By the time Brittany trudged to passenger pick-up, it was almost three o’clock in the morning. Hungry, nauseated and exhausted, she wasn’t sure what to expect.
Her mother had given Brittany an hour to pack and even refused to allow her to use the phone. Instead Cora had called a taxi for Brittany and sent the kids out to play. The creaking of the rocker as her mother moved back and forth, studying her, wore on Brittany’s aplomb. For whatever reason, Cora had relented and handed her the cell phone, ordering her to call Bryson and tell him what was going on, starting off with her pregnancy.
Mid-conversation, Cora had grabbed the phone from Brittany and told her to get out and wait for the cab outside.
She’d intended to tell the scraggly little man to take her to Stephanie’s house. She’d just hang on her porch until she came home, even if she had to wait there all night. But right before the driver closed her door, her mother had bustled out, stuffed some bills into the man’s hands and told him to drive her to the airport.
“By the time you get there, your brother will have a flight booked for you,” Cora growled to her. “I told him just to turn you out. You shouldn’t be bringing no damn baby into his life. He has enough problems. As usual he wouldn’t listen. He just loves the ground you walk on.”
Brittany’s throat had hurt with the effort not to cry but she’d glared at her mother and snatched the door shut. Just as her mother promised, Bryson had reserved a seat for her by the time Brittany arrived at the airport an hour later. But her wait had been hours and hours between the time she’d arrived and the time her plane left.
Now she was finally back in Houston and Trey had to know of his impending fatherhood. Bryson had vowed to do some very unspeakable things to Trey, even though Brittany had begged him to let her be the one to tell him.
Bryson was too furious to listen. Of course. What else could she expect from him?
As she waited for her luggage, she wished she could’ve witnessed how Trey took the news. Once things had calmed and she’d had time to think, she realized she was overjoyed. If she couldn’t have Trey, she’d have his baby. She expected him to support their child but nothing more. She didn’t even expect to live in the apartment any longer than she must.
Even though she was stronger now than she’d been during her first visit, the prospect of living alone was daunting. But she’d find a way to succeed. Two bachelors wouldn’t want a pregnant woman under foot, especially when one of those bachelors was the reason the woman was pregnant.
Brittany placed a hand on her belly. With a frown she realized she needed an obstetrician. And a job. Without one, she couldn’t afford private care and she recoiled at the thought of public assistance. She was already enough of a statistic.
Glancing at the clock, she saw twenty minutes had gone by since the plane landed. When she spotted one of her bags, she sagged in relief. She dragged the long, overstuffed duffel bag to the floor. Once she retrieved the other two pieces, she found a luggage cart.
As she struggled to load the big duffle bag, strong hands grabbed it from her. She whirled around.
“Trey?” she whispered, relieved at the sight of him, more than she should have been, considering the state of their relationship.
He bit down on his lip, tenderness softening his dark eyes. “Baby girl.”
“Trey,” she repeated, stepping into his open arms and hugging him.
Kissing the top of her head, Trey then searched her face. He hefted the bag she’d been struggling like hell with over a shoulder then splayed a hand over her belly. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
“I would never keep such news from you.”
“You must already be eight weeks along.” He caressed her. “When did you intend to let me know?”
“I just found out.”
“You must hate me, Brit,” he said, heading to the passenger pickup.
When she hefted another bag onto the cart, he jerked it from her.
“You shouldn’t be lifting anything heavy.”
“How do you think I got my bags here?” She shrugged. “I’ve been lugging them around for almost twenty hours.”
Trey threw the duffle bag on the cart, anger lighting his eyes. He began rolling the cart forward. “Come on, sweetheart. Bryson is outside.”
She swayed a little and Trey cursed, taking her hand in his while still guiding the cart. Since they weren’t a couple she snatched her hand away. Their affair couldn’t even be classified as a relationship, it had been so brief.
Surprise sharpened Trey’s features but Brittany raised her chin and folded her arms.
“You’re exhausted,” Trey said with remorse. “I’m only trying to help you.”
“I can stand on my own two feet. You’re giving me a great deal of help by taking care of my luggage.”
“We need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.”
“You’re having my baby.”
“Yes but that doesn’t change our status.”
“The hell it doesn’t.”
The doors opening prevented her response. She stepped outside and spotted Bryson standing next to his cruiser. “Bryson!” she cried, overjoyed at seeing her brother and running into his outstretched arms.
He wrapped her in his embrace. When she would’ve stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, he lifted her off her feet, giving her easy access.
“Oh, Bryson.”
“It’s okay, Britty,” he whispered. “You’re here and everything is going to be fine. Trust me.”
Vaguely she recalled Trey saying something similar. Too tired to argue, she ignored Trey’s inscrutable look.
He held the back door open and she slid in, curling up on the seat.
“I guess you have to sit up front with me, pardner,” Bryson said, amused.
“I guess I do,” Trey agreed without inflection.
