“Thank God that is over,” I joke, looking over at Hayden. I don’t mean it. This has been one of the best nights I can remember having in forever, even with the awful movie.

“Oh, come on! Admit it. You loved that movie,” she defends, her face bright, lit up with laughter. Did I really think she was homely at one time?

“There was not one thing anyone could love about that movie, Hayden,” I tell her, making my face completely serious, which is harder than I thought it would be.

“But you had to like it. It’s about your people.”

“My people?” I ask her confused, I should have noticed the sneaky look on her face, but for some reason I didn’t—at least not in time.

“Of course. The caveman has to be like your long lost relative.”

“How do you figure that?” I ask, unable to stop myself.

“Oh, come on. You grunt more than you ever talk,” she laughs, surprising me. I thought she was going to make a remark about my hair or beard.

In response to her assessment, I grunt, which she finds hilarious and laughs so hard, the legs she has pulled up against her front kick out and she throws her head back in laughter. She laughs so hard she does that cute snorting thing again, taking air in loudly. In this moment, she’s everything I wish I was. Happy. Warm. Free.

I force myself to pull away from her because I have the strongest urge to take her in my arms and kiss her. I can’t help but wonder if I kissed her, would I be able to take some of that warmth inside of me? Could Hayden erase some of the cold blackness that has taken over. It’s a fool’s dream. Hell, even if it was possible, I don’t deserve it.

“Going to the bathroom,” I tell her, as I walk away. My voice is gruff, and I notice her laughter stops. I miss it almost instantly. Once I close the door, I lean my head against it and fight against the ache I feel. I haven’t touched a woman…haven’t even wanted one since before Jan died. The few times Jan and I had sex wasn’t worth the time it took. I didn’t like her, I never respected her, and if not for Annabelle, I wouldn’t have taken her back into my bed. I’ve thought about women since, but not enough to act on it. Taking a woman into my bed would mean revealing my scars, it would mean putting myself out there in a world I’m no longer part of. In a world I don’t deserve to take part of.

I know nothing of Hayden. Other than her brother was fucking scum. She has some kind of connection with the Dwellers, and if that isn’t enough, she’s pregnant. She’s the last person in the world I should be thinking about touching.

I stare off to space for a few more minutes, trying to get myself under control, trying to pull those damn walls I have back up around me. Then I get angry with myself for even contemplating this shit. Life is for the living, and I’ve been dead a fuck of a long time. I need to let Hayden know that, and demand she leave me alone.

I march in the living room to do that very thing, but I freeze when I get back in there. She’s lying on the sofa, curled up almost in a ball. Her head is resting on a throw cushion, one hand under her head and another wrapped around the front of her stomach. She’s sound asleep, and despite her growing stomach, she looks so innocent I could almost ache. She can’t sleep on that couch all night. I’m sure I felt springs poking through when I sat there. I lean down to pick her up. Her scent tingles my senses. She smells like cinnamon and vanilla, reminding me of the apple pie she made tonight. I’d like to eat her. Hayden’s body instantly curves into mine, and I feel my fucking cock stretch in interest. I’ve been dead for so long, at first, I’m not even sure what is happening. Then my cock hardens further when Hayden moans slightly before snuggling into me. Jesus, I have a hard-on. What makes it even worse is I want more. I want more even as I hate myself for wanting it.

She moans again, and her fingers dig into my shirt, capturing some of my chest hair in her hold. I ignore how good that feels and take her into her bedroom. I take her to the bed, holding her with one arm while bracing her on my knee. It isn’t hard because Hayden is way too light. She needs to eat more. A strong wind could knock her over. That can’t be good for the baby. I use my free hand to pull down her covers and quickly lay her down.

She’s still wearing her clothes, but they’re loose—she should be fine. I grab the covers and slowly pull them up to her body, stopping once they cover most of her stomach. I rest there, looking at her. Again, completely amazed at how beautiful she truly is. That golden bronze hair shines against her pillow and her face is relaxed in sleep. Right now, I’d be hard pressed to think of anyone prettier.

Then suddenly, my world is rocked even more. I feel movement against my hand that’s still gripping the cover at her waist. I move my hand so my palm lies flat against her stomach and after a second I feel the movement again. The baby. Moving. Kicking. Living. Hayden doesn’t stir, she’s completely out, but the child doesn’t seem to care. I can feel another movement under my hand. It feels as if she’s turning against my hand. Warmth fills me as I savor this connection. Again, I remember the feelings I had at the doctor’s office. This child…Maggie. She will be my purpose. I will be her protector. As if she agrees with me, Maggie kicks again and then goes still. I reluctantly drag my hand away.

The decision has been made.