Page 14 of In the Grey of Dawn

“Sorry, I do that sometimes. All social manners go out the window when you get used to your own company. I'm Tristan. I'm here for the winter, studying the fault line that runs through the valley. Seismic activity has been happening at breakneck speed and my office has set me up here for the season to keep an eye on things.”

He’s rather excited when he talks, the enthusiasm rolling off him in waves but there's something about him I'm just not gelling with. He’s giving meChad vibes, in that he is so consumed by his own work, he takes what he wants and expects you to be grateful for the scraps he leaves behind.

“I didn't realise there were even earthquakes in Hidden Valley, I'll have to look that up,” I say. Making a mental note to actually research that because the last thing I need to deal with is a natural disaster.

“Oh, um, it's a new fault line so there might not be any information out there but I can update you on my findings. I could take your number and we could get a drink sometime.” A smooth smile spreads across his face as the intention of this chat reveals itself. I'm just about to let him down gently when a warm arm wraps around my shoulder and Ace's hulking frame appears next to me.

“My girl Charlie here is taken, and Nova is too,” Ace says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder where Nova stands behind the counter. His demeanour is still friendly but there’s a threatening undertone. I love that he feels the need to rescue me even if I didn't really need it. I have no problem turning down a guy but you can't always control their response, so it's nice to have Ace here with me.

“Well, this just got a little awkward,” he says under his breath. Straightening his shoulders he feigns confidence and says, “I'm sorry if I overstepped. I really was just asking for a drink and good company. If it came off that way I apologise.”

Snorting at how wrong we’ve all been, I pull out from under Ace's arm and take my coffee from the counter. Patting Tristan's shoulder as I leave, saying how lovely it was to meet him and that we should definitely meet for a coffee soon.

Heading out to spend the day with Mila, I’m starting to get worried about the amount of weight she’s losing. I've been here just over a month and she is still barely keeping anything down. I've had to keep a permanent IV line in her arm ready to go in case she needs medications or fluids. She’s made it to fourteen weeks and I can tell her spirits are dropping because if anything, the hyperemesis is getting worse as she becomes more and more dehydrated. She keeps saying that all the pregnancy books note that morning sickness should ease around the twelve week point, but as each day passes with no change to her condition, it chips away at her strength. I need to talk with her OBGYN tomorrow, and see if we can come up with a better plan than what's being suggested.

A bit of sickness is fine, it means the baby is doing great.

The way I grit my teeth whenthatwas the medical advice given, I was surprised I didn't crack a tooth. Dante is hovering around her any chance he gets and Ace pops in every now and then to see if he can help, not to mention I've almost tripped over Ragnar twice now because he insists on being physically next to her. I keep telling them all the same thing, that she needs rest, to keep her fluids up and any food shecaneat is a bonus.

They’re both so out of their element having a pregnant woman around that I'm glad I came so I could manage everyone. They must have brought out the local supermarket with the amount of crackers and ginger that’s packed away in the pantry, but Mila won't touch them anymore. She said it didn't help and also hurt her throat so would rather eat ice cream.

???

“How you feeling, hon? Want to watch a movie or try to listen to an audiobook?” I say to Mila curled up on the couch. She's spent a few hours lying here, staring out into the room watching us as we go about our day. She still likes to be a partof things, even if it's just sharing the same space for a while. When a bad day hits, even the smallest movements exhaust her or trigger a round of vomiting, so I'm careful not to push her too much.

“I think I'd like to go back to bed now, please.”

Mila’s voice is barely a whisper, no longer soft, but has turned rough and hoarse from all of the vomiting. If she's willing, I get Dante to move her to the living area for a change of scenery but more often than not she prefers the comfort of a dark room.

In less than a second Dante has moved from his observation post in the kitchen and has her cradled in his arms, carrying her up the stairs to their bedroom.

Following them, I see his tenderness as he places her back in the bed, making sure the water on the bedside table is fresh and her sick bags nearby.

“I love you, sunshine. You're doing so good, growing our baby.”

His gravelly voice is low but clear in the quiet room as he strokes her hair from where it’s fallen across her face, her eyes closing to his touch as I slip out of the room giving them a moment.

Chapter 9 - Charlie

Slipping into my regular seat at the end of the bar, I can see Porter eye me from across the room. I’ve become quite comfortable in my little area here and surprisingly, he's still his normal flirty self, even after I went on my I don't want babies rant, followed up with the we’re definitely not dating night. He doesn't seem to be overly bothered when my crazy pops out.

I picked this spot because it’s the business end of the bar, staff pass to get into the kitchen and Porter sometimes has to walk by to serve drinks and meals. I've also let him in on the secret of my usual drink, a bourbon and coke, hold the bourbon. The way he was so confused trying to make it, he asked me twice if it just meant I wanted a regular coke to drink. I didn’t mean to flummox him but every night since I let him in on the secret, he makes a little smirk when he pours it.

He’s attentive without being overbearing. Makes sure my drink is topped up when it gets below half a glass and he always asks what I want for dinner, even though I make a point to order the next item on the menu. So far, everything has been too delicious to pick a favourite. Tonight however, my glass remainsempty and I can see he’s a bit under the pump with double the amount of people that are generally here for a Tuesday night.

A queue of at least a half dozen people are at the bar waiting and the usual girl, Mel, who works evenings is nowhere to be found. Standing, I look myself over in the mirror behind the bar and think about adjusting my messy bun, but really, this is as good as it’s going to get. I’ve been up since 6 a.m. and it’s now just past 6 p.m. So after twelve hours, most of them spent reading while I watch over Mila, I brush off my scrubs and get to work serving drinks to help. I keep meaning to ask him if I can help out anyways, so this is more like trial by fire.

“Charlie,” Porter growls at me, not less than two minutes after I served my first beer.

Sighing at his very typical and expected response, I can’t help but give him a little bit of sass. He should know by now that his tough guy act doesn’t scare me.

“You’re welcome,” I say smoothly, without meeting his stare.

I continue to crack the tops of a couple of beers, handing them to the man waiting patiently and taking the cash from his hand.

“I can serve a few beers, Porter. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you're the only one working tonight.”

Looking over the small crowd forming he runs a hand over his face, clearly torn at what to do. Every night when I come in for dinner he tells me I work too hard but the reality is I feel like I've retired. Mila is my only patient. She doesn’t swear, spit, or try to lash out at me. Dante is checking in on us both constantly and she sleeps a large portion of the day.

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