Page 9 of Curvy Girl and the Ex-Military Firefighter

My heart pounds against my ribs so hard I wonder if Emma can hear it. What the hell do I know about raising kids? Sure, I can run into burning buildings and make split-second decisions that save lives, but a baby?

"Everything okay up there?" Aunt Linda's voice carries up the stairs.

Emma tenses under my hands. Right. We're still in her family's bathroom, and they're waiting for us.

"Be right down!" I call back, trying to keep my voice normal.

But all I can think about is how many guys I've seen miss their kids' birthdays, their first steps, their school plays. How many of us haven't made it home.

Christ. What if I die on a call and leave them alone?

"We should go down," Emma says, standing up shakily. "They'll start wondering."

I nod, helping her fix her makeup, playing the role of a supportive boyfriend. Partner. Father of her child. The words make my stomach clench.

Part of me wants to bolt – not from Emma or the baby, but from this house. I need to talk to my crew, the only family I've known. Need to hear Chief Luke tell me I won't screw this up like everything else in my life.

But Emma needs me here, now. So I straighten my tie, take her hand, and pretend I'm not terrified out of my mind.

"Ready?" I ask, and somehow my voice doesn't shake.

She squeezes my hand, and I wonder if she can feel my pulse racing through my palm.

Chapter 5 - Emma

I study Max's face, searching for any sign that he's about to bolt. His jaw is set, shoulders tense – the same way he looks before running into a fire.

"Are you sure?" I whisper, gripping his hand tighter. "Because if you're not..."

"I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

But I feel the slight tremor in his fingers, see the way his other hand keeps fidgeting with his tie. He's trying so hard to be strong, but I know him better than that.

"Max." I step closer, laying my free hand on his chest. His heart races under my palm. "I need you to know something. You're not going to be like your parents."

He runs a hand through his hair, messing up its perfect style. A harsh breath escapes him.

"I would never— They left me at the hospital, Emma. Just... left. I couldn't—" He stops and swallows hard. "I just never thought I'd be a father this soon."

I force my lips into what I hope is a reassuring smile.

"You're thirty-five. Some might say it's perfect timing." The words taste bitter in my mouth. "Though I wish we'd talked about this before it just... happened."

"Emma?" Aunt Linda's voice floats up again. "The roast is getting cold!"

Max's eyes meet mine, and I see everything he's trying to hide – the fear, the doubt, the overwhelming uncertainty. But there's something else too, something that makes my heart skip.

Hope.

"We should go down," he says, straightening his tie again. "Before they send a search party.”

We make our way down the stairs, Max's hand steady at my lower back. The pregnancy test is safely tucked back in my purse, but its presence feels like a flashing neon sign above our heads.

"There you are!" Aunt Linda stands at the bottom of the stairs, eyeing us suspiciously. "Everything alright?"

"Just feeling a bit queasy," I say, which isn't exactly a lie. "Must be nerves."

Uncle Jack appears from the dining room, his military medals catching the light.

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