Once Bryson put the cruiser into motion, her extreme exhaustion set in fully and she fell asleep. All too soon, Trey’s voice reached her through a dreamy haze.
“We’re here, baby girl.”
Brittany roused herself, yawned and sat up. Hues of grays and pinks painted the early morning sky a lovely palette, promising endless possibilities. She’d worked hard to overcome her demons and she had to remain grounded. Idealism didn’t have a place in her life. What she wanted and what was possible were two different things. She had to remember that at all costs. She and Trey would come to a meeting of the minds about the baby and lead separate lives.
“I have a meeting after my shift ends,” Bryson said.
Trey held out his hand and helped Brittany from the back seat.
“I’ll see you two later this afternoon,” Bryson added.
Her stomach growled, compounding her nausea, and she groaned.
“You’re fine,” Trey soothed.
“No I’m not,” she snapped, shoving him. “I’m hungry and I’m nauseated and I’m not sure if I want to eat and then throw up or throw up and then eat. That’s the farthest thing from fine.”
“You’re just pregnant. Your body is going through the normal changes.”
“You sound as if you have a lot of experience dealing with pregnant women. How many little Treyshauns have you populated the earth with?”
“None,” Trey said.
His amusement annoyed her to no end.
“Our baby will be my first.”
A shiver of pleasure rushed through Brittany at his possessiveness. He gazed at Bryson.
“Bring the rest of her luggage while I help Brittany in and carry her duffle bag.”
Bryson saluted him. “Aye, aye, Sergeant Wilson.”
Brittany felt grateful Trey was holding her. She would’ve slid to the floor otherwise. The three of them rode the elevator up to the third floor in silence.
She stepped into the hallway and slowed her steps. She was back at the scene of the crime. She shivered.
“You’re fine,” Trey repeated. “See all the locks?” He indicated the two deadbolt keyholes and another keyhole on the doorknob.
After unlocking them, Bryson swung open the door and flipped on a light. “Trey installed them yesterday so you’d feel safe.”
Without commenting, Brittany staggered to the nearest chair and dropped into it.
Bryson pointed to the door after Trey closed it. “Look, Brit.”
Her mouth fell open at the sight of the two deadbolts, the lock on the doorknob, a chain lock and a slide lock. She giggled. “Don’t you think you went a little overboard?”
Bryson laughed along with her.
Trey gave her a half-smile. “A steel-plated door would’ve seemed a little out of place, don’t you think?”
“I suppose so.” Her stomach growled again and her nausea worsened. Even though she was seated, the room spun.
“Take care of my sister,” Bryson warned, stopping to kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you later this afternoon. Everything will be fine,” he reiterated for the millionth time. Then, he left and she and Trey were alone.
“Give me five minutes. Let me put your luggage in the room.”
“Do you have any soda crackers? I haven’t eaten in about thirty-six hours.”
“Don’t faint on me, sweetheart.” Trey dropped the duffle bag and rushed to her. Crouching down, he rubbed her cheek. “Is there a reason you haven’t eaten in a day and a half?”
“Do you want me to be arrested for stealing a banana or a bag of chips from one of the airport vendors? I had no money to eat. Momma put me out and just gave me time to pack my things.”
“Didn’t Bryson send you money every week?”
“Momma took it.”
“Son-of-a-bitch,” Trey gritted, rising to his feet and heading to the kitchen.
Brittany heard him opening cabinet doors and running water. A burner flickered as the gas on the stove tried to ignite. Another curse then the microwave door opened and closed. He must’ve forgotten she’d asked for soda crackers. If she stood up now, she’d drop so she just had to wait until he finished his own breakfast.
Soon, Trey sauntered back into the room, carrying a box of Saltines and a mug with steam curling from it. He set both down on the sofa table—out of her reach—before coming and lifting her out of the chair and carrying her to the couch.
Then he sat down beside her and leaned over. After handing her the box of salted crackers, he picked up the mug.
“Weak tea,” he announced.
Brittany nibbled on the crackers, allowing the tea to cool. Before she knew it, she’d finished off half a pack. Trey brought the mug to her lips and she sipped.
Yuck! It was weak all right, so weak it could barely pass for tea. More like tea-flavored water. When he offered her another drink, she shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“That bad, huh?”
She leaned back on the sofa. “Worse.”
“You need to sleep.” After that announcement, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bedroom.
“I’m capable of walking,” Brittany protested as he laid her down. She sat right back up, ignoring the queasiness. “Which I intend to do so I can go to the guestroom.”
Trey blocked her escape and urged her back onto the pillow. “There’s no guestroom.”
“I’m not sleeping in here with you.”
“We’ll discuss everything later. For now, go to sleep.”
She’d take his advice. Fatigue wore her down, which would put her at a disadvantage when Trey began talking to her. Because, despite his assumptions, nothing had changed between the two of them just because she carried his baby.