Page 119 of Double Daddies
I tighten my grip on her, telling her better than words ever could that I’m here for her, whatever she needs. Ben is right—I might have my preference, but I will love Camille Rodgers in whatever capacity she’ll allow me. I’ll be there for whatever she needs, even if it winds up what she doesn’t need is me.
Cami lets out a deep breath and lifts her head to look at Ben.
I give her an encouraging squeeze.
“You aren’t the kind of person to love someone and stop,” he continues. “And you love Ryle. I can see it in the way you look at him, the way you perk up when he walks into a room.”
Slowly, she nods, her eyes locked on his.
“And I know you love me.” He winks, and it makes Cami giggle.
It’s my turn. “If your friends, your family, whoever can’t accept what you want—what makesyouhappy—that might be hard, but we’ll figure it out together. One day at a time. Like Ben said, we’re here for you, so if there’s any worrying to do, leave it to us.”
She looks at me and the relief, the gratitude in her eyes makes the feeling in my chest dissipate. Ben’s right: she loves me, and this thing, this wild, unconventional, beautiful thing between all of us, is for keeps.
Chapter Seven
Cami
My brother is already sitting down when we finally enter the steakhouse. For one thing, he always arrives fifteen minutes early because he’s compulsively punctual, but my little freak out outside didn’t help, either.
Kingslay is getting to his feet when I spot him, and if he finds it weird that I walk in with not only Ben, but another man he’s never met before, he doesn’t say so. Instead, he shakes Ben’s hand, and then turns and accepts Ryle’s too.
Ryle pulls out a chair, and I sit, thankful to not be holding myself up by sheer willpower.
A waitress bustles up as soon as we’re all seated and takes our drink orders. Then Kingslay looks at me, and I know it’s coming. He’s not a man who wastes time.
“Well. I’m sensing there’s a story here.”
I tear the top of the straw wrapper and peel it off the straw. I begin fidgeting with the wrapper, tying it into knots over and over again.
“Cami?”
I jerk the wrapper hard, and the paper rips. I frown at it, and reach for another straw, tearing the top off the wrapperto begin anew. I can feel all of them looking at me, and the heat of their stares is almost too much. It’s enough to make me wish I’d brought Helen or Rayna with me to even out the male testosterone just a bit.
I look at Ben, silently pleading with him to rescue me. I don’t know what to say, or how to start this. Almost imperceptibly, he shakes his head, and I feel a flare of panic. Isn’t this his job as a Daddy—to help me? To protect me?
My wide, anxious eyes must communicate my questions, because under the table his hand finds mine. He strong fingers entwine with mine, holding me firmly. At the same time, Ryle scoots his chair closer to mine and his arm slides across my shoulders.
Letting out a slow exhale, I force myself to face Kingslay. His familiar eyes, moss green with brown flecks, look back at me. His expression is inscrutable, but I see the lowered brow over his right eye, his tale-tell sign that he’s worried. His concern, evident probably only to me, spurs me to speak.
“I’m pregnant.”
Silence greets my blurted pronouncement, and Ben’s fingers squeeze mine again. I can feel Ryle’s body shift toward me.
Kingslay is aware of these things, even though his eyes never leave my face. I know this because my brother is the most perceptive person I’ve ever met. All doctors have to be, but he is especially gifted. This ability makes him a great surgeon… but these powers make it hard to hide anything from him as a little sister.
“Is there anything else you want to add to that, Cami?” he asks, his voice soft and smooth, as though this is a conversation about work, or something mundane.
“Um…” I shift my gaze between Ben and Ryle and then back to my brother. I bite down on my bottom lip, pinning it down, refusing to let it tremble. But he sees what I’m not saying. Healways has. I hate it, and I love it at the same time. I don’t trust myself to say anything else without breaking down.
“Okay.” He nods once. “Okay. How are you feeling?”
I’m so caught off guard by the question that I laugh. “How am I…”
“Yes. Mom had terrible pregnancies. It’s why it’s only us two.”
I’m so surprised by this turn of conversation, yet so relieved and grateful. I squeeze Ben’s hand back for the first time, and I feel myself relax. “So far I feel okay. I only got sick in the beginning.” I move my free hand to the wooden table and rap my knuckles on the white tablecloth, knocking the wood beneath it for luck.
