Silver Bastard (Silver Valley #1)(91)
Author: Joanna Wylde

“Thanks,” she said as I got close. I leaned over and kissed her, wondering whose bed we’d end up in tonight. I usually crashed at her place, but sometimes she liked to mix it up. She caught my hand as I stepped inside, tugging me toward the table.

“Come sit down,” she said. “Have a drink.”

“Wow, you went all out.”

She had. The table was covered in a deep maroon cloth that I recognized—she’d hemmed it with the brand new Singer sewing machine Regina had delivered last week. It wasn’t an antique, but it seemed to work all right. She’d bawled like a baby when she saw it.

That wasn’t the only crying she’d done. Becs had been terrified her foster parents would never forgive her for what she’d done, avoiding Earl and his wife for two days after we got home. Finally I’d had enough, so I put her on my bike and drove out to their place without any warning. There’d been an awkward silence, followed by hugs and tears and more dessert than should be legal.

Danielle had been less forgiving—she’d yelled at Becca for close to an hour before she decided not to hold a grudge. Blake stood behind her, arms crossed as he glared at me the entire time. I think he was somehow convinced it was all my fault. Maybe he’d just wanted in on the action. Either way, I was just thankful I didn’t have to fight him. Afterward, the girls erupted into tears and hugs, at which point Blake and I decided to join forces and get the hell out of there.

“So I’ve got your favorite beer here,” Becca announced, opening the fridge. “And I made you a pie. The spaghetti will be ready in just a minute.”

I took the beer and grabbed a chair, enjoying the sight of her cute little ass wiggling as she bustled around. Becca glanced at me, her face full of uncertainty. Then she blinked and I wondered if I’d imagined it.

“You have a good day at school?”

“Yes, it was fine,” she replied. “Um, speaking of school . . . I may be changing up my schedule a little. I’ve decided I really can’t wait four more months before graduation. They said I can start going full-time, accelerate things.”

I frowned. “You’re already crazy busy, between school and the Moose. How d’you figure you’ll pull that off?”

Becca frowned at me, but before she could respond the timer went off.

“Pasta’s ready.”

Five minutes later she handed me a plate full enough to feed the whole damned club.

“That’s a lot to eat,” I said, glancing at her. Becca smiled uncertainly, setting down her own plate. I waited for her to say something but she didn’t—just sipped her water, looking nervous. What the hell was going on here?

“You want a beer?”

Becca shook her head and sighed. “We should talk.”

“Words every man wants to hear,” I muttered. Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting. She twisted her fingers silently.

“Babe, you can just tell me,” I finally said, feeling something dark unwind deep inside. Had her mom been in touch? I knew Becca had mixed feelings about that bitch, but I didn’t. Sure, she’d stopped Teeny from killing Becca in the end. Of course, the only reason she’d needed to protect her was because she’d set her up in the first place.

I hoped she was dead. That’d be best for everyone.

“So, we’ve never really talked about the future,” Becca said slowly. “Sometimes I wonder . . . Where do you see us going, Puck?”

I frowned at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean do you see us together long term?”

“You’re my old lady,” I replied, taking a long pull of my beer. “What else is there?”

“We’ve got something good started here,” she said, her words careful. “And you know I love you. But I don’t want to trap you.”

“Not trapped, Becca.”

She stared at me, her gaze steady, hands folded on the table.

“I’m pregnant.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I’m pregnant,” she repeated and I realized her fingers were squeezing each other so tight they’d turned white. Fair enough. Something squeezed pretty damned tight in my chest, too.

“How did that happen?”

Becca stiffened.

“We forgot the condom a couple times, remember?” Her tone was hostile. Shit.

“So you’re really pregnant?”

“Yeah, I’m pregnant,” she replied, eyes narrowing. “If you’re going to run, tell me now. I won’t turn into my mom. I’m going to raise this kid right, and I won’t be counting on some man to save our asses.”

I frowned.

“I’m not some man, I’m the kid’s father. And why the hell do you think I’d run off?”

“Because a family is a lot of work—it’ll change everything.”

The words hung heavy between us and suddenly I realized this was actually happening. I was going to be a father! A thousand thoughts exploded through my head, moving too fast for me to catch them all. We’d need a bigger place—not right away, but I wasn’t going to raise a kid in an apartment overlooking Main Street. He might fall out the window.

Christ. Kids fell all the time. Ran off. Got kidnapped and murdered and . . . Fuck.

Better not be a girl. I couldn’t handle a girl.

“That why you’re finishing up school faster than you planned?” I asked Becca.

She nodded, biting her lip.

“I might not ever make it back if I don’t finish now.”

“Makes sense . . .” Shit. How could she work and finish school? That’s when it hit me—a baby meant Becca would finally have to let me help her. ’Bout fuckin’ time. I’d humored her on the whole “I’m an independent woman who pays her own way” thing so far, but no more. There were three of us now.

Three of us. Wow.

“Okay, so we need to pick an apartment,” I told her, mind racing. “I don’t care which one, but I don’t see any reason to pay more than one rent bill. That’ll save money, so you can quit at the Moose, finish up school . . .”

“Does that mean we’re staying together?”

The words threw me off. I studied her face, full of nervous tension. Great. After all we’d been through, my girl still thought I’d dump her for getting pregnant.

“Jesus, Becca,” I growled. “Who the fuck do you think I am?”