Page 69 of Surprise Baby for the Enemy

I can’t believe this. I’m sitting at the table.Thetable, the one reserved for Thomas’s meetings with his generals and Iris todiscuss business. And not only am I here, but I’m on Thomas’s right side, and Derrick is in the chair onmyright.

I’m not sure which of us is more shocked.

Iris doesn’t look put out by the change in seating arrangements. It’s only temporary, after all. What shedoeslook put out by is Derrick’s presence. She hasn’t stopped watching him since we entered the room, her black eyes sharper than any hawk’s as she glares at him over the edge of her teacup.

“Is that assam?” Derrick asks Iris, the friendly confidence in his voice knocking loudly on her icy walls.

“Mm,” is all Iris says, with mauve lips pressed into a perfect line. She might be happy with me now, but it will probably take years for her to warm up to Derrick.

So, Derrick: zero. Iris: one?

Paul, for his part, looks mildly amused by this twist of fate. Maybe he sees echoes of his own romantic difficulties in us, loving someone on the opposite side of the line.

But of course, we don’t have to impress only Thomas, Iris, and Paul. Thomas’s generals file in with their mugs of black coffee, and every one of them stares openly as they settle into their chairs. Many of them were personally involved in the raid that went wrong when Derrick’s cops turned on our people. None of them dare to look at me, but I have to wonder what they think of my choice to bring him here, to love him, to bear his child.

Whatever they think, it won’t change my mind. Under the table, I plant my hand possessively on Derrick’s thigh. He looks at me with a question in his blue eyes, and I just hold his gaze. After a moment, his lips twitch in a half smile, realizing what I’m doing.

Showing off, for everyone at this table, how obsessed I am with him.

His own hand slides over my thigh, high as it can go, and squeezes.

At that moment, Thomas enters the room. To my delight, Derrick doesn’t let me go or even try to hide that he’s holding onto me under the table. I feel Thomas’s gaze pass over us, cool, and then move on.

Thomas: zero. Derrick: one.

Thomas clears his throat as he sits beside me. This is the only sign he needs to give that the meeting has begun. His generals all sit more upright in their seats, and I feel my own back straighten in response. My heart is pounding so hard I wonder if everyone in this room can hear it.

I’ve only ever dared to imagine sitting at this table, never truly believing it would become a reality. I grew up with the fate of a strategic marriage hanging over my head, and when that future expired I felt lost, alone, and without purpose. It’s strange what moments solidify themselves into things that I want. I stood on the porch of a farmhouse and realized I wanted to be there always. Now I’m sitting at the Warwick strategy table and realizing I’ve always wanted this privilege.

Now I just have to prove I deserve it.

“I’ve reviewed all the information we’ve managed to collect on Silver,” Thomas begins, “except there isn’t a lot of it. We don’t know his true identity, the address he operates out of, or even his main goal.”

“His main goal is to kill me,” Derrick says.

Every hostile eye at the table turns on him. Derrick smiles pleasantly back, and I’d laugh if the atmosphere wasn’t quite so tense.

I clear my throat. “He’s looking for revenge against the people he believes are responsible for killing Morgan Speare, who he claims is his father. He drives a shitty old car- a Buick-”

“A 1995 Buick LeSabre, gray,” Derrick supplies.

“-that he potentially got from one of his goons, who stole it from his girlfriend, who should really dump him for that behavior, btw. An Emma Clarke. We have her address.”

“And the license plate of the vehicle,” Derrick finishes. “Which I’m sure my department has been keeping track of since the high-speed chase.”

Thomas is looking at me like I’ve grown two extra heads. Iris’s most judgmental eyebrow is raised as high as it will go, but there’s a twinkle of amusement, maybe even pride, in her eyes that makes my chest feel warm.

“It sounds like you don’t need my help with this,” Thomas says coolly to Derrick. “Would our dear sheriff like to get back to work so he can catch this violent criminal?”

“Alas,” Derrick says, putting a hand to his chest and smiling like one of his goddamn campaign posters. “I prefer to let mafia business remain mafia business nowadays. Silver claims he wants revenge against the people who killed his father. I didn’t actually have anything to do with that, now did I?”

Thomas: zero. Derrick: two.

I roll my eyes. God, I might have stuck my neck out for this incredible man, but that doesn’t make him invincible! If he keeps shooting his mouth off at this table, one of our generals is going to take him out back and shoot him the next time I blink.

“I was in that room too,” I remind them both. “Surely I deserve some payback for the traumaIendured from being held captive?”

Yeah, that’s right, I can be part of this pissing contest too.

---