“I thought your involvement wouldn’t begin until Sprog arrives.”
He grunts. “My involvement starts now.”
My chest warms at the determination in his voice. Hudson wants to be involved. I worried he’d wake up yesterday morning and decide to wash his hands of me and the baby. But he didn’t. He’s here.
“You’re not obligated to get involved until Sprog is born.”
He growls as he prowls toward me. He palms my neck and squeezes. “I’m not letting you go through pregnancy alone, Sunshine.”
I bristle. “Not letting me?”
“I’ve been researching pregnancy. It’s not an easy time for a woman.”
My jaw drops open. “You’ve been researching pregnancy?”
He ignores my question. “I don’t want you to be alone through this time. I want to support you.”
“I have my friends,” I argue.
I can’t rely on Hudson. I can’t depend on him. My body may yearn for him, but he’s only here because I got pregnant. He doesn’t wantme.He wants to be involved in his child’s life. Not mine.
“And now you have me too.” He kisses my forehead before stepping away and returning to the groceries. “Now, where do you want these?”
Huh? What? I have no idea what he’s talking about. I’m too busy feeling all warm and gooey from a kiss on the forehead.
Pull yourself together, Nova. The grumpy resort owner is not the man for you. He’s here because of the baby. A week ago, he would have scurried the other way if he saw me coming.
“I’ll put them away later.”
He glares at me. “Where do you want these?”
“Grumpy McGrumperson has returned to the island.”
He shakes the crackers at me. “Where?”
I blow out a breath. “The pantry is fine.”
He scans the area until his gaze lands on the small door next to my kitchen table. He places the ginger ale and boxes of crackers on a shelf.
“Now,” he says when he’s finished. “Have you eaten?”
I shake my head.
He frowns. “It’s nearly noon and you haven’t eaten yet. You need to take better care of yourself.”
“Easy for you to say. You didn’t spend hours throwing up this morning.”
“It’s normal to feel nauseous in the first trimester.”
I blink. “What?”
“I told you I’ve been researching.”
“I…” My response is cut off when my stomach rumbles. Loudly. Great. This conversation wasn’t awkward enough.
“Sit,” Hudson orders.
When I stare at him, he walks over to me, picks me up, and places me on a barstool.