My heart races hard enough to explode from my chest. I want to press my hands against it to contain the havoc.

She’s pregnant.

Some words hit like bullets, embedding into a person’s core. Changing the landscape of how you look at things. Expanding the possibilities of who you might become.

A few words from her and I’m a different man. I have to be.

Josie’s calm expression contradicts what she must feel.

“How?” The question slips from my mouth.

She tilts her head. “It wasn’t immaculate conception, as you know well since you were there.”

There’s that sarcasm, slipping from her lips as easily as it does any other day. Keeping it real and light in spite of the two-ton seriousness of the topic. If she were any other girl I’ve slept with in the past, I’d ask if she were sure it’s mine. Because I always use protection. Always.

But I understand that those fail sometimes. The thing is, it’s like being hit by an asteroid since I was inside my sweet Josie once.

I’ve messed up her life. All my fears of taking Josie’s chances of having a normal future rush into my head.

I have limited and unsavory knowledge of the genes I’d pass on to a kid. But Josie doesn’t know this. No one but me and my folks know the magnitude.

I’ve got to tell her. She came from normal parents. Good people. Loving people. My own genetic history is like a skeleton I’ve managed to keep hidden, until now.

My skeleton pokes a knobby finger into my gut.

Pregnant? My throat tightens. Josie is going to have my child. The girl I’ve vowed to protect from the unsavory shit of the world because she deserves everything.

She widens her eyes and raises her brows. “Say something.”

Her voice is strong and sure. How can she be so calm when I’ve changed her world and she’s changed mine? She stares down into her tea like she’s reading a fortune in that damned cup.

“That’s why you’re here,” I say.

These are the wrong words. Stupid, empty words. A statement of the obvious when I don’t have coherent thoughts.

She wants me to say more, but my mind can’t string together the right words.

Josie squirms uncomfortably in her seat. Her lips tipped at the right corner in self-mockery. “Yes, it’s why I’m here. I shelved a Kama Sutra book in the children’s section, so I thought I needed a day off.”

The room isn’t large, a combination family room with a kitchen tucked into the corner, but Josie’s expression, a barrier between us. I sit at the table, needing to be near her. Light streams through the east window and glistens across her dark hair as she dips her head to stare into the teacup again. The air is still and silent. Yes. This is the right place to sort this out and decide what comes next.

“When did you find out?” I lean forward on my elbows and study her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Not long ago. I went to the doctor to be sure.”

I’m suddenly hurt at being left out. “I should’ve been there with you. Why didn’t you call me the minute you found out?”

She shrugs. “I’m a big girl. The doctor visit was fine.”

What I really need is to fall to my knees and ask her forgiveness. Beg and plead for her understanding.

She shakes her head and rises from the table. “I know you feel responsible. But it’s okay. I mean, I’m a little nervous about the whole idea of shoving something the size of a bowling ball through a peephole. But women have been doing this since—”

“Butterfly. I’m going to take care of you. You and the…” The word ‘baby’ sticks somewhere between the back of my tongue and my lips.

“Our baby,” she says.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

This pisses me off. “Of course, I do. What kind of dirt bag do you think I am? It’s what I want.”

She dips her chin and lifts her eyes to mine. “Josie,” she mimics. “I don’t want a family or a wife. Kids or a dog. Ever.”

We stare at each other for an eternity. My words. How can I explain? How can I make this right? I just want to go back to the old relationship where we make each other laugh and smile and all is right with the world.

“I never said that about a dog,” I tease to awkwardly break the silence.

“I warn you that my sense of humor is fleeting and volatile. Only I get to make the jokes right now. Okay? Your bachelorhood is safe. I came up here because I’m thinking about selling the store. Just last week, my old roommate Ashton contacted me about taking a technical writing job with her company in New York. She made me an offer and I turned it down, but I bet I could tell her I changed my mind. I’ve always wanted to live in New York.”

“Stop it,” I roar like a hurt animal and she stares at me with her mouth open. I don’t know which to address first, the bachelor jab or selling the store or moving away from me. Leaving me. My heartbeat thumps in my ears and my throat. She’s my Josie. Mine. I need to calm down and make her understand how we are in this together.

“I’m sorry I yelled. You surprised me. But what I said before, I didn’t know about…” I wave a hand toward her body. “It changes everything.”

