36. Logan

36

LOGAN

"You don't have to do this," I say once I've shifted gears into park. We're seated in my pickup truck, parked in the lot of the town hospital. "I told you I don't care what the DNA results say. We're a family. The baby's mine."

"I… I…" she lets out a shaky breath. "I feel like I need to know."

I take her hand, linking our fingers. "I wish you would've told me. You would've come straight to me about the pregnancy."

Teysha's frown fractures my heart… or whatever it is beating inside my chest. I'd never imagined a scenario where I could look at a woman and feel her emotion as my own. Any woman I was ever involved with had never affected me like this. I hadn't allowed myself to be close enough to develop real feelings. Flings and one night stands made up the bulk of my experiences with the opposite sex.

But one sad look from Teysha and I can feel the urgency doubling my heartbeat. I stroke my thumb along the small ridges of her knuckles and wish I could take every lick of pain away. Since it's impossible, I settle on the next best thing.

Reassurance.

"I'm not mad at you. I don't blame you," I go on. "None of it was your fault, and you're doing the best you can. I get that. No matter what, we'll figure it out, alright?"

She inhales a deep breath, then nods, clinging to my hand like it's a lifeline. We walk toward the hospital in sync with each other, a true united front.

"Teysha? Logan?"

We turn at the sound of our names to find Korine and her mother, Sunny. Both women seem to be lacking on rest judging by their fatigued energy.

It's no surprise—Sunny's seriously ill, and Korine has barely left the hospital since Cash was shot. Teysha being the nurturer she is, rushes toward both women for quick hugs.

"What are you two doing here?" Korine asks. "Are you going to visit Cash?"

I glance at Teysha, who gives me a small smile, then answers for me. "We're here for some test results. But we would love to visit him too. Is he still in the same room?"

We end up on a detour, riding the elevator to the fifth floor where Cash's room is located. Mace and Sydney are already there, in the middle of chatting with Cash.

All things considered, Cash looks better than he has in days. The color's returned to his complexion and so has the twinkle to his gaze. Only he could be laid up in the hospital and still look like a fucking GQ model with his shoulder-length golden brown hair framing his face.

I break off with him and Mace while the ladies hover on the other end of the room to mingle.

"Feeling better?" I ask, nudging Cash's blanket-clad foot.

"As good as one can feel when they're shot a centimeter away from their heart," Cash answers. He gestures to Mace on the other side of his hospital bed. "Mace was telling me all about the finale with the Saints."

"You missed out," I say. "Lots of bullets in skulls."

"Probably good I wasn't there. You know." Cash holds a hand to the large bandage taped onto his pectoral.

"We made due without you," Mace says.

"I do hate that I didn't get to see that piece of shit Abraham go down."

I tuck my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. "My only regret is that he didn't bleed out more."

"How're things between you and Teysha?" Cash asks.

Glancing over my shoulder at her, a funny feeling lights me up on the inside. She's currently laughing alongside the others at something Sunny's said.

So damn beautiful and precious even under the hospital's fluorescent lighting. She might as well be a fucking angel.

"Good," I answer slowly, almost in a trance. "Real good."

"Mind if I speak to you outside for a second?" Mace doesn't wait for me to agree before he starts for the hospital room door.

We head halfway down the hall so to stay out of earshot from the others. Mace turns to face me with an expression that's stuck between curiosity and concern. The urge to remind him who's the older brother of the two of us strikes me. He speaks first.

"How're you really?"

"What?"

"You good? A lot's been going on."

I crack out a rare laugh. "You worried about me?"

"Both of you," Mace clarifies. "Syd told me Teysha told her she was leaving town again…"

"She's staying. We're together. We're… we're working things out."

Mace brings his hand up to his scalp, scratching his head as if it'll help him think. "Look, I'm not sure if she told you. But she told Sydney. She's pregnant."

Suddenly, I get where Mace's concern's coming from. He's been around for the past two months and witnessed how we've struggled. We've had plenty of ups and downs wading through dark, uncertain waters.

He wants to make sure we're thinking straight.

"I know," I answer, then I let my mouth cant up in a slight grin. "I'm gonna be a father."

For a second, Mace is thrown. He's clearly more surprised by my excitement than he is by the revelation. It unfolds on his face and through his body language as his eyes widen and his hands come to rest on his waist.

"You're in love with her," he says. "It's a real marriage."

"It was always a real marriage," I answer, clapping my hand to his shoulder. "I was just slow on the uptake."

"It's good for you. Both of you. That you're working things out."

We return to the hospital room where the others are discussing Cash's release and Mason and Sydney's upcoming wedding. I grab Teysha by the hand, and we give our goodbyes on our way out.

"You still alright to know?" I ask as we board the elevator. "Say the word, and we're leaving."

"I'm alright. You're with me."

She smiles sweetly, squeezing my hand that's engulfing hers. Approaching the front desk for the hospital lab feels surreal. A life-defining moment that neither of us can predict the outcome of.

Teysha explains that while I was admitted to the hospital, the staff collected blood samples and swabs, which the lab has used for the test. Vaguely, I remember being told by the nurse as she stuck the needle in my veins, but I had been in pain and was distracted by everything else going on, I'd hardly put two and two together.

The technician at the front desk beams up at us as we approach.

"Teysha Baxter," she says, her finger scrolling on her computer mouse. "Ah, yes. I see you right here. I'll print your results."

We stand by listening to the jerky crank of the printer as it stamps ink all across the page. The technician scoops up the sheet of paper and skims what it says to make sure it has the correct information before handing it over.

Teysha takes the sheet with shaking hands. Then she gasps and almost passes out. I know because she bumps into my side, trembling from head to toe. I tighten my arm around her and glance down at the paper.

"It's a match," she warbles out. "I-it's a match?"

The technician gives her a sympathetic smile. "Yes, that's right. The fetal DNA is in your blood, and we were able to match the DNA profile for the unborn child using Mr. Cutler's sample. You're about six, almost seven, weeks along."

"But I'm showing?" Teysha's hand falls to her stomach like so many pregnant women tend to do, trying to trace the curve of her belly.

"That little pooch?" The technician churns out a laugh. "That's smaller than the food bloat I get. "

"But… but if I'm only six weeks along, then that really does mean…" Her watery eyes light up meeting mine. She bursts into happy tears and laughter. "Logan, it really is yours! The baby's yours!"

Before I know it, I'm laughing too. I'm catching her as she throws herself in my arms, and I give her a joyful spin around in a circle. Setting her on her feet, my arms remain swathed over her hips, holding her only inches away.

We're lovestruck fools grinning ear to ear at each other like we've just been told we've won the lottery. For a married couple beginning the rest of our lives, it's one and the same.

And I couldn't be more fucking excited.

"How about we go out tonight?" I ask. "On a date to celebrate."

"A date?" she squeaks before her pretty smile widens. "I would love to."