Page 11 of The Mountain Man's Mail Order Surprise
"Is this the same asshole from before?"
I nod. The concern in his voice, the protective edge, makes my chest tight with hope. "He gets violent when he doesn't get his way. The night before the conference, he had hit me for the first time then the following morning I told him I was done because I refused to become anyone’s ragdoll and he did it again right before leaving for the conference. I had barely made it through the day. I was actually meant to be staying at the Hilton. But because I was terrified, he’d actually show up at my hotel room, I had avoided going there like the plague.That’s how I ended up at the bar tat night.”
Rosco's hands clench into fists. "Tell me his full name."
"Zack Whitmore. His family owns half the real estate development companies in Vancouver. Old money, political connections, the kind of people who think rules don't apply to them."
"And he's trying to claim our baby is his?"
"We were together just before I got pregnant, so he assumed..." I touch my belly protectively. "The timing worked out in his favor, and by the time I realized what was happening, he'd already filed paperwork claiming paternal rights."
"Can't you just get a DNA test?"
"I tried. His lawyers got a court order blocking it until after the birth, claiming the procedure could be harmful to the baby. Complete bullshit, but money talks."
Rosco sits back, processing this information. I can practically see him working through the implications, the risks, the complications I'm bringing into his quiet mountain life.
"So, you need a husband to prove you're stable enough to raise our child."
"That's the simplified version, yes. But Rosco..." I lean forward, needing him to understand. "I didn't come here just because you applied to that service. I came here because it's you. Because you're the father of my baby and I've had strong feelings for you since that night in New York."
The admission hangs between us, raw and vulnerable and completely honest.
"You have feelings for me?"
"I've had feelings for you for six months. I just never thought I'd see you again to tell you."
He stands abruptly, pacing to the window overlooking his deck and the mountains beyond. For a long moment, he's silent, and I wonder if I've just destroyed any chance I had with the truth.
"I've been looking for you," he says finally, his voice rough with emotion. "Not consciously, but every woman I've met since that night, I compared them to you. None of them measured up."
"Rosco..."
"That's why I applied to the service. I was tired of being alone, and you were all I could think about." He turns back to me, and I see something in his expression that looks like decision. "So yeah. Yeah, I'll marry you. Not because you need protection, though you'll have that. Not because it's practical, though it is. But because you're right here in front of me, carrying my child, and I'm not letting you disappear again."
Relief floods through me so intensely I almost cry. "Really?"
"Really. But I have conditions."
"Name them."
"First, total honesty from here on out. No more half truths, no more secrets. If we're going to do this, I need to know everything."
I nod, even though the thought of laying my whole messy life bare to this man terrifies me.
"Second, we do this right. Legal marriage, shared living space, the whole thing. And we get that DNA test as soon as possible to prove what we both know is true."
"Okay."
"Third, your safety and the baby's safety come first. If this Zack guy shows up here looking for trouble, we handle it together. You don't try to protect me by running off again."
The protectiveness in his voice makes something warm unfurl in my chest. When was the last time someone offered to stand between me and danger?
"And fourth," he continues, his gaze holding mine, "we figure out what this is between us. Because I meant what I said. I've been half in love with the memory of you for six months, and now that you're here, I want to know if we can build something real."
My heart stutters. "You can't possibly know that after talking to me for twenty minutes."
"I knew it six months ago in New York. I just didn't know how to find you again." He moves back to his chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "I'm not looking for temporary, Gia. I'm looking for forever. With you."
