by Layne, Ivy
He ignored his own advice and watched with the doctor was doing. I wanted to watch. I also didn’t want to lose my lunch, so I kept my eyes on Griffen.
“I won’t look, but how big is it?”
He sounded a little sick as he said, “I’ll tell you later.”
I swallowed hard. Maybe I didn’t want to know.
I didn’t feel much of anything as the doctor cleaned the wound. A cold liquid on my skin, like she was rinsing it, and then more tugging. Griffen kept his eyes on me, holding my hand and stroking my hair back from my forehead. I tried to breathe, to relax, to think about anything except for the hole in my arm. And that I’d told Griffen I might be pregnant and he hadn’t said anything.
A nurse came into the room just as the doctor was lifting her head to place tools in a tray beside her. Ignoring me, the actual patient, the nurse passed the doctor a sheet of paper and took over with the instruments.
“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer, congratulations. That was a good guess. You’re pregnant.”
“Is the baby okay? How would we know? Can you do an exam or an ultrasound or something?” My heart raced. It was one thing when the baby was theoretical. I’d been able to separate the possibility of a baby from the accident and all that blood. The piece of tree in my arm.
But now, knowing our barely-there baby had been through that car accident with us, tossed around as I bled so much— “How do we know if he’s okay?”
“It could be a she,” the doctor said in a gentle tease. “I’m going to help you slide to the end of the bed and I’ll give you an exam. That’s the best I can do at this point. It’s a little early to see anything on an ultrasound. You need to make an appointment with your OB/GYN, and in a few weeks you can go and get your first baby pictures.”
With her and Griffen to help, I scooched to the end of the bed where the doctor unfolded cleverly-hidden stirrups. “I don’t care if it’s a girl or a boy as long as the baby’s okay,” I said. Griffen silently squeezed my hand in what I hoped was agreement.
The doctor flicked her gaze up to him. “Are you comfortable having this exam with your husband present?”
“If he wants to stay,” I said, my cheeks burning at the idea of Griffen watching me get a pelvic exam. Never mind that if I really was pregnant that was probably the least of what he’d see. Still, I wasn’t there yet.
“I’m staying,” Griffen said, his voice low.
I tried to pretend I didn’t have my knees hiked to my chin with the doctor leaning between them. She put on a fresh pair of gloves, took the equipment the nurse handed her, and said, “You’ll feel a touch now and some pressure.” That was an understatement. I never really thought about how big a speculum was but… ouch.
“Try to relax,” she murmured, shoving the speculum in deeper. I don’t remember a pelvic ever hurting before.
Griffen squeezed my hand again, drawing my attention. He stroked his fingers down my cheek, rubbing gently. “Relax, Hope. Every muscle in your body is locked tight. Take a deep breath and relax.”
He was right. I was holding my breath, utterly terrified, tensed against the bad news I was afraid was coming. I let out the breath I’d been holding and drew in another, this one long and slow. Gradually, breath by breath, I relaxed my body, the exercise mostly taking my mind off the doctor poking at my cervix.
Okay, not mostly. It took my attention a tiny bit off the doctor. I was still more terrified than relaxed.
Finally, she straightened. “Everything looks good. I don’t see any signs of bleeding, and your cervix looks great. I can’t make any promises, considering you just came through a car accident, but I don’t see any cause for concern. I’d call your OB tomorrow and have them schedule you for your first appointment in the next few weeks. We’ll get your discharge papers together and then you can head home.”
I said a weak thank you and slid into cruise control as we waited to go over discharge instructions and final paperwork. Griffen held my hand through it all, but he said almost nothing.
Was he angry? He must be. He’d said he didn’t want to have a baby with me.
Now he was stuck.
Forever.
With me, the wife he hadn’t wanted.
Chapter Forty-Two
Griffen
I called Royal while Hope was working on her discharge paperwork. “I need a favor,” I said, trying to focus on our immediate needs. My head was too crowded by the sight of Hope covered in blood, her scared eyes.
