Page 58 of Baby I'm Yours

“I’m not good with children,” he says, but he still doesn’t look mad or sad and there’s a hopeful lilt in his voice that makes me feel even bouncier inside.

“That’s not what I heard,” I say. “I heard that you played farm animals and Chelsea thought you were hysterical. And that you lifted her up so she could see the cranes outside the window and didn’t seem to mind when she got crushed Cheerios all over your suit.”

He laughs—actuallylaughs!—and my heart soars into the trees to frolic with the birds. “Fine. It was…fine. And she was…enjoyable.”

I squeeze his hand, torn between laughing and tearing up. “Enjoyable. That’s an excellent place to start.”

He sighs, his smile fading as he glances down at me. “Just because I enjoyed thirty minutes with a uniquely clever and charming toddler doesn’t mean I would be a good father. I seriously doubt I have what it takes to succeed in that role, Elaina.”

“You seriously doubted you had what it takes to succeed as a boyfriend, too, Hunter,” I say, gently mimicking his serious tone, before adding in a softer voice, “and so far, you’re earning straight As across the board.”

His lips twitch, but don’t curve, and a hint of doom creeps into his voice as he says, “You’ve only been here three weeks, and I was gone to Chicago, hiding from my feelings, for three days.”

I flutter my free fingers in the air with apishingsound. “Details. Silly, meaningless details that will beprovenmeaningless when you’re still ditching work to take me out for ice cream in six months.”

“No ice cream,” he says. “I don’t do ice cream in January. We’ll have to go for hot chocolate, instead.”

I stop dead, his words proof that I’m not crazy for thinking we can find a way to ensure we never have to say goodbye. Hestops, too, turning to face me on the thankfully empty path, the affection in his eyes making my heart race.

“Really?” I whisper, grinning. “You want to keep me through Christmas?”

“I want to keep you for?—”

A shout from behind us cuts through his words. “Bruno! Bruno, heel!”

I turn to see what’s going on, but everything happens so fast.

One moment I’m standing beside the path, the next I’m airborne, knocked off my feet by what feels like a furry freight train. My arms windmill uselessly as I fall backward, and then—crack.

Pain explodes through my skull, followed by white light flashing behind my eyes. For a moment, everything goes fuzzy around the edges as my brain seems to swell to three times its usual size.

I try to pull in a breath, but my lungs are locked, and Hunter’s voice sounds far away as he calls my name.

“Elaina? Elaina?” He cradles my face, hovering over me with a worried expression.

I try to tell him that I’m okay, but I still can’t breathe, and I’m honestly not sure I’m okay. The back of my head is starting to pound like dwarves are mining for diamonds in my skull and the world is going dark at the edges.

“Don’t move, baby. Just lie still,” he says, stroking my hair from my forehead before resting a gentle hand on much chest. “Can you breathe? Can you pull in a breath for me, Elaina?”

I manage a sip of air, followed by another. Slowly, the black fuzz in my vision begins to fade, but before I can speak, a young, panicked voice shouts from nearby, “I’m so sorry! Oh my God, is she okay? He’s just a puppy. He didn’t mean to hurt anyone, he just doesn’t know his own?—”

I flinch as a wet tongue laps at my fingers.

“Get your animal away from her!” The fury in Hunter’s voice makes me flinch again. I’ve never heard him sound like that before, and the look in his eyes would have me running for cover if I were on the receiving end of it. “Why isn’t your dog on a leash?” he demands of the teen boy I catch a glimpse of as the kid grabs his puppy’s collar, tugging the dog away. “It’s the law for a fucking reason. Because idiots like you think it’s okay to let an untrained animal off the lead in a crowded park to hurt people. She could have been killed. As things stand, she’s seriously injured.”

“Hunter, I’m okay,” I murmur, trying to sit up. “Don’t?—”

“Stay still, you could have a head injury,” he orders sharply. To the owner, who’s still stammering apologies, he adds, “If she has a concussion or any other serious complications, I will be reporting you and the dog to the police. Give me your information. Now.”

I close my eyes, trying to assess how bad off I am as Hunter gets the guy’s details. My head really hurts, but it’s less painful than it was a minute ago, and I don’t feel nauseous or faint anymore.

Once the kid and his puppy are gone, Hunter turns back to me, his tone gentler as he says, “I’m going to call 911. See if they have an ambulance that can get to us this far into the park.”

“No, I don’t need an ambulance,” I say, shooing his hands away when he tries to prevent me from sitting up. “Seriously, I’m okay, I just—” I break off with a shudder as something warm and sticky rolls down my neck beneath my ponytail. “Ew, is that…” I reach back to touch the sticky, and my fingers come away red. “Oh, God.” My hand begins to tremble. “Blood. I hate blood.”

“That’s it, we’re going to urgent care,” Hunter says.

“Wait, just a second, it might not be—” I don’t get to finish because he’s already scooping me into his arms. “Hunter! Putme down, I can walk. Seriously, it’s just a little blood and a headache.”

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