He hands me a card. “Willow, you let me know if he gives you any more trouble.”
Dallas’s defeated gaze focuses on me after he shuts the door, and his jaw twitches. “That fucker telling the truth?”
“Huh?” My brain is so exhausted, I don’t catch the severity of his question.
“Is he telling the truth about him being the father?”
My heart races. “Are you kidding me? You believe him?”
“I don’t know what to believe. He seemed pretty damn adamant about it.”
“If you want to believe him, be my guest. Leave. I planned on doing this by myself from day one, and I have no problem going through with that plan. I don’t need you or Brett. I’m a woman who has her shit together. I have a good job and don’t need to fucking baby-trap a guy.” I shake my head. “Fucking trust me, it would’ve been much easier to do this on my own.”
“Don’t say that,” he growls.
I cock my head toward the door. “Leave. I’ll take care of this supposed illegitimate baby on my own.”
“Don’t.” He grabs my hand in his. “Don’t say that. You can’t be pissed at me for asking. I asked, you told me the truth, I believe you.”
I release his hold and shove him away from me. “The fact that you even doubted me is bullshit.”
This is too much to handle right now. My hands are shaking in anger. I should’ve punched Brett in the face.
Dallas throws his arms in the air. “I’m sorry. It’s been a rough fucking week. I came over to make things right with you, and that asshole was here.”
“He showed up, unannounced! It’s not like I invited him.”
He grabs my hand, leads me across the room, and situates me on the couch. I hold my breath when he falls next to me and then drags me into his chest. I relax against him, and my heart calms when he starts massaging my neck.
“Why does it seem like the world’s against us?” I whisper.
“It’s not.” He places a kiss on my neck. “People go through trials and tribulations, but we’ll be okay. We can get through this because we have each other to lean on. It fucking killed me for you to think I blamed you for losing our baby. I was hurt. Upset. Expressing my emotions isn’t something I excel at.” He chuckles. “Those words came from Lauren, not me.”
“That makes two of us.”
I drop my head back on his shoulder to see him, and my body relaxes when he kisses away the tears hitting my cheeks.
“How about we start the night over?” he asks. “Let’s act like your douche bag of an ex with bangs longer than yours didn’t come here.”
I reach up to circle my hand around his neck and bring him down for a kiss. “You have no idea how great that sounds.”
I planned on telling him we needed to stick to being friends tonight, but that’s all changed. Brett slapped some reality into me. I could turn my back on Dallas and have to deal with more men like Brett because I’m too scared to get close to someone capable of love, or I could spend my time with a man who has a heart.
Things might not work out with us.
Things might go wrong.
But being with him feels much better than being alone.
We stay on the couch and talk about everything that’s happened since we last saw each other. Maven is feeling better and is back to her usual self. She’s been asking hundreds of questions about where I am.
Dallas tucks me into bed and turns around to leave.
“Are you not staying the night?” I ask, disappointed.
He smiles. “Hell yes, I am. But I need to get rid of those ugly-ass flowers first.”
I can’t help but laugh. I needed that.
He comes back with an even brighter smile on his face, and I arch my brows in question.
“You baked me cookies,” he states.
“Tried to.” I frown. “They’re a little burned.”
“You do like me.”
We spend the rest of the night eating burned cookies in bed.
“Maven misses you,” he whispers in my ear.
It’s morning, and the faint ray of sunlight peeks through the windows as we lie in bed. My hand is in his. My legs are a wild mess across his. It feels good to have him back here.
I shut my eyes. “I miss her. Tell her I’ll be seeing her soon.” His hand tightens around mine, and I sigh. “So, this is what grief feels like.”
No wonder Dallas was so miserable when Lucy died. This pain is what he was feeling. This void in my heart is what he was going through.
“Losing someone isn’t fun.” His breathing slows. “I just wish we could’ve met him even if it was for only a minute.”
His eyes are on me when I shift to rest my chin on his warm chest and smile up at him. I sag against his body when his arms wrap around my back, and he settles me next to him, his fingers tracing my spine.
“Him?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Is it bad I was convinced we were having a boy?”
I can feel his thick breathing when I stroke his chest. “I was so convinced we were having a girl, I had a name picked out.”
“Is it Daphne?” he asks, and I can feel his laughter through his chest. “She can hang out with Scooby, and they’ll chase ghosts together.”
An even bigger roar of laughter comes from his chest when I pinch his nipple. “No!” I follow his lead, feeling it coming from the bottom of my stomach, and damn, does it feel good for something other than pain to consume me. “Can I ask you for a favor though?”
He nods.
“Let’s wait until we have the baby before choosing a name. I don’t want to get my hopes up and then have something happen.”
His arm tightens around me. “Nothing will happen.”
I reach up and run my fingers over the stubble on his cheeks. “Just in case.”
“We’ll wait. And, when you have our baby and it’s a girl, we’ll go with the name you choose. If it’s a boy, we’ll go with mine.”
I smile. “I like that idea.”
“Now, can I ask you a favor? You don’t have to answer right away. Think about it and get back with me when you decide.”
Damn it. Him and his favors.
“What?”
Sincerity takes over his features. “Consider moving in with me. I’ll do anything to make you comfortable there. Sleep on the couch. Crash in the basement. Sleep in my truck if I have to.”
“It didn’t end well the last time I was at your house. I feel like too much of an outsider.”
“I’ll make things right. Make you happy there. Give me a chance.”
I slowly nod. “I’ll think about it.”
“And …” he draws out. “Just one more serious question.”
“What more can you want?” I ask, faking annoyance.
“Why did you name your cat Scooby? Letting you name our child worries me.”
“My grandfather had a cat named Scooby. No one understood why, and he never told us.” I narrow my eyes at him with a smile. “So, consider yourself lucky to hear my reason.”
“And what would that be?”
“Because my grandfather named his Scooby.”