Ace wraps his arm around Harper and presses a soft kiss to her temple. “Love you too, Sis. And trust me, I know I married up. Seems like you didn’t do too bad, either.”

  Ace looks at Daniel with a question in his eyes, and I wonder what conversations transpired between them during the period I was out. But before I can inquire, Mom comes up to the bedside, pushing Elle and Ace out of the way to take my hand. “Did they say what happened?”

  Elle chimes in, “Yeah, what the hell? You dropped like a bag of bricks! Neve thought you died, and when I tried to reassure her that you’re fine and awake now, she started calling you Zombie Tiffy. I’m gonna let you deal with that one because luckily, she’s not scared of zombies yet.”

  “She’s not?”

  “Her only frame of reference is some Halloween special. She thinks zombies wear dark eye shadow and growl a lot.”

  “I can probably pull that off if I need to,” I joke. But when I try to laugh, it hurts my head and I wince.

  Five sets of eyes, full of questions, focus on me.

  Daniel answers them all, not giving me a chance to. “Her blood sugar dropped from not eating, and she’s been working too hard.”

  I can see what he’s doing. He is covering for me, giving me the chance to decide whether to tell them about the baby. He adds a sharp look to Ace, and I look between the two men. Somehow, Daniel knows that I’ve told Ace and is telling him without words to keep his mouth shut.

  But enough of this. I want to tell my family the truth. This pregnancy is important and should be celebrated, not hidden away. Still, I hold my tongue until Daniel and I talk. He deserves that.

  So I nod, silently agreeing with Daniel's explanation.

  “Okay, well, I guess. You have to take care of yourself, dear. You can’t run yourself into the ground and expect to pop right back up,” Mom says with all her years of motherly wisdom. “Besides, deadlines can wait. Work is replaceable, but you are not.”

  “Said like a true mother,” Daniel says with affection. “And very correct.”

  A nurse comes in to check my vitals, which are all stable. He encourages me to drink some more water and eat a little bit off the tray. It’s just Jell-O, but I get it. Get something in my system besides IV fluids. After witnessing a spoonful going down, the nurse looks around the gathered group of people. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask some of you to leave. Visiting hours are almost over.” He looks at Harper curiously. “And I’m guessing some of you have better places to be than here.”

  Mom looks at me, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

  She shuffles around the bed in her heels to push Daniel out of the way. She claims the chair he was sitting in earlier and grabs the water cup from Daniel, holding up the straw for me to take a sip. I give in and drink, which is surprisingly good. “Mom.”

  Daniel’s clearly not pleased and clears his throat. “Mrs. Young, if you’ll allow me—”

  Thankfully, Dad saves Daniel from Mom’s wrath. “Honey, get your butt up and let’s go. Can’t you see Tiffany’s beau has this handled and is taking good care of her?”

  Ace snorts in amusement. “Beau? What year is this? 1821?”

  “Well, I feel really damn strange calling him her boyfriend,” he whispers. “He’s damn near the same age as me and runs a multi-billion-dollar company.”

  Daniel smiles at my dad, letting it roll off his back. “Beau or boyfriend, either works just fine.”

  Mom huffs at Dad like he’s being ridiculous. “I’m not going anywhere when my baby is in the hospital.”

  She tries to get me to drink again, but this time I push the cup away kindly. “Mom, I’m fine. And Daniel, can you stay with me?”

  “Of course, I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else,” he says, sitting down on the bed next to my legs and laying a possessive hand on my thigh.

  Dad comes around and puts his hands on Mom’s shoulders. “That’s your exit cue, dear.”

  Mom looks uncertain, afraid to let her baby go when she’s hurt but knowing she needs to. “Oh. Well, uh . . . okay. If you’re sure, honey?”

  She’s not going to give up easily, but I give her a reassuring nod. “I’m sure, Mom.”

  Dad reaches across to the other side of the bed, shaking Daniel’s hand and saying, “Take care of her.” Then he hugs me. “I’ll take care of your mother.” He rolls his eyes in annoyance, but he’s smiling, totally understanding of Mom’s worry. “I’m glad you’re okay, honey.”

