Chapter 6 - Max

I find Emma in her aunt's garden, surrounded by roses and looking like she might shatter at any moment. My chest tightens at the sight of her wiping tears away.

"Hey," I say softly, closing the distance between us. "Want to get out of here?"

She turns to face me, mascara smudged under her eyes.

"What about lunch?"

"Screw lunch." I step closer, cupping her face in my hands. "Your aunt's comments were out of line, and you look like you're about to throw up that toast from earlier."

A weak laugh escapes her. "That obvious, huh?"

I brush a tear from her cheek with my thumb. My hands are steady now, even though my insides still feel like a five-alarm fire.

Because this? This I'm sure about.

"Listen to me," I say, making sure she meets my eyes. "I'm terrified about being a father. I have no idea what I'm doing. But I know three things for certain."

She sniffles. "What things?"

"One: I love you. Have since that Christmas Festival, and that's not changing." I take a deep breath. "Two: This baby? Our baby? That's not a mistake. It's unexpected, sure, but not unwanted."

Her hands come up to grip my wrists. "And three?"

"Three: You're beautiful. Right now, when you're showing, after the baby comes – always. And anyone who says different can fight me."

A real laugh this time. "You'd fight my aunt?"

"I'd fight anyone for you." I glance back at the house. "Now, can we please get out of here? I'd rather spend the day figuring out our future than listening to more backhanded comments about your perfect body."

Emma wraps her arms around my waist, though they barely meet behind my back. Her face presses against my chest, and I can feel her tears dampening my suit.

"In a few months," she mumbles against the fabric, "I won't even be able to reach around you."

I chuckle, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Then I'll just have to sneak up behind you and wrap my arms around that beautiful belly instead."

She pulls back enough to look up at me, eyes still wet.

"How are you so calm about this? You just found out minutes ago, and you're already making plans?"

"You know my story," I say, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "Grew up fighting for every scrap of food in the orphanage. Fought my way through ranger training. Fought in Afghanistan." I pause, letting the words sink in. "Never backed down from a fight, and I'm not starting now. Not when I finally have a shot at something I've wanted my whole life."

Her fingers clutch my shirt. "What's that?"

"A family." I rest my forehead against hers. "My family. With the woman who somehow makes me forget every bad thing that's ever happened to me just by smiling."

"You're crazy," she whispers, but there's a hint of a smile playing at her lips.

"Crazy about you." I glance back at the house, where I can see Aunt Linda's shadow hovering near the window. "Now, what do you say we make our excuses and get out of here? I'm thinking Sara's has chocolate milkshakes with your name on them."

"Are you trying to fatten me up before the baby does?" She pokes my chest, a hint of her usual sass returning.

I catch her hand, pressing it against my heart.

"Sweetheart, you could gain a hundred pounds, and I'd still think you're the sexiest woman alive."

"Stop it." She rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. "I never thought... I mean, most guys run when they realize I won't put up with their games. That I'm not the type to giggle at their bad pickup lines or pretend to be impressed by their macho act."

I can't help but grin.

"You mean, like when I tried to impress you with my firefighter stories and you just crossed your arms and said, 'Cute, but I've heard better from my first graders'?"

"Or when you winked at me across the station, and I told you to either ask me out properly or stop wasting my time?"

"That," I say, pulling her closer, "was the moment I knew you were different. Every time I tried to play it cool, you called me out. Made me face what I was feeling."

She looks up at me, sunlight catching in her blonde curls. "We weren't supposed to be this real, you know. We were just having fun, and today was just meant to be pretend for my family."

"Yeah, well," I glance at her still-flat stomach, "somewhere between your sass and my showing off, the lines got pretty damn blurry."

"And you are okay with that?"

"More than okay." I kiss her forehead. "I was falling in love with you way before today, you know?"

A laugh bubbles up from my chest. "Remember our first date?"

"Of course." Max grins. "Club Risotto. We both ordered something we couldn't pronounce. What was it you got? That fancy pasta thing?"

"Tagliolini al tartufo nero," I say, attempting the accent. "And you got that weird fish."

"Branzino," he nods. "Then we ended up swapping plates because we liked each other's better."

I lean against him. "That's not the part I remember most. I remember you taking me for a drive after, being all mysterious and quiet. One-word answers only."

"I was nervous!" He runs a hand through his hair. "You were this gorgeous blonde teacher who actually agreed to go out with me. I was terrified of saying something stupid."

"Didn't stop us from ending up at your place," I feel my cheeks heat up. "My first and only first-date sleepover."

He smirks, that cocky firefighter confidence returning.

"What can I say? I have a unique charm."

"More like you're lucky you're handsome and know how to be a gentleman." I shake my head but can't help smiling.

The tension from earlier seems to melt away as we stand there, remembering that night. How one impromptu date turned into this – us, a baby, a future.

"Emma! Max!" Aunt Linda's voice shatters the moment. "Dessert's ready!"

I feel my shoulders tense again. Max must notice because his arm tightens around me.

"We don't have to go back in," he whispers.

But before I can answer, the back door creaks open.