Not Quite Forever (Not Quite #4)(47)
Author: Catherine Bybee

She shook out of his hold. “You stopped retuning my calls. That isn’t slowing down.”

Behind Dakota, he noticed her parents watching, the woman she came in with stood close by.

“I screwed up.”

She met his eyes. “You more than screwed up, Doc.”

“I know.”

She placed a hand to her head, reminding him instantly of her high blood pressure . . . of their baby. “You should sit down.”

Her hand fell, her eyes snapped to his. “Don’t . . .” she started one sentence, stopped, and glared. “You should leave.” She moved to the door, grasped it.

He shoved a hand in front of it.

“I think you should leave, Mr. Eddy.” Mr. Laurens moved to his daughter’s side.

Walt never played the doctor card . . . but he did now. “That’s Dr. Eddy, Mr. Laurens.” Walt placed his gaze squarely on Dakota. “I care too much for your daughter to walk away when she’s this upset.” He let his eyes move from hers down her frame to her flat stomach.

Her hand fell from the door, her face went stone white. “Who told you?”

Her family lurked over her. Who knew eye-shooting daggers could wound him? “Talk to me, Dakota . . . without an audience.”

Even though the door to the study was closed, Dakota knew someone, somewhere, was listening. She forced several deep breaths and slowed her speeding pulse. Walt found her, and he knew.

He knows.

Walt knows about the pregnancy.

“What did you tell Mary to have her betray me? I’m sure she didn’t do it willingly.”

Walt stood behind her. She moved to the floor-to-ceiling window and stared out. “Mary refused to tell me anything.”

“Then how—”

“I asked Monica to talk with Mary.”

That made a little more sense, but still, Mary wouldn’t have volunteered much without need.

“When Monica realized that you were—”

“Shh!” She uncrossed her arms and turned. “No one knows and I don’t want them to . . . not yet.”

“What about me, Dakota? Were you going to tell me?” Was that hurt in his voice?

“Of course. When I was ready.” She moved from the window, sat in her mother’s overstuffed chair, and kicked off her shoes. “I wasn’t ready . . . not that it matters now.”

Walt crossed the room and sat on the edge of the coffee table, close to her. “How are you feeling? Have you seen a doctor?” He spoke softly.

“Let’s see . . . outside of having my heart stepped on by a man I thought I had a connection with, and finding out I have a temporary medical condition that is going to stay with me for eighteen years . . . I’m just fine. And yes, of course I’ve seen a doctor.”

“We do have a connection, Dakota.” He moved his hand to rest on her knee and she pulled away. “I was an idiot. I should have told you what I was feeling.”

“Did you realize this before or after you knew I was . . .” Her words drifted off.

“Before. Didn’t you listen to my messages?”

“No.” Telling him his voice drove her to tears gave him too much power. “I didn’t want to hear you then any more than I do now.”

“Give me a chance to make it up to you.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s the truth. I have a lot to figure out and only six and a half months to do it. Juggling a boyfriend isn’t on my to do list.”

He had something to say, she saw it in the way he held himself back. “I’m not letting you do this alone.”

“I don’t see as you have a choice in the matter, Walt. The last thing I need is to wonder if you’re beside me for your baby or for me.”

Walt grasped both her hands in his. “Look at me, Dakota.”

She did, found the warm depth of his eyes and wanted to sink into them.

“If you lost the baby tomorrow I will still be here the next day. If there wasn’t a baby at all, I’d still be here trying to convince you to come back to me.”

“I’m not the one who walked away, Walt.”

He kissed her knuckles, held her hands close to his lips. “I’ll just have to work harder to get you back.”

She shook her head. “Doc—”

“Shh. I’m not giving you up. You can try and convince yourself this is a bad idea, but you’re doing that solo.” He motioned between the two of them. “This . . . this is going to work.”

“Walt—” How could he be so caring now? Where was the man who ignored her calls?

He leaned forward, placed a finger over her lips. “I know you’re not ready to tell anyone . . . about . . .” he paused, looked at her stomach.

“Not yet.”

His thumb traced her jaw, his voice softened. “How are you feeling . . . physically?”

This was the doctor asking. “I was sick this morning for the first time. I’m watching my blood pressure with one of those wrist monitors. The headaches remind me to lay down.”

“Nosebleeds?”

“Not since California.”

He smiled, dropped his hand into her lap. “Did the doctor want you on medication?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m going back next week. He said the high blood pressure could stop nearly as quickly as it started. Is that true?”

He seemed pleased she asked. “Second trimester will tell us what to look forward to.”

“Me . . . it will tell me.”

“Us, Dakota. I told you . . . I’m not going anywhere. The sooner you come to terms with that the better.”

She wanted to believe him but the saying fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me kept running in her head. “Well, you’ll have to excuse my skepticism.”

“You have every reason to doubt me. But outside of the last month I’m a pretty stand-up guy.” He lifted one corner of his mouth.

Was she really going to give him a chance?

Do I really want to do this alone?

She met his gaze, lifted her chin. “Prove it.”

He smiled now, squeezed her hands. “I plan on it.” He removed a card from his back pocket. “I’m staying at The Morrison in Savannah.”

She palmed the card.

“I didn’t know there was a Savannah in South Carolina.”

“Georgia doesn’t own the name.”

He tried to get her to smile, she didn’t. “Call anytime.”