She was pregnant. I couldn’t begin to get my head around that.
When I found whoever had pulled that trigger, I was going to kill him.
“Sure,” Royal said easily, “What’s up?”
“Hope and I are at the hospital. Someone shot out our tire and my car flipped. We’re okay, but we need a ride home.”
“You’re okay? You and Hope? What the fuck, Griffen?”
“We’re fine. Hope had to get stitches, but that’s it.”
“I’m on my way. I’m at the Inn, so I won’t be long.”
“Thanks. Meet us at the Emergency entrance. We should be out soon.”
I called Hawk as soon as we hung up. He swore a blue streak, then said he’d meet me at the house as soon as I got Hope settled. I listened to Hope and the nurse with half an ear, frantically thinking through our options.
It was one thing for someone to try to kill me. I wasn’t a fan, but I could handle it. Putting Hope in danger was a different story. She hadn’t signed on for this. I could keep her safe if we never left the house, but what kind of life was that?
“Are you ready?” Hope’s question interrupted my racing thoughts, her face tight with pain but her eyes calm.
I looked into those warm cognac eyes and everything inside me settled.
I knew what I had to do.
Hope wasn’t going to like it, but that didn’t matter. Not anymore.
“I’m ready,” I answered, resolved to follow through, no matter what.
Royal was pulling up to the Emergency entrance of the hospital as we were wheeled out. Hope let me help her out of the wheelchair and into the backseat. I slid in beside her.
None of us talked much on the ride back. Hope was exhausted, the pain and shock finally catching up to her. Once we were on our way Royal asked, “Did you talk to Hawk? Does he have a plan?”
“We’re working on it,” I evaded. It wasn’t just Hope who wouldn’t like my plan. I couldn’t have cared less.
No, that wasn’t true. I cared. I didn’t like it either. But, sometimes, life throws you into trouble and shows you what really matters. I’d faced that moment once before when my father had kicked me out. I thought I’d needed to be a Sawyer. Instead, I’d learned I had everything I needed as Griffen.
I knew, with crystalline clarity, that this was another of those moments. I wouldn’t make the wrong choice, no matter how hard the right choice might be.
Royal dropped us at the front door. Hawk was waiting. “Give us a few minutes,” I said, my arm around Hope. “Can you check with West to see if they found anything on the shooter?”
He nodded and pulled out his phone. I ushered Hope up the stairs before she could ask any questions. Once we had the door shut firmly behind us, I laid it out.
“I know your arm must hurt like hell, but tell me what you need to bring and I’ll do all the work.” I strode for the closet, muttering to myself, “I can have Savannah send anything we leave behind.”
“What are you talking about? Bring where?”
“Bring with us,” I said, impatiently dragging my suitcase from the back of the closet.
“Bring with us where? Where are we going?”
Had she hit her head in the accident? “To Atlanta. The Sinclair safe house to start. If West can’t catch this guy, then maybe we’ll stay there.”
“What?” Hope stood in the
closet door, staring at me blankly, swaying a little. Fuck. She needed to sit down.
“Never mind, I can figure out what to pack.” I took her hand and pulled her to the couch, nudging her to sit. She did but stared up at me in bewildered confusion.
“We can’t go to Atlanta, Griffen. We have to stay at Heartstone. The will—”
“I don’t give a fuck about the will,” I said. “I can’t keep you safe here. We’re leaving.”
“We can’t leave. We only get fourteen days away a quarter and we might need them for something else.”
“We’re not leaving for fourteen days, we’re leaving and we’re not coming back until I know it’s safe,” I said, feeling time ticking away. I had to get us packed. We needed to get moving.
“Griffen, we can’t. If we’re gone too long, you’ll lose everything. The whole point of this is to keep your inheritance. To protect the town. If we leave it was all a waste.”
