Page 71 of Hidden By His Side

Her wrists were a little sore, but she shook her head. She didn’t want to think about Derek hovering over her, holding her down. Thinking about it would only lead her mind to darker places.

Ramiro brushed her hair back from her face, his palm warm as it cupped her head. Summer leaned into his touch, letting him study her with that warm gaze of his. “You’re telling the truth?” he asked, those wrinkles forming on his forehead.

She reached out, running her thumb over them. “I really am fine, Ram. You got there in time.”

“Not soon enough,” Ramiro said, but he let his hand drop.

For a moment, she wondered what he would have done if she said her wrists did ache. No, making him worry about her would be wrong.

“What did Derek say to you last night?” Ramiro asked, his thumb back to tracing along her wrist.

Summer looked away. “It’s not important.”

Ramiro’s thumb paused. “Your face is saying it is. I wish I’d been able to kill him more slowly.” He sat up, his arms moving around to her back to pull her onto his lap. “Don’t hold anything he said inside of you. He was an asshole, one who didn’t deserve you.”

“I-I don’t remember very clearly.” The pieces Summer did remember had been nothing but the truth. Derek hadn’t wanted someone like her to have his baby, which was fair, but he’d been on top of her, holding her down while he said it. Her fingers curled into Ramiro’s shirt. “He was just so angry.” The words might not have gotten through, but the memory of his raised voice twisted inside her all over again.

“Hey, come here, baby girl.” Ramiro pulled her in closer, tucking her against his chest.

Summer let out a wobbly breath, letting the memory fade. Her baby’s father was dead, but he wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with the baby anyway.

Her breathing slowed as she rested in Ramiro’s arms. She’d just woken up, but she felt like she could sleep more.

He slowly pulled back. “Why don’t you get cleaned up, and I’ll make you some tea and peel a banana. They seem to help the most. I like that you’re not feeling sick this morning, but we shouldn’t take any chances.”

She nodded, slipping out of bed. The picture he made, rumpled in bed and watching her, was one she wanted to lock in her mind. She headed to the guest room for a change of clothes with her cheeks flushed.

After her shower, a cup of decaf tea steamed on the kitchen counter next to that blue bowl that taunted her, along with a sliced banana. She popped a slice in her mouth, not missing Ramiro’s smile. When she sipped her tea, it was perfectly sweetened with sugar and a dash of honey.

Her stomach twinged a little watching Ramiro lift his own drink to his lips, one he’d made himself, but she pushed the guilt away the best she could.

“She’s the size of a grape now,” Ramiro said.

Summer froze, staring at him.

“Your daughter,” he explained, but she’d known what he meant.

He’d called the baby hers. No, she couldn’t get attached. “It might not be a girl.”

“I like thinking of her that way. Makes her seem more real.”

Summer’s throat tightened. The slice of banana she’d picked up felt mushy between her fingers. She should have grabbed a fork. “A grape isn’t that much bigger than a raspberry.” Was the baby as big as the slice of banana she held between her fingers?

“True,” Ramiro agreed, shifting toward her and kissing her forehead. “But it means she’s growing. That’s kind of amazing to think about.” He turned away while her breath was still trapped in her throat. “I’m going to shower. Pick something out on TV to watch?”

Summer blinked. “You’re not working today?”

Ramiro paused near the hallway. “It’s Saturday. I just want to cuddle you on the couch all day. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Her fingers clamped harder on the banana slice, smooshing it as she searched his eyes. Was he just doing this for her? She should feel bad, but excitement flipped in her stomach. “Yes,” she admitted. “I’d like that.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He took another sip of coffee as he disappeared down the hall. He’d probably leave the mug in the bathroom. She’d go collect it later.

Her mind spun as she forced herself to finish the rest of the banana and wash her hands. Ramiro kept looking up things about the pregnancy. He’d sounded almost… excited? That couldn’t be right.

The tea was pleasantly lukewarm now, and she brought it with her to the coffee table. Her older couch was more centered in front of the TV, and she sat on it as she scrolled through options.

She shouldn’t think of the baby as hers. She might get attached, and she’d already told Ramiro she wanted to put it up for adoption. How did you even do that? She should probably start researching.

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