  He walks Mom out the door, and then Ace and Harper hug me. I tell them congratulations once more as they leave. When it’s Elle’s turn, her eyes are red and puffy as she says firmly, “Don’t do that shit to me, girl. I’m just gonna say it . . . I dare you to eat. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks. And take regular breaks. Because we’re not doing this again.” She twirls a burgundy tipped finger around the room before it lands on me in warning. “I’ll be checking in with Harper to make sure you’re being good.”

  Actually, maybe that’s not a warning because it sounds more like a threat.

  “And my dad.”

  Oh, that’s definitely a threat.

  But her hug is tight, and I know how scared she was. I hug her back, feeling her sag in relief. “Give my love to Colton and Neve. Sorry I scared her.”

  “I will.” She hugs Daniel too, and then she’s gone. It’s just me and Daniel alone once more.

  “Daniel—” I start, but he shakes his head, putting a finger to his lips in the international ‘shush’ gesture.

  “Not now. You need to rest. We’ll have plenty of time to talk when you come home.”

  I don’t want to wait. This has been weighing on me for days, and I want to share it with him, have him help with the load of worries and what-ifs. But the least I can do is respect that he’s not ready and give him time to think. I took that for myself, and he deserves the same.

  Still, I’m disappointed. I guess a small part of me hoped he would be overjoyed, instantly take me in his arms, and tell me it would all be okay.

  I nod. “Okay.”

  Daniel moves around on the bed, coming to rest on his side next to me in the small space. He gathers me into him, and I bury myself in his chest as he runs his fingers through my hair. It feels good, and I want to stay awake to enjoy it.

  But my eyes get heavy once more.

  Right on the edge of sleep, I think I hear him whisper ‘I love you’, but it just as easily could’ve been my dream coming back. Still, it helps me, and this time the darkness is soft, unending, and comforting.

  Chapter 30

  Daniel

  “Really, this is bullshit.”

  “Hospital policy,” I remind Tiffany as I push her wheelchair toward the door.

  “It’s not the walk of shame, it’s the roll of shame.”

  “Just one more turn and the last hallway to freedom.”

  Actually, I like being able to push Tiffany in a wheelchair. Not because she needs it. She’s squirming and rolling her eyes more than ever and walked across the hospital room to sit down in it, bitching the whole way. But it feels sort of . . . I don’t know. Like one last safety net to make sure she’s okay? Maybe.

  All I know is I’m ready to have her out of the hospital and coming home.

  We reach the pickup area, where my car’s waiting for us. With my help, she gets into the passenger seat while a nurse takes the wheelchair back inside.

  “How did your car get here?” she asks, avoiding the elephant in the space between us. We haven’t really had a chance to discuss it yet. “You were in the hospital with me the whole time.”

  “Ricky and Billy dropped it off for me,” I explain. “They’ve both got spare sets of keys.”

  She nods, and the car goes silent.

  I drive to my home automatically, never considering that she would go anywhere else. We have some things to discuss, some decisions to be made, but she’s not going anywhere without me. And I need a shower and some fresh clothes.

  At the apartment, I keep a steadying hand on her waist as we ride the elevator up. She’s eaten, and I know I’m being hyper-protective, but dammit, I think when the woman you love collapses in front of you because she’s not eating, you’ve earned the right for a little bit.

  Not that Tiffany wants any help, of course. She’s stiff in my arm, refusing to admit to any weakness at all. “Shower?”

  She nods again, and I’m a bit worried I can’t read her. Her usually animated face is stoic, pale with exhaustion, which worries me, and her silence is loud as hell.

  In the bathroom, I help her strip and then pull off my own clothes, all business, no heat. I help her into the warm water. Taking the bodywash, I soap up a scrubber puff and bathe her. With gentle sweeps of my hand, I sluice away the smells of sweat, fear, and hospital nastiness until she’s soft and pink all over.

