I poke him in the ribs. “Your mamma would wash your mouth out with soap for using that word.”
He grins down at me. “My mamma taught me that word.” He kisses my forehead. “I want to crush him.”
“Me too.” I smile. “But so far all we have is your word against his.”
He pulls me closer, pressing another kiss to my temple. "Something will come up. It has to."
"It will."
He's quiet for a moment, then his hand tightens on mine. "The ultrasound is Thursday. Will you come with me? I don't want to go without you."
"Yes." I squeeze his hand back. "We're not separating again."
"Never," he agrees.
Fifty-Two
I JUST WANT TO SEE THE BABY.
WYATT
The waiting room at Women's Health Dallas Prenatal Care Center smells like vanilla air freshener trying to mask disinfectant. Kinsley sits beside me, her hand in mine, and I can't get over the fact that she's here.
She flew an hour and twenty-five minutes to face down a woman who might be carrying my kid with her corrupt senator daddy breathing down our necks.
That's my woman.
Brittney walks in wearing a dress that hugs her tiny baby bump. I guess the cat is out of the bag now and there’s no reason to try and hide it.
Kinsley hits record on her phone and slips it into the short outside pocket of her purse. She's videoing everything today.
I told Brittney I wouldn’t marry her. I’m assuming she told her father and he started a smear campaign. It’s impressive. They’re claiming that I seduced Brittney in an effort to sway her father to our side of the fire zoning issue.
I’m livid. If this kid is mine, there’s no chance of making that go away and I really, really want it to go away. I do not want this child growing up thinking that about his or her daddy.
The paper trail Kinsley has against the senator is impressive. We just need confirmation of his motives and the reporter Kinsley’s been working with will flood every news outlet with the senator’s corrupt political path. It will discredit him and the lies he’s spread about me.
As if there’s not enough junk tied up in this ultrasound.
The second Brittney spots Kinsley, her face twists into something ugly. "What is she doing here?" She moves in to kiss my cheek and I sidestep her.
"We're a package deal," I say, pulling Kinsley to my side. No negotiation in my voice, no room for argument. This is how it is now.
Brittney's eyes narrow. "This is private, Wyatt. Between us."
"Your father made sure that nothing about this situation is private anymore." Kinsley's voice is calm. "And if there's a chance this child belongs to Wyatt, then I have a stake in this too. After all, we’ll have joint custody."
Brittney scowls. “Whatever.”
I squeeze Kinsley’s hand. Don’t know what I did to deserve her.
A nurse calls Brittney's name before things get any uglier and we trail her through a maze of narrow hallways toa cramped room with an exam table and enough baby pictures plastered on the walls to make a man dizzy. I don't know if I'm ready for this yet. Am I really about to become a father?
The ultrasound tech looks maybe twenty-five. Her name tag reads "Melissa," and her assuring smile makes me feel a little better.
"Hi there," she starts and then stops as she takes us all in. Her gaze bounces between me, Kinsley—and our joined hands—and Brittney’s baby bump like she's trying to solve a puzzle. "So, we have... mom, and..."
"I'm the potential father," I say, keeping it simple.