Page 12 of The Mountain Man's Mail Order Surprise
The baby chooses that moment to deliver a particularly strong kick, and I gasp, my hand flying to my side.
"You okay?"
"He's active today. I think all the excitement has him worked up." I rub the spot where tiny feet are apparently practicing their dance moves.
"He?"
"That's what the ultrasound suggested. Though with my luck, the technician was wrong and I'll end up with a daughter who's just as stubborn as her mother."
Rosco's smile transforms his entire face, making him go from intimidating mountain man to something softer, warmer. "Either way, sounds like they'll fit right in with the Kane family."
"You have siblings?"
"I didn’t lie that night. I technically have two half brothers who don't come around much anymore. But I’m closer to my seven crazy cousins so I consider them to be my siblings. We're all slightly crazy and completely stubborn."
"And they'll be okay with you bringing home a pregnant stranger?"
"They'll love you," he says with such certainty that I almost believe him. "Especially once they hear why you're here. The Kane men have a thing about protecting people who need it."
"Is that what this is? You protecting me?"
"Maybe. Or maybe it's you saving me from dying alone in this cabin with nothing but my tools for company." He pauses, then adds quietly, "Or maybe it's fate finally giving us both what we've been looking for."
The honesty in his voice steals my breath. He means it. This isn't charity or some misguided hero complex. He actually wants this, wants me and the complications I bring. Wants our child.
"So," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "What happens now?"
"Now you put your feet up while I make dinner. Tomorrow we'll drive into town, and figure out how to make this official as fast as possible."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that." He stands, then pauses. "Unless you've changed your mind?"
I look around his warm, safe cabin, and think about sleeping without fear for the first time in months. Imagine our baby growing up with mountains outside his window and a father who will love and protect him.
"No," I say, my hand resting on my belly. "I haven't changed my mind."
"Good." Rosco heads toward the kitchen, then calls back over his shoulder. "Welcome home, Gia. I think you're going to like it here."
For the first time in years, I think a man in my life might be right.
CHAPTER THREE
ROSCO
Iwake up to the smell of coffee and the sound of someone moving around my kitchen. For a split second, panic hits. Then memory floods back, and I smile into my pillow.
Gia. She's here. She's real.And she's making coffee in my kitchen like she belongs there.
The clock reads 6:47 AM, earlier than I usually get up on weekdays. But then again, I usually don't have a pregnant woman in my house who needs feeding and taking care of. The thought sends a wave of protectiveness through me so strong it's almost overwhelming.
My woman. My baby. Mine to protect.
The possessiveness should probably scare me. We've known each other for all of thirty-six hours, and most of that time she's been running from some psychotic ex who thinks he owns her. But nothing about this situation is normal, so why should my reaction be?
I pull on jeans and a flannel shirt, then pad barefoot to the kitchen. Gia stands at the stove, her dark hair pulled back in a messy bun, wearing one of my old t-shirts that hits hermid-thigh. The sight of her in my clothes, in my space, makes something primal and satisfied rumble in my chest.
She's humming under her breath while she tends to what smells like actual food, not the usual coffee and toast I call breakfast. The morning light streaming through the windows catches the curve of her belly, and I'm hit with the reality all over again.