  She lets me move her this way and that without resistance and then sits on the small bench while I wash myself.

  Shutting off the water, I dry her off with a towel and consider taking her back to bed. Not for sex, but to sleep. The storm in her eyes is the only sign of life she’s exhibiting, and for a woman as bold as Tiffany, the contrast is stark.

  Not the only sign of life.

  I look at her belly, unable to stop my hands as I trace over the soft, warm skin. She trembles beneath my touch, and I know that despite her need for sleep, we need to talk.

  I can’t put this off anymore. We can’t put this off anymore.

  She needs to know what’s happening in my head and heart as much as I need to hear what’s in hers. So I wrap her in a robe and lead her to the living room, guiding her to the couch where she sits, curling her legs underneath her.

  “You want something to drink or eat?”

  “Do you have apple juice? That sounds delicious right now,” Tiffany asks, a bit of life coming back into her face.

  I smile at her words, brightening at the newfound animation, a hint of the sassiness she had in the hospital lobby. “I do. Fancy organic stuff, even. Let me get it for you.”

  I come back a moment later to find her curled up on the far end of the couch. I’m struck by how similar it looks to that first night I brought her here, drunk and sick. It really wasn’t that long ago, if you look at a calendar.

  But I can’t believe how far we’ve come.

  And how far we have to go. We’ve both got issues, clearly. And we need to clear the air if we’re going to stop those issues before my history repeats itself.

  I set the juice down on the coffee table and sit down next to her. Tiffany turns to me instantly. “I wanted to tell you. I did. I just didn’t know . . .”

  The pain in her eyes stops me in my tracks, a horrifying idea I hadn’t considered coming to mind. She wants the baby, that was never the issue. She was worried about me.

  My jaw clenches. “Didn’t know what?” I demand, keeping my voice low.

  “How you’d react.” Her eyes fall, and her hands twist in her lap. “This isn’t exactly what we talked about. We were just getting started, and while the feelings were big, are big . . . we never talked about a baby.”

  The fire that threatened to bubble up snuffs out in an instant. She didn’t know how I would react. Nothing more. That’s fair. And a concern that needs to be put to rest right now. At the same time, I don’t want to scare her with the gravity of the situation we’re in now. There’s no going back, not for me and not for her.

  I reach across the back cushion, laying a finger on her shoulder. “We talked about ‘more’. Maybe this isn’t what we imagined, but this is definitely more.”

  She closes her eyes as if my words gut her. She swallows thickly and then opens her eyes, pinning me directly in her gaze. “We agreed on a relationship as compared to fucking. A baby is way more than ‘more’, though. I understand if it’s not what you want. I won’t pressure you or put expectations on you.”

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  “I’m giving you an out. That is . . . if you don’t want another child.”

  “I don’t want a fucking out! How could you think that?” I proclaim hotly as I dismiss the idea entirely. “I love you. I love you so much it terrifies me. And I’m already in love with this baby too. Our baby.”

  Hope tries to bloom in her eyes, her mouth going slack. But she doesn’t trust it, doesn’t trust me. “Daniel, I need you to be sure. And if you need time to adjust, that’s okay. I’ve had a lot longer to think, and you deserve at least that too.”

  I shake my head, putting my hand on hers. “Tiffany, stop. Stop acting like I’m running away. I’m not. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

  Tiffany’s lip quivers, and hope blooms again in her eyes. “You’re not?”

  “No.” I scoot forward, cupping her face. “And neither are you.”

  Tiffany’s breath catches at my touch, but then her eyebrows knit in confusion. “What?”

  I grin, looking her up and down. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, baby girl.”

  A shiver runs through her at the endearment, and her cheeks pinken, making her look more alive than she has in days. She sees the way I’m looking at her, and she responds to it. “What do you mean?”

  There’s a hint of coy seduction in the question, but she’s still not quite a hundred percent certain that I’m fully onboard. Whether it’s our individual histories, or her hormones, or just being scared out of her mind by an unexpected baby, she needs total and complete reassurance.

