Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds #2) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,51

challenge her. “D is coming in tomorrow, and I wasn’t lying when I said he’s been working on this project all morning. Your house will be empty by tomorrow night, and a cleaning crew arrives on Saturday morning. Are you going back to your parents?”

She makes a strange noise which sounds between a wounded puppy and an angry lion. “I feel like you pushed me to go to Seattle with you.”

“No,” I claim. That’d be really stupid.

And still, here you are, you fucking idiot.

When it comes to Nyx, I jump headfirst without thinking; and I just met her. There are several questions I’ve been asking myself since I arrived in Colorado yesterday afternoon. I haven't found an answer to any of them, yet.

Why the fuck am I here? happens to be the most important of them all. Followed by my favorite, Are you out of your fucking mind?

She’s a complication with complications of her own. I don’t like children, and she’s about to have one. I’m still attracted to her, maybe even more than I was the first time I met her. That kiss we shared keeps playing in my mind—on repeat. Yesterday I didn’t kiss her when I had her in my arms because she seemed to be vulnerable, and after she delivered her news, well…I should be jumping on a plane to the other side of the world and staying there at least until the kid turns eighteen.

“How bad will it be if I stay with my parents starting tomorrow?” she asks and then leans against the seat making whimpering noises. “I love them, but I don’t think I can bear to be with them while I’m still trying to get used to the idea of having a baby. But…I should just live with them. Right?”

What does she want from me? Staying with her parents is a sensible option. In fact, that could be the solution to her current situation. I should stay quiet. I should just drop her at home and run far, far away.

I don’t do any of those, and contrary to what logic dictates, I answer, “Do you think that’s the solution to your problem?” I question and then respond automatically, “I doubt it. You might be upset, but think about what I just did for you.”

“Excuse me?” she asks appalled. “You did what for me?”

“I saved you from naming the poor baby Artemis, Hephaetus, or Hera if it’s a girl.”

“Hephaestus,” she corrects me. “He’s the god of fire. Son of Hera and Zeus. That’s a—”

“Don’t lie to yourself. With all due respect to the Greek mythology, it sounds like Heffalump,” I point out and she laughs. “You know I am right.”

“Still, I’m not sure if I should be going with you.”

“So, you plan on lying to your parents and living under a bridge so they can’t find you?” I ask, picturing her living in their shed at night to avoid them and then going into the house during the day while they are at work.

Honestly, I don’t like the picture. She’ll be better at my house where she can use any of the guest rooms. I can set up a desk in the loft area, and if she’s bored, she can use the pool. Brock can use the company—he’d love to have her around.

“Think about what’s best for the baby. You love your parents and they are looking after you, but...do you think you can deal with morning sickness, mood swings, and them at the same time?”

“You are a pushy man,” she grunts.

“No, I’m right,” I argue.

“Maybe,” she grunts.

“Let’s go then?”

“Fine, but you’re going to have to deal with a puke-y, unattractive roommate.”

“Yes, but he’s a great dog, and you’ll be watching over him, won’t you?”

She laughs and the magical sound makes me forget all the doubts and the questions I had before. This is going to be okay.

Before we leave for Seattle, we stop at a Greek restaurant nearby Centennial airport to have lunch. Unfortunately, Nyx pukes right as we enter, and we flee the joint as soon as the owner offers to clean for us.

We stop by a smoothie place where she washes up and I buy her a few drinks and a parfait. There has to be something that she can eat at least until we arrive home. During our flight to Seattle, Nyx falls asleep and it gives me plenty of time to work. She’s pretty self-sufficient, but I’d rather hang around her during her first day at home. I