Page 5 of Curvy Girl and the Ex-Military Firefighter

Right. And I'm just a part-time volunteer at the station.

Something's coming. Something big. I can feel it in my gut, the same way I can sense when a fire's about to flash over. I just hope whatever it is doesn't burn us both.

Chapter 3 - Emma

The tension in the truck is thick enough to cut with a knife. I steal glances at Max's profile as he drives, hating the worry lines creasing his forehead. He thinks I'm pulling away when all I want to do is lean in closer.

If only he knew. The pregnancy test in my purse feels like it's burning a hole through the leather.

I remember how wrong I was about him at first. The cocky firefighter who seemed to be winking at every woman at the Christmas Festival. Except he didn't. He only winked at me and hasn't looked at another woman since.

"Hey." His voice breaks through my spiral. "Anything I should know about your family before we get there?"

I shift in my seat, grateful for the distraction. "Well, Aunt Linda will definitely grill you about how we met."

A smile tugs at his lips, softening his features.

"That's easy. I'll tell her how I spotted the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen at the Christmas Festival. How time stopped when our eyes met. How convenient it was that our best friends were best friends and ended up dating, giving us an excuse for all those double dates."

My heart squeezes. It's not even a lie, really. Except for the double dates part – those never happened.

"There's something else," I say, picking at a loose thread on my dress. "My Uncle Jack... he was in the military too."

Max's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "Afghanistan?"

"Yeah. He'll probably ask about your service."

"It's okay." His voice is steady, but I notice the muscle jumping in his jaw. "I can handle it. For you."

The words make my eyes sting. For you. He's willing to revisit his darkest memories for me, but am I about to ruin everything by dropping this baby bomb on him?

I press my hand against my still-flat stomach, hidden by my purse. Maybe I should tell him now, before we reach my family's house. Before he has to play the perfect boyfriend while I'm keeping this massive secret.

"You don't need to be so nervous," Max says, his hand finding mine across the console. "Whatever happens in there, you've got me. Plus, your students, Autumn, a whole life they can't touch."

I squeeze his fingers, wishing I could draw strength from his confidence.

"I know. It's just... family is everything to me. You know that."

"Yeah." His thumb traces circles on my palm. "Being an orphan, I never really got the whole family thing. Foster homes aren't exactly Hallmark movies." He pauses, and I catch a flash of old pain in his eyes. "But I'll do my best to support you through this."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Family. We could be his family. Me, him, and this tiny spark of life I'm carrying. But what if that's too much pressure? What if he's not ready to go from no family to instant family?

The familiar white house appears around the bend, and my stomach does another flip—Max parks in the driveway between Aunt Linda's Mercedes and Uncle Jack's pickup truck.

"Last chance to bail," he jokes, but I can hear the undertone of concern in his voice.

I shake my head, clutching my purse – and its life-changing contents – closer.

"No backing out now."

The walk to the front door feels like a march to execution. Max's hand settles on my lower back, warm and steady, guiding me forward. The touch that usually calms me now sends sparks of anxiety through my body.

I raise my hand to knock, but the door swings open before my knuckles can touch the wood. Aunt Linda stands there in her best clothes, with perfectly coiffed hair and shrewd eyes taking us in.

Max's smile doesn't waver as he steps forward, every inch the charming hero.

"Mrs. Rose? I'm Max Thompson. Thank you for having us."

---