Page 63 of Beautifully Reckless

Fine.

Whatever.

“Look, I’m not saying there’s anything between us. I don’t know the first thing about relationships. But I don’t really understand whatthisis.” I gesture between us. “And since I’m going to be a mum soon, and my life will no longer be mine anymore, I don’t get why you’re here… holding my hand while I get my first ultrasound. Telling the sonographer you’re the dad.”

He smirks. Like this is some kind of joke, but it’s not.

There’s no humour in this for me. Just pain. The deep, dragging kind of pain that sits heavy in my chest, squeezing until I wonder if my heart is going to stop beating altogether.

“Yes, I saidI was the dad, because the sonographer looked like she was about to start asking questions. Questions you don’t need.”

“So, you were just lying to protect me,” I murmur, mostly to myself.

I mean, it makes sense. There’s no way after such a short time he’d actually step in and claim my baby as his with the intention of taking care of it too.

Not that I need him to.

I know I don’t need a man in my life to be a mum, but the truth of it is, if I’m ever to have a relationship with someone ever again, I’m not just me anymore. I’m meandmy baby.

Us.

I have to remember that. Not just for my sake, but for my baby’s.

“You know it’s more than that,” Ringo snaps me out of my thoughts, his voice low and sharp.

When I meet his eyes, I notice a war going on behind them.

His dark brows are drawn tight, jaw ticking beneath his beard like he’s struggling to hold something back.

“I’m here because I fuckingcare, Angel. I don’t know anything beyond that.”

He fucking cares.

If I had to guess, I’d say he’s just as confused as I am about whatever this thing is between us.

“Okay,” I whisper, letting it be enough for now.

If he wants to protect me, I’ll let him. Even if it’s just for the sake of my baby.

Relaxing back in his seat, Ringo’s eyes drift down to my bump. The gel has been wiped away, but my bare skin is still exposed, the towel sitting low, barely covering my panties.

“Can I touch it?”

My brows shoot up, and when our eyes meet, whatever he sees in my expression makes him smirk.

“I mean your tummy. Just to be clear.”

I stifle a giggle, my lips tugging into a closed-mouth smile, and nod.

Rolling his eyes likeI’mthe one being inappropriate, he places his large hand over the swell of my stomach and his lids flutter closed, as if feeling the life growing inside me, skin to skin, just knocked the air out of him.

“Are you thinking about her?” I whisper, unsure if he wants to talk about Hope ever again.

I want him to, though.

Hope was…isimportant to him, and he should speak of her. Remember her. Even if he never got to know his little girl, she still matters.

“No… Yes…” His lids flicker open and his gaze shifts back to me. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I lied. Habit, maybe.”

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