Fate (Steel Brothers Saga #13) - Helen Hardt Page 0,79

something to do, his eyes said.

“Why don’t we go out on the deck?” Lucy suggested. “It’s a beautiful evening.”

I loved the deck. Did I really want to do this out there?

Yes, I did. We’d be outside, so my parents wouldn’t yell. Not that I thought they’d yell. They’d treated me with kid gloves since junior year. Still, being outside, in the beauty of a Colorado evening, would be nice. Maybe would make what I had to do a little easier.

“Coffee?” my mother asked.

“That I’ll take,” Brad said.

I agreed as well. I didn’t want to be kept awake tonight, but coffee bought me a few more minutes while my mother prepared it.

Brad sat next to me on the patio couch. I desperately wanted him to hold my hand, and I wanted him not to just as desperately. How affectionate were we allowed to be in front of my parents? I had no idea.

Except that I did.

I was an adult. I could be affectionate with the man I loved in front of whomever I wanted.

I exhaled slowly and grabbed Brad’s hand. It was warm in my own, and so comforting.

Brad and Dad continued to chat about college and the ranch until Mom came out with the coffeepot and cups. She poured us each a cup, offered cream and sugar, and then sat down.

It was time.

The bell was tolling.

And it was tolling for me.

Brad squeezed my hand.

And I opened my mouth.

Then shut it just as quickly.

I took a drink of my coffee and burned the roof of my mouth. Great.

I put the coffee down and inhaled sharply.

You’re an adult, Daphne. You did nothing wrong. You’re in love with this man, and he’s in love with you. All is good.

I opened my mouth once more. “Mom, Dad…?”

“Yes, honey,” my mom said.

“Brad and I have some news.”

This perked my father up. “Oh?”

“Yeah. We realize we haven’t known each other that long, but…”

God, please help me.

Brad squeezed my hand once more.

“We’re in love,” I said.

“So soon?” my mother asked.

This time Brad spoke. “Yes, we are. I love your daughter very much.”

I smiled and met his dark-eyed gaze. He was so confident, so self-assured. He made me believe we could actually do this.

“Anyway, we didn’t mean for this to happen, but—”

My mother went pale. “Oh my God. Are you all right, Daphne?”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine.”

“Thank goodness. You’re feeling good, then? No…dreams?”

I’d had the nightmares a few times since I arrived at school, but I didn’t want to worry my mother. “No, Mom. No dreams.”

She smiled weakly.

“We… Well, the truth is…”

“I love her,” Brad said again, squeezing my hand.

“And I love him,” I said. “We’re getting married.”

My father regarded us sternly. “I hope you’re planning a long engagement. Say three or four years?”

Brad spoke again. “More like three or four weeks.”

My father lifted his eyebrows. He was a smart man. Surely he knew what was coming.

I gathered my courage. “I’m pregnant.”

My mother’s hand flew to her mouth. “Daphne, no.”

“Just so you know,” Brad said, “we did use protection. We weren’t irresponsible.”

“Not irresponsible?” my mother shrieked. “She’s eighteen! You took advantage of her.”

“No, he didn’t,” I said. “I knew exactly what I was doing.”

“How could you know what you were doing? You don’t—”

“Lucy!” my father roared.

My mother stopped midsentence, her face still white, and pressed her lips together into a straight line.

“Young man,” my father said to Brad, “you and I need to have a conversation.”

“Of course,” Brad said. “I’ll listen to anything you have to say. Daphne and I didn’t plan this, but I love her. I can give her a good life on the ranch. She can still finish her first year of college and then go back later. We’ll make this work. We’re both determined.”

“I don’t doubt the sincerity of your words, Brad.” He stood. “Come with me.”

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Brad

I stood and followed Jonathan back into the house.

“About that nightcap,” he said.

“No, thank you.”

“You don’t have to have one, but I do, and we’re not having it here.”

“You want to go somewhere?”

“A little Irish pub about a mile away from here. I want to talk to you in private.”

Jonathan ordered an Irish whiskey, and I decided to join him. One drink wouldn’t hurt, and I could use a little relaxation. Jonathan seemed so serious.

I took a drink of the liquor and let it burn a trail down my throat. Then I turned to him. “I really do love her, Mr. Wade.”

“Jonathan, please.”

“All right. Jonathan.”

“I know you love her, son. She’s a very special girl.”

“She is.”

“It’s soon, but I see it in your eyes. You want to take care of her.”

“I do. And I will.”

“I believe you want to. I truly do. You certainly have the means, and I believe that you used protection.”

“I did. A condom, like I said.”

“Things happen,” he said.

“Yes,” I agreed, not sure where he was going.

“So you love her, but you haven’t known her long, and you’re both so young. Is this really what you want?”

“It is, sir. I’ve thought of nothing but Daphne since I first laid eyes on her. Would I have liked to go a little slower? Of course. But what’s done is done. It can’t be undone.”

“Well, it could be.”

“Neither of us wants an abortion.”

“I understand. And adoption?”

“We talked about it. But I love Daphne, and I want her to be my wife. I’d hate knowing we had a child out there who wasn’t in our home.”

He nodded, took a long drink of his whiskey, and set the glass down on the wooden bar. He turned to me and met my gaze. His blue eyes were stern. “I think you’re a good man, from what I can tell by only talking to you for a couple hours. I do think you mean well.”

“I do. I love her, and I already love this baby.”

“I want you to succeed. I want Daphne to be happy.”

“That’s what I want as well.”

“Then there’s something about Daphne that you need to know.”