“Hm…it doesn’t change how you feel.” Her tight voice makes me want to draw her into my arms, but her expression tells me she won’t like that. She scoots away from me and gets to her feet with the tea cup in hand. “Wow,” she says in a quick change of topic. “This tea is going to save me. I’m sorry to say I’m one of those putrid pregnancies. All shiny from the sheen of nausea, topped off with an evergreen tinge. The doctor suggested wheat crackers and ginger tea, the promised anecdote. It worked.”

“You have morning sickness?”

“This is what I’m saying.” She rinses her cup and places it beside the sink.

I eye the distance between us. “Come sit with me.”

Giving me a wary look, she returns to her seat to my right. “I came up here to be alone. I appreciate that you think you need to support me, but…”

Instead of finishing her sentence, she inhales deeply and gives me a stiff smile, the corners of her mouth pulling up with obvious effort.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be a father.” I reach across and take her cool fingers in both my hands.

“I know. I’ve had a few more days than you to process it.”

“You can’t be up here alone. Plus we have a lot to talk about. I need the name and the address of our doctor. You can move in with me. We’ll—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up.” She tugs her hands from mine and gets to her feet. “Did you think that I’d suddenly want to move in with you and play house especially after you just gave me all the reasons why we can’t be together. Come on Dane. You made your feelings on a family very clear to me.”

“That’s not really fair.”

“Fair? This is not about fair.” Her voice drops to a whisper and I know her throat is tight. Like Pavlov’s dog, mine tightens in response to her emotions. What have I done?

“Don’t shut me out.”

She straightens her spine and tips her chin up. “I have someone else to think about now besides myself, and you’ve just told me your true feelings when nothing else was in the way to influence them.”

“Butterfly, I said all that before. You deserve better than me. But now you have me whether that’s best or not.”

Josie rolls her eyes at me. “If you want to be in this baby’s life, I’m not going to deny you. But I won’t have you hanging around because of some feeling of responsibility. I can take care of this child.”

“I can help. I am invested in this baby’s life. Please don’t make decisions without me.”

She wraps her arms around her chest and shivers. “I’m freezing in here.”

I sense she’s changed the subject on purpose, but I get to my feet and hurry to the wood that we brought inside.

Josie walks to the sofa and sits, pulling a blanket over herself. She silently watches me make a fire in the stove from a safe distance. I glance over at her several times. “You know, you’re going to make me crazy.”

“Yeah, and how’s that?”

“You said you were thinking about someone else now. The baby. But you’re doing things that are dangerous. You can’t just rush out to the middle of nowhere without telling people what’s going on. Especially me.”

“I’m capable of taking a trip alone.” She tucks the blanket under her chin as if she would like nothing more than to burrow underneath it.

I close the front access door of the wood stove. “No one would ever call you helpless. But I’m here now so talk to me.”

“You wouldn’t understand all the things I’m worried about at this moment.”

“Try me.” What’s happening to us? I get that she’s freaking out. But Josie tells me everything.

She purses her lips and blows out a long breath. “I keep wishing Mom were alive to support me, to advise me, to be happy about this.” Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and she dabs the corners of her eyes with her knuckles. One sniffle and a too-wide smile crosses her lips. “Quit looking at me like that. I’m fine.”

But she’s not. She’s holding everything inside. I’m the person she needs to confide in. The instinct to comfort her—in spite of her declaration of strength—gets the best of me.

I stroll over and sit on the sofa. Pulling the edge of the blanket up and scooting closer to her. “Your folks were great. They would be really happy. Well, after your dad shot me, they’d be really happy.”

“Who are you kidding?” she asks. “They were crazy about you.” She drops her head back on the sofa. “You’re the first person to know. Actually, Harper suspects. She’s the one who bought me a pharmacy pregnancy test.”

I tug her feet onto my lap, wrap my fingers around her small ankles and caress the soft skin above her socks. My chest aches and panic threatens, but I know I have to be honest. It’s time. “I have something to tell you. Something about me and you’re going to say it doesn’t matter, but it does.”

“You’re scared of babies.” She traces the pattern on the blanket and chuckles low. Her fingertip moves round and round on the circles of a quilt pattern. “Oh wait. That’s me.”

“No. That’s not it.” I grab her hand to still its dizzying motion. Her anxiety only feeds my own. Josie has known I’m adopted. All my friends know. This shouldn’t be hard to say. Just get it over with. “I found my real mother and let’s just say some things are better left unknown.”