I froze in place, not sure I’d understood her words. “A waste? What the hell are you talking about? What do you think we’ve been doing here?”
Hope took a slow breath before she said flatly, “I think that less than a month ago we walked into Harvey’s office as strangers and we walked out married. I think that we have four years and eleven months until we’re not married anymore. I think I’m not going to be the reason you lose your legacy. I think if we leave, there won’t be anything to come back to. That’s what I think.”
I sank down on one of the chairs opposite the couch, propping my elbows on my knees and resting my forehead in my palms.
“I really suck at this,” I muttered.
Here I was, happily falling for Hope, and she thought I was looking for the end of the line.
How could she not know I was completely in love with her?
Hope was the only thing that mattered. Not the money or Sawyer Enterprises. Not this fucking house or my family. Not even the town.
I wouldn’t let the town sink for my own sake, but to keep Hope safe, I’d do anything.
I’d burn the whole fucking place to the ground if it would keep her out of danger.
I’d fucked around long enough, assuming I could protect her, assuming whoever was after us would give up. She could have been killed today. I wasn’t going to let that happen.
I stared at her, trying to think of what to say. If she didn’t already know, then words weren’t enough. I thought I’d been showing her how I felt, but obviously, I’d been fucking that up.
I could stand here and tell her I loved her all day, but the words wouldn’t make her believe it if my actions hadn’t gotten through.
I stared up at Hope’s warm eyes and I knew.
I knew what I could say. What I could do.
Every step of Hope’s life had been arranged by someone else, for their motives. Their interests. She was thirty-one years old, and I wondered if anyone in her life had ever asked her one simple question.
“What do you want?” I asked, holding her eyes with mine. “If you could have anything in the world for yourself, what would you want? What’s your dream?”
She stared at me, mute, and I read the fear in her eyes. If she couldn’t trust me even this much, I really had fucked everything up.
I stood and crossed to her, kneeling in front of where she sat on the couch, taking her hands in mine. “Trust me, Hope. Trust me enough to tell me your dream. The thing you want more than anything. Forget the will and this town and what people expect. Tell me what you want.”
Hope sucked in a breath, opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I squeezed her hands tighter. “I promise, Hope. You can trust me. With your dreams, with your heart. Please.”
A tear spilled over her cheek. “Don’t you get it? It’s the same thing. My dreams and my heart are the same thing. And I—” Her voice cracked and she broke off. It was enough. The little she’d said was enough.
“I love you, Hope. In one way or another, I’ve always loved you.”
More tears. Then her eyes fell and she whispered, “It’s the baby. You said you didn’t want the baby, but now—”
“It’s not the baby, Hope.” I released her hands and stood, facing away before turning back to her. All I could give her was the truth.
“I’ve been thinking about a family with you pretty much since we left Harvey’s office the first day. The only reason I said I didn’t want a baby was because of this exact situation. This was my nightmare, that you’d think I only want you because you’re pregnant. I didn’t want you to feel like a pawn. I wanted to wait so you’d know I wanted you. Just you. Not as a package deal or a way to save my inheritance. How can I prove that it has nothing to do with the will and everything to do with you?”
Hope stared up at me in mute wonder. Of all the things she’d been thinking, that I was in love with her clearly had not been on the list. Hope. Usually so observant, but she had a huge blind spot when it came to her own self-worth. I was going to spend a lifetime teaching her exactly how amazing she was.
“I can’t prove that I love you,” I said. “You have to believe. Tell me what you want. If there’s any chance I can give it to you, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make your dreams come true.”
“Anything?” she asked, tilting her head to the side as if considering. Didn’t she know? Surely, over all these years, she’d stored up a dream or two.
“Anything, Hope. Whatever it is, I’ll find a way to give it to you. It’s about time you got what you want for a change.”
“And if I want to leave you? To be on my own for the first time? What then?”
Chapter Forty-Three
Griffen
Her words stabbed straight through my heart. I knew that was a risk when I’d asked. She’d spent her whole life being organized by other people. Maybe her wildest dream was just to be on her own.
