Page 74 of Won’t Let You Get Away

“Bri!” Noah groans, following after me and catching up. Just as I reach to open the door, he holds a hand out to stop me. “You’re supposed to be off your feet.”

“Well, let me answer the door, have a thirty-second conversation with someone who isn’t you or my Ma, and then I’ll plant my butt on the couch without complaint until I have to pee in twenty minutes.” I bat my eyelashes up at him for extra measure.

Shaking his head, he drops his hand from mine and motions for me to open. I push up on my toes and kiss his cheek before yanking the handle.

My smile is instantly wiped from my face and I immediately regret my choice to not just go sit down.

“Oh fuck no,” Noah seethes, stepping up behind me until my back is flush with his chest. He drapes an arm around me, his hand resting over my stomach protectively while his other hand finds the door.

“Hey,” Paul says from the porch. He grimaces and takes a smart step back.

I stare in silence and lean into Noah’s chest, trying to figure out if this is really happening.

Paul clears his throat. “I was hoping we could talk.”

Unable to form a complete sentence, I tilt my head back and look up at Noah. His hold on me is light and comforting, but the hard set of his jaw gives him away. He has been going out of his way to make it so I barely lift a finger.

Plus, neither of us have a good memory from the last time my ex was here.

Noah breaks off his glare and meets my gaze. “It’s your call, Sugar. I’ll support whatever you decide.” He kisses my forehead before lifting his head and narrowing his eyes at Paul. “But if you’re here to start shit, or stress her out in any way, walk away now. She’s already supposed to be on bed rest.”

Paul holds up two hands in surrender.

“I’m not here to add to your plate.” He claims and I stare at him, watching for any sign of deceit. After a few seconds, Paul drops his hands and grips the back of his neck. “I was an asshole.”

“Yeah,” I snort and nod, motioning toward the Adirondack chairs on the porch. “You can say your peace, but there’s no way in hell I’m standing up while you do it.”

Noah guides me over and helps me sit before assuming guard next to me.

Paul awkwardly fidgets in front of the chair beside me.

I roll my eyes and pat Noah’s thigh. “Can you get me a glass of water?”

His brows pinch together and he continues to eye Paul skeptically.

“I’ll be okay, just give us a minute,” I whisper. “Leave the front door open and come back in two minutes.”

Noah nods, bending down to give me a kiss that is nowhere near appropriate, before heading inside.

Blushing, I sit back, rubbing absentmindedly over my stomach and tap the chair next to me. “You only have a couple minutes before he’s back.”

He sinks into the seat and his eyes fall on my belly. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

“We’re both good.” I suck in a deep breath.

Paul’s eyes widen with concern and he pushes back to his feet and steps toward the door.

“I’m fine, Paul. He’s just a kicker and gets me really good sometimes.”

He sits back down and his eyes glisten with tears. “It’s a boy?”

Grinning, I focus on the bump and nod. “Yeah, I’m having a boy.”

“That’s amazing,” he says, before growing serious again. “I’m sorry, Sabrina. I never meant to hurt you—let alone put you in the hospital.”

I force a smile, trying to brush off the weight of responsibility. “It’s not entirely your fault. I hadn’t been taking care of myself and my body had finally reached its limit. Your arrival was just the straw that broke the camels back.”

He runs his hands through his hair. “I don’t even remember deciding to get on the plane and come here. I just… I found out you were pregnant and something snapped. You didn’t deserve that and I’m sorry.”

---