One week later…

Terry’s my name, movin’ dirt is my game.

I found the best way to keep my mind off Scotty was doing just that—working. I’d been slaving away at a feverish pace, getting up at dawn and coming in at dusk. Filling my day with as many tasks as possible was the best way to keep my mind from wandering, from replaying the moment my fated mate walked away from me forever.

Whether it meant moving dirt from here to there, spreading fertilizer, pulling weeds, fixing irrigation lines or heading into town for parts or random things needed on the farm, I was the go-to guy.

“You’re gonna work yourself to exhaustion,” Preston had warned me. “You’re pulling more than your share here.”

“I’ll be alright,” I had told him, shrugging it off. “Gotta do something, right?”

I wasn’t sure what I was doing was right, but I didn’t have any better ideas at the moment. I’d thought about heading back to California to see my folks, but that somehow felt like failure to me. I didn’t want to head back home with my tail between my legs like a little boy. If I went back to California, I wanted to do it with my shit together—with my mate.

Leaving the farm didn’t make any sense either. My pack were the only friends I had. Where would bailing on them get me? So, it was back to the dirt. How fitting.

I was shoveling loam from a pickup truck and adding it to the pile beside one of the fields as the sun went down. My hands were sore, I was sweating like a pig and I had run out of water an hour ago. I’d probably also missed dinner, but I wasn’t ready to go back just yet.

Most people would have left the loam in the back of the truck and shoveled it out the next day, but I had no reason to go home early. All I’d end up doing was sitting in the house anyway. A week ago I would have just headed into Austin to scrounge up some ass, but I wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. The pain of losing Scotty was still fresh in my mind. The wound had yet to close. All I could do until it healed was bind it the best I could and keep on keeping on.

I scraped out the last of the loam, wiped the sweat from my brow and looked out over the farm. Things were coming along nicely, and we were seriously going to have to bring on some more help soon. I threw the shovel back in the truck, slammed the tailgate, hopped in and headed back to the house.

The farm really was beautiful, especially at sundown. The rows of crops were oddly satisfying as I passed them as I drove. But I couldn’t help but think about what was missing. Scotty…

As the farm came into view, I saw something I didn’t recognize. A black car parked in front of the house. It was expensive, probably this year’s model, with a flawless paint job and sparkling rims.

“What the hell…?”

As I pulled up beside it, I tried looking through the windows to see who was inside, but they were tinted so dark it was impossible. I shut off the truck and hopped outside. We rarely ever got visitors out on the farm, and when we did, they certainly didn’t drive expensive sedans like the one parked out front. Taking the steps two at a time, I yanked open the front door and stepped inside.

“Hey, who the hell’s car is that—?” I couldn’t even finish my sentence. Because there, sitting on the couch in front of me, was Scotty.

“Hi, Terry,” he said simply. Jamie and Preston were sitting beside him, but when they saw me, got to their feet and headed towards the back of the house.

“We’ll give you two some space,” Preston said with a nod.

I almost couldn’t believe it. Two emotions hit me at the same time: love and panic. Of course I still loved him—how could I not? But I’d spent the last week telling myself I’d never see him again and that he’d betrayed me. So seeing him in front of me had me absolutely panicked. I couldn’t believe he’d be back for any good reason, as that would fly in the face of everything that had happened. So what was it then?

“What are you doing here?” I asked him. The words were out of my mouth before I even had a chance to think. It was harsher than I’d planned on, and for a moment I regretted it.

Scotty looked up at me, and I had to fight every urge I had to snatch him up in my arms and hold him close to me. He was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a baby blue button up shirt. His eyes were wide, vulnerable, and drove straight to my heart. I held his gaze as long as I could, and was about to look away when finally, he spoke.

“Terry. I’m pregnant.”