Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Slow, I reminded myself as I pulled into the car park at the hospital in Inverness. Everything else was going so fast, I had to resist the urge to pick up the pace on the rest.
The last few weeks had been rough for my Callie, and I wanted her to feel safe with me. When I’d heard what Mrs. Rankin (a woman I barely even remembered but who seemed to think she was some kind of mouthpiece for the village) said at the bakery, I’d wanted to rail at her. Her viciousness did catch and there were some others who turned their noses up at Callie if she entered their establishment or passed them on the street.
They were saying she’d trapped me and that’s why I’d come home.
Fucking misogynists.
I couldn’t stand for that. Our family and friends had rallied. The Adairs had influence, and Mum had said loudly and clearly in Flora’s one day, “Well, Flora, if we thought Callie had ‘trapped’ Lewis, do you really think there would be such love and friendship between our families? We love Callie, and if I hear anyone say a bad word against her, they can expect a piece of my mind.”
It tempered some of the gossip. As did the fact that my family was attentive, and Callie couldn’t seem to go anywhere without one of them at her side. Mum, Eilidh when she visited a few weeks back, Aunt Arro, Robyn, Ery, and Monroe. Every single one of them made sure they were seen at Callie’s side.
Then an actor accused of breaking up the marriage of the director on her latest movie fled to Ardnoch and the paparazzi arrived in town. As per usual, they were shut down by its residents and being here was pointless for them, but it got everyone talking about something else. Things seemed to normalize for us, as much as they could.
Except Callie told me about her birth father’s lawyer calling and how her mum was dealing with it all. She couldn’t help but worry about the possibility of Nathan getting parole. The lawyer had tried calling again, but Sloane’s lawyer sent a cease and desist. We were waiting to see what happened next, and I hated her birth father for polluting this time for us.
As terrified as I was to be a dad, I got through it by focusing on the day-to-day. Big-picture thinking was still a bit overwhelming.
Once I’d parked and we paid the fee, I took Callie’s hand in mine, and we strolled toward the hospital entrance. Glancing down at her, I experienced a sense of rightness that calmed my nerves.
Sensing my stare, Callie looked up at me. “Are you okay?”
“Never better,” I promised her.
As we made our way through the hospital corridors to the antenatal clinic, a possessive thrill stirred in me. Some latent caveman part of my DNA was illogically proud Callie was mine, and I’d shown it to the world by getting her pregnant. Fucking idiot. Lost in my amusing (and never to be shared with Callie) thoughts, I barely noticed an older woman coming toward us. But I definitely observed when she visibly startled at the sight of me and hunched in on herself, hurrying past us.
Callie glanced over her shoulder with a frown. “What the heck was that?”
“It happens,” I answered with a shrug that belied my true feelings.
See, it never occurred to me when I grew my hair out and got tattoos that a small contingency of the public would find me intimidating. I was taller than my dad, as tall as my uncles Lachlan and Brodan. They’d never complained of that kind of reaction, especially from women, but then they hadn’t grown out their hair, gotten a bunch of tattoos, or looked more suited to a motorcycle club than an architect’s firm.
I didn’t perceive it so much in London, but here in Inverness, I noticed some folks—men and women—crossing the street as I walked down it. Even in Ardnoch, a tourist or two had crossed the street to avoid walking past me. And while women, in general, didn’t seem to mind my appearance, there were a few, like the one we just passed, who were visibly intimidated.
That stung because I’d cut off my own fucking arm before I’d ever hurt a woman.
“Why?” Callie was pissed. “Because you’re tall and have tattoos?”
“Callie.” I squeezed her hand, not wanting to upset her, ever, but especially not while pregnant. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” she huffed. “I’m so sick of people and their judgmental nonsense.”
I tightened my grip, gently pulling her into me as I lowered my voice. “You don’t know why she reacted that way.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe something happened to make her afraid. If so, I feel bad for her, not angry.”
Callie halted in the middle of the corridor. The morning sickness seemed to be over, and Callie had some energy back. Her skin glowed healthily, and there were no dark circles under her eyes. She was beautiful either way, but right now she was so stunning, my self-control was on a tightrope. “You are the sweetest man I’ve ever known.”