Josie sits up, pulling her feet away. “I thought she was dead.”

“Me too, until a year ago.” I wish Josie would leave her feet in my lap because I miss the warmth of her touch.

“So, how’d you find out?” Her soft voice eases my worry that she’ll not understand why it’s a big deal.

“My parents got stranded out of town when it iced over one time. Dad asked me to get some paperwork out of the safe at their house. I wasn’t snooping, but there was this contract that fell out when I was looking for what Dad wanted.”

“And you read it.”

“It had my name on it. I couldn’t stop myself.” I pause, something big and horrible pressing in on my chest like it did that day.

“What kind of contract?”

“Ellen Philips—my birth mother—lives in Nashville. She signed legal documents agreeing to never see me again. Never contact me.”

“Oh, Dane. I’m so sorry.”

“Well, my parents were right to do it. I didn’t think it at the time, but I was hurt and confused. So, I looked her up and I’ve regretted it since.”

Tiny lines mar her forehead. “Why?”

“Let’s just say she’s not what I imagined. I don’t know how to explain it. She’s…well…she’s different from other people. I had this dumb idea that we’d meet and I’d see myself in her. That we’d have this immediate bond and I’d have that missing thing. That’s what it was like when I thought she was dead. A mysterious something that I’d wonder about on holidays or a birthday.”

She’s silent and trying to read her mind is like breaking World War II codes. My palms perspire, but I forge on in hopes that she’ll say something. Anything. “And I didn’t want someone in my life to have to deal with Ellen because she’s…”

I wet my lips as if it will aid the words in sliding past them.

“She’s what?” Josie tilts her head.

I picture the last time I saw Ellen. She’d called and said it was an emergency. When I arrived, she stood on her sidewalk in front of her apartment, hands on her hips and narrowed eyes. “Stop stealing my mail,” she’d said. “Don’t ever take my things again. I can put a hit out on you. I know people in the mafia.”

She turned in one movement and left me standing with my mouth open.

I hate that my mind jumps to all the bad times with Ellen and not the good. It shouldn’t be that way.

“Josie,” I say as evenly as I can. “Ellen is mentally unstable. Sick. It’s not something that can be cured with a pill or a shot. She’s fine most of the time, but she relapses. And now that I know she’s my birth mother, I can’t turn my back on her. It’s funny because I don’t even really know her after a year.”

I pause, expecting Josie to comment. But she doesn’t say a word and stares at me wordlessly.

I link my fingers behind my head in frustration, looking at the floor for a moment and then back up to her. “What if I’m like that someday? What if I pass the gene on to my kids? This is why I declared myself a bachelor for life. This is what almost caused me to lose my best friend and child.”

She looks away to the window. “I’ll always be your best friend.”

I gently take her chin and tilt her face toward me. “Just say you’ll give me a chance to take back what I said to you earlier. Please.”

“I appreciate your honesty. Really. I get it that this whole thing with your birth mother has you confused and angry. I wish you’d confided in me sooner. All this tells me that maybe we haven’t been as close this year as I thought. When you told me why we couldn’t be together, I think you said things that you actually feel, deep down in your bones. The last thing I want is for a baby to be the whole reason you want me.” She tucks her lips into her mouth and her eyebrows knit together.

Reaching one arm around her, I shake my head. Her shoulders tense underneath me. “No, you’re wrong. You’re so wrong,” I say.

Then she does the unexpected by dropping her head onto my chest. “We’ll figure all this out. But I can’t make the decision today. I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear that. Today, I’m trying to find a calm place to rest. I’ve been a wreck.”

“You’re right. We have plenty of time to talk. Rest now. Close your eyes. I’ve got you, Butterfly.”

“I know.” With that, her breathing slows and she snuggles in closer. “I’m sorry, Dane. I know you never wanted this.”

“Hush. I messed up earlier, with what I said.” I kiss the top of her head, reveling in the feel of her silky hair. I’m going to be a father to Butterfly’s baby. Unexpected. Hell yes. Unwanted? Never.

I simply have to prove how I really feel about her.

And prove my adoptive parents raised a son capable of real love and devotion.

It isn’t long before her steady breathing tells me she’s sound asleep. She curls her body into mine, a posture full of trust and affection that I wish we could stay like this for days.

We’ll return to the real world soon enough, and I’ll repair the damage I’ve done with my words.