I want us to be a family.
But Quinn is right, and we can’t jump into a relationship just because she’s pregnant. I’ve seen that happen with friends and it doesn’t always pan out, and the last thing I want is resentment to grow between us.
I need to be practical and stop thinking about myself. Quinn is pregnant and suffering from symptoms already. Is it going to interfere with her work? And when the baby is born?
My head spins. I shift my eyes to the bathroom door. We have nine months to figure it out. Is that enough time to make Quinn fall in love with me? To be with me because it feels as good for her as it does for me?
It’s not just us at stake now, and the bottom line is doing what’s best for our child. No matter what.
“You’re a quiet bunch,” Mr. Dawson comments. Quinn, Dean, and I are sitting at the island counter eating breakfast. Quinn is picking at eggs and bacon, and I hope she’s able to keep it down. “Suffering from too much fun last night?”
Quinn flicks her eyes to me and picks up a piece of bacon. “Something like that.”
“What’s the plan today, kids?” Mr. Dawson pours another cup of coffee and sits at the table. “I take it you’re joining us for church?”
“Probably not today,” Dean mumbles.
“If you want Father Daniels to marry you, you and Kara should start going to church,” Mr. Dawson tells Dean, who nods in agreement.
“We’ll start going next week.”
“You said that over a month ago too.”
“Fine. I’ll text Kara. But she had friends over last night and is probably hung over.” He picks up his phone and sends Kara a text. A few seconds later, he swears.
“I take it Kara’s up and ready for church?” I ask with a laugh.
“Yes,” he sighs. “I guess I better get ready.”
“What about you, sweetheart?” Mr. Dawson asks Quinn.
“Would you be upset if I stayed home? I don’t feel all that well and want to go back to bed before hitting the road.”
“You don’t feel well?”
Quinn presses a smile. “I think stress from work is catching up with me.”
Mr. Dawson nods and tells Quinn to rest. He invites me to church as well, but won’t pressure me to join. My family’s not religious, and the Dawsons have never pressed. Like Quinn, I make up an excuse, and half an hour later, the house is empty.
Quinn went back to her room and closed the door. I pause outside of it and listen, not wanting to wake her up if she really did go back to sleep. Right as I’m about to knock, the door flies open. Quinn jumps back, startled.
“I was just going to find you.”
“You found me,” I say with a small smile. “We should talk.”
“Yeah. We have a lot to talk about.”
She’s still in her pajamas and her eyes are red as if she’s been crying. We move onto her bed.
“You’re not going to be alone in this,” I tell her, taking her hand in mine. “I want to be there for you. For our baby.”
Quinn nods, biting her lip as she tries not to cry. A moment passes before she’s able to talk. “I know, and I believe you, Archer. But…how?”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re hours apart. You work a lot, and I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but it makes it harder to see each other because of the whole we live hours apart thing.”
“I know,” I say, tightening my hold on her hand. “Trust me, I’ve thought about it. I’m in the last year of my residency and will be getting a new job soon. There are lots of hospitals around Chicago.”
“You’d move to Chicago for me?”
“Yes,” I say with no hesitation. “Quinn, I mean it when I say I want to be involved. I’ve always wanted to get married and have kids. It’s happening out of order and sooner than I thought, but this kid is mine too, and I want to be there.”
Tears roll down Quinn’s cheeks. “Sorry,” she says, wiping them away. “I don’t usually cry like this.”
“It’s understandable. Plus, hormones make you emotional.”
“That’s only one thing they make me.” She raises her eyebrows and smiles. “At least I know why I’ve had the sex drive of a teenage boy lately. Is that too much information to tell you? Are we past that now?”
“I think so. And if you need help with your overactive sex drive, I’m more than willing to pitch in.”
Quinn gives me a half smile. “Thanks. I’m already pregnant so…” Her eyes fall shut and she rests her hand on her stomach. “I’m going to have to tell my family. Eventually.”
Tension builds between my shoulders. “I know. We’ll tell them together.”
“I want to get an ultrasound and stuff first. Just to be extra sure.”
She’s putting it off, but I’m okay with that. “Good idea.”
“I’ll call my OB tomorrow. I’m due for an annual anyway.”
“I can come with you to your appointments,” I say, and Quinn just nods. We both know that’s not possible. I can’t take an hour off work to meet her at the doctor’s office. I’m too far away.
“What do we do now?” she asks, pulling her hand out of mine. She starts to braid her hair.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know either.” She leans back on the pillows, dropping her braid over her shoulder. “I’m hungry again. And kind of nauseated at the same time. This is weird.”
“Want me to bring you something?”
“I don’t know what I want. I’ll go look. You can…do whatever you want.”
I want to help her. I want to be with her. And I don’t know what else to do to make her believe me.
“Well,” Quinn says, shifting her weight. She holds her hand up to her face to block the sun and steals a look at the house behind her. It’s a little after noon and I need to leave to make it home on time. I’m on call again tonight and need to try and get some sleep just in case I’m called in. “I’ll let you know when I get an appointment.”
“Okay.” I swallow hard, fighting the urge to grab her and kiss her. I want so fucking badly to tell her I love her, that I’ve loved her for years, and even though having a baby right now wasn’t planned, it’ll be okay because in the end, we were meant to be together.
But if I say all that now, she’ll think I’m only saying it to make her feel better. She’ll think I’m making it up or overexaggerating how I feel in an attempt to show her I really do want this baby.
So I’ll wait.
We have nine months.
“And if you need anything, call me. I’m here, Quinn. Even when I’m not.”
Her eyes well with tears and she shakes her head, annoyed with herself for getting emotional.
“I know,” she says softly and puts her hand over her stomach. “It’s still weird to think about.”
“Yeah, it is.” I step closer and put my hand on top of hers. “We’re going to be okay. All three of us.”
Her lips curve into a small smile. “Better hope it’s not four.”
I laugh. “Or—nope. Not even going to say it.” She flips her hand over and I lace my fingers through hers. We’re in the driveway, right outside the garage, and out of direct line of sight from the house. She puts one hand on my shoulder, fingers pressing into my skin. Her jaw is tight, and she looks right into my eyes. I bend my head down to kiss her, and she looks away.
“Archer,” she says softly. “You don’t have to pretend to want me.”
Her words spur something inside of me, and no amount of self-control can hold me back. I pull my hand from hers, move in, and grab her by the waist. Dipping her back, I kiss her as hard as I did the first time.
“I’m not pretending,” I growl, saying each word slowly and deliberately. “I don’t pretend, Quinn.”
She clings to me, eyes wide and lips parted. “Kiss me again.”
I hold her tight and push my tongue into her mouth, knowing this is a dangerous line to cross.
Once I get started, it’s going to be hard to stop.
“Archer,” she moans, running her hand over my chest. I gather my strength and stop kissing her. “This is not helping my issue.”
“What issue?”
“You know, the one I told you about.”
“Oh, right. Sex drive.”
“Yeah.” She licks her lips and puts her other hand on my hip, slowly looping her fingers around my belt. “I am so horny,” she grumbles, looking at me like she wants to devour me. If only she knew how I felt.
“Do you want me to have sex with you?”
“Seriously? Where is the romance?” She shakes her head but hasn’t let go of me yet.