’re just shell-shocked about the baby.”