  I don’t answer her question directly. Instead, I ask, “Why didn’t you tell me that you wanted me? You know, in the past.”

  She lifts a shoulder, her eyes cutting away. “I don’t know. You seemed out of reach, I guess.”

  I turn her chin back to me, not letting her run this time. “No. I don’t think that’s it.” She tilts her head, daring me to tell her why I think she didn’t pursue me earlier. “You talk about being invisible at work, and to me, in a way, you were. I had blinders on. But you didn’t. You saw me—my unwillingness to be in a relationship with anyone, my lack of commitment to anything other than work. And you refused to be second. From the get-go, you knew your value and wouldn’t let me not understand that.”

  Her shoulders go back, and she sits a bit taller, and I know I’m right. Maybe that’s why she was able to get past my defenses so easily. She knew her worth and didn’t let me try and dismiss her once she made her move.

  “So, when opportunity presented itself and you felt that I might finally pull my head out of my ass, you gave me that chance. And you made me fall in love with you. Desperately, fully, powerfully in love with you, Tiffany Young.”

  Tiffany chuckles softly. “I learned long ago that you don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

  “No, I do not,” I promise her. “It’s the same with the pregnancy. You knew instantly that you wanted to be a mother. Your first thought, I bet, was that you’re going to be the best damn mother to our baby. But you didn’t trust that I would, even though I gave everything to Elle.” I give her a raised eyebrow for overlooking that fact, daring her to disagree with me. “But I’m already in love with our baby too. And there’s no halfway.”

  Tears glisten in her eyes, and her mouth drops open as I slip off the couch to the floor on one knee.

  I take her hands in mine.

  “Tiffany, I’m not surprised that you knew what we could be before I did, though I wish I’d figured it out sooner so we wouldn’t have wasted so much time. You are strong-willed and caring to a fault, and somehow, you make this old man feel more alive than ever.”

  I pause as she laughs through her tears. “You’re not that old.”

  I don’t argue with her. One day, she’ll understand the gift of her youth and how much I appreciate the light she brings into my life. I’m not old by some measures, but I’m old enough that in a way, I’d given up. I’d expected my days to play out in a repeat of the last—work, home, workout. But now? With her at my side, there’s a wonderful sense of possibility, of not knowing what tomorrow holds. For a micromanaging planner like me, it should sound like hell. But it doesn’t. It sounds like . . . the life I can have with Tiffany.

  “I want you to know, this is not about our baby, though I am so damn happy about it. This is about you and me. I saw you up at that altar today and knew then that you are mine. And just as importantly, I’m yours. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?”

  I expect an excited yes or maybe tears. But what I don’t expect is for Tiffany to wipe her tears away and level me with those intelligent eyes of hers. “Daniel, I want you to know that I did see you. I saw you thinking you didn’t deserve love. But you do. You deserve everything, and I intend to give it to you. To make you smile, to make your days fun, and to bring the world beyond work into your life.”

  “You already do that,” I say with a smile. “And you deserve to be cared for the way you care for everyone else. I’ll be your soft place to fall.”

  Tiffany answers with a smile of her own. “The truth is, I think I needed to be ready too. And I am. I’m ready for you and our baby . . . our family.”

  Maybe I’m losing my damn mind, or maybe I am getting old, because I need her to spell it out simply for me. “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes,” she answers, nodding too just to make sure I understand her.

  She leans forward, her arms going around my neck, and I kiss her fiercely. She kisses me back just as passionately, any weakness she might’ve felt gone in a rush of joy. She tastes like my future, feels like my life, and is already my everything.

  I climb up from the floor, and she teases, “Get up here, old man.”

  “I’m not that old . . . fiancée,” I reply, throwing her words back at her.

  Her eyes pop open wide, and she covers her mouth with her hands, mumbling in shock, “Oh, my God, I’m going to actually be Mrs. Tiffany Stryker! I’ve practiced my signature roughly a thousand times. Hope that doesn’t freak you out.” Her smile dares me to say one bad word about it, but I would never.