Page 6 of Curvy Girl and the Bad Boy Cowboy

The words sting because they're aimed at my weakest points. Consistency and reliability aren't exactly my defining traits.

"I know that," I snap. "I'm not completely clueless."

"No, you're not clueless," Jackson agrees. "You're just—"

"A screwup?" I finish for him.

"I didn't say that."

Before I can respond, the front door opens, and Vincent appears, looking exhausted but alert. His eyes narrow when he sees us both still up.

"What's going on?" he asks, shutting the door behind him. "I saw someone driving away when I pulled in."

Jackson and I exchange glances.

"That was Naomi," I admit. "She came by to tell me something."

Vincent raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue.

"She's pregnant," I say, the words still feeling foreign on my tongue. "Four months. It's mine."

To his credit, Vincent doesn't immediately launch into a lecture. Instead, he removes his jacket, hangs it by the door, and joins us in the living room, taking the second armchair.

"How are you feeling about that?" he asks, his tone surprisingly neutral.

"Terrified," I admit. "But I told her I'll be there for the baby."

Vincent nods slowly. "That's the right first step."

"What were you doing out so late anyway?" Jackson asks him.

"Lucy had a nightmare. Charlotte was up with her, but I went out for some of that special ice cream she likes from the 24-hour place in Millbrook." Vincent shrugs. "It helps."

That simple statement—that mundane detail of fatherhood—hits me with unexpected force. This is what being a parent is: middle-of-the-night ice cream runs and knowing exactly what will comfort your child.

"I don't know how to do any of this," I confess. "How did you do it, Vince? When you suddenly had Lucy to raise?"

Vincent leans forward, elbows on his knees.

"I screwed up a lot at first," he says honestly. "I had no idea what I was doing. Still don't half the time."

"But you make it look so easy."

He lets out a short laugh. "It's not easy. But it's worth it." He pauses, studying my face. "The real question is: what about you and Naomi?"

"What about us?"

"Are you planning to co-parent separately, or is there something more there?"

I stare at my hands. "I don't know. We were never really together-together. Just... seeing each other."

"For how long?" Jackson asks.

"About six months, off and on." I hesitate. "But we ended things a couple months ago."

"Why?" Vincent presses.

"She wanted more. Commitment. A real relationship." I swallow hard. "I wasn't ready for that."

---