I tipped my face to the ceiling, searching the plaster for an answer. None came. I went for blunt honesty.
“I know this is the part where I’m supposed to say ‘Yes, even that’. I can’t. I can’t say those words. Don’t ask me to.” I swallowed past the knot in my throat. “But I’d do anything to make you happy. Anything. So...” I shrugged. “I think it might kill me to watch you leave. But if that’s your dream....” I swallowed again, my throat so dry it clicked.
Hope tilted her head to the side, the corner of her mouth tipping up as she watched me squirm. “You’re my dream, you idiot. I can’t believe you even had to ask.”
Pure relief washed through me. I’d hoped, but I didn’t know. “I thought, for once, someone should ask. I don’t want you with me out of obligation. Because you think you need to save the town or protect my inheritance. I want you with me because you love me. Because you believe I love you. Edgar said I have a target on my back until you got pregnant, but you being pregnant moves the target to you. I thought if we waited until the five years were over we’d be safe. But life isn’t safe and I want you. I want our baby. Tell me what you want me to pack so I can get you to Atlanta and we’ll figure out the rest after that.”
Hope looked at me, her eyes spilling fresh tears and glowing with love. I wasn’t ready for what came out of her mouth.
“No. We’re not going anywhere.”
“Hope, I don’t want to argue about this.”
“Neither do I. My arm hurts. I’m tired. I’m hungry. I love you and I just want to curl up on the couch together. Or in bed. I don’t care where, but this is a stupid plan.”
“Hope, we can’t stay here. What if you’d been shot yesterday? You could have died today.”
“If we leave, your cousin Bryce gets everything. Am I the only one who remembers that?”
“I don’t care,” I ground out. “I don’t care about the will and I don’t care about Bryce. Let him have it. I care about you and our child.”
Hope
gave me a flat stare. She stood slowly, wiping tears from her face with the back of her hand before she crossed the room and started to make a cup of tea.
Wasn’t she listening? We didn’t have time for tea. We needed to get on the road. We needed to leave. We needed—
“I care about your legacy,” Hope said. “And I’m not going to be the reason that you lose everything.”
“As long as I have you, I’m not losing anything,” I said.
She turned and gave me a patient, mild look. The look I imagined she’d give a toddler who wasn’t listening. “You’d lose your family, Griffen. They’re your real legacy. Not Sawyer Enterprises. Your family. You can’t leave them now. We finally have everyone back under one roof. Together. Sterling is drinking less. Royal wants to work with you. You talked to Ford. We’re not leaving.”
“Hope, this isn’t the time to get stubborn. Don’t you understand? Your life is on the line.”
“Griffen, you are one of the smartest men I know, but you’re not thinking clearly. Understandable, considering we almost got killed, your car is totaled, and you just found out you’re going to be a father. But you need to think. Your father was murdered. Unless you believe Bryce did it because he knew the details of the will, then the will doesn’t have anything to do with this.
“We can leave, but you’re still Griffen Sawyer. In Sawyers Bend, Atlanta, Fiji. You’re still Griffen Sawyer, and I’m still your wife, and this is still your baby. I don’t think this is about the will at all. I think this is someone who has a grudge against the Sawyer family. We’re safest together.”
I sank back into the chair and stared at Hope as she calmly stirred honey into her tea and sipped. Goddamnit. We’d talked about this the day before, but I’d still been thinking about it from the wrong angle. The will, the company, Bryce—all of it pointed me into seeing money as a motive.
Hope was right. If money had been the motive in my father’s murder, then who stood to gain? Me. Possibly Bryce, assuming he knew about the will when no one else had.
If this wasn’t about money, if it was about a grudge against the Sawyers, then Hope was right. We could run, but if someone had it out for us they’d follow. My father was dead. Ford was in prison. Was someone trying to knock us off one by one? Was Royal next?
