"Yeah, I bet you can. But I'm just a mere mortal a wimp who gets dizzy when I have to have blood drawn."

"I don't like having that done either. Pa.s.sed out once, but that stays strictly between us."

She smiled.

Waves crashed around them, the noise filling the s.p.a.ce between them. It was peaceful at first, but the longer they went without talking, the more he felt the weight of their circ.u.mstances bearing down on him. They'd eaten dinner together almost every night lately usually take-out and he'd seen the worry in her eyes and heard it in her voice.

She seemed a little more relaxed on the beach, which was why he'd brought her here, but when the conversation lulled, she got a faraway look in her eyes that told him she was getting lost inside her own head.

"How are you feeling lately?" He tested the waters, preparing to broach a subject he'd been wondering about for almost a week now.

"Fine." She turned her gaze on him. "A little anxious, but fine. I know I've been a drag this week"

"Don't. I'm not criticizing you, and you haven't been a drag. I just want to know where we're at. Don't feel like you can't talk to me about it."

Eventually, she nodded.

"I can almost see the weight on your shoulders," he added, letting his gaze drift to the white curves peeking out from her sleeveless top. "That makes me feel like I'm cheating you, somehow. We're in this together, however it turns out."

"I don't feel like you're cheating me. Not at all."

A wave rushed high onto the sand, touching their feet. Neither of them flinched the water was almost as warm as the sunshine.

"I need to know something, Belle."

"What?" She met his eyes again, her gaze searching.

"I know you're worried. So am I. What happened was an accident, but I feel like I f.u.c.ked up."

She started to say something, but he shook his head.

"I'm not suggesting that you should welcome the idea of getting pregnant," he continued, "but I'd like to know whether it's the idea of an accidental pregnancy in general that has you so worried, or the idea of one with me specifically."

"What do you mean?" Her eyes widened a little, then narrowed.

"We've only been dating a few weeks. The idea of having a baby is crazy. But is it more than that do you think I'd be a bad father, no matter how long we'd been together?"

Her lips cracked, and she stared at him for several long seconds. He realized they'd stopped walking and were standing still, though he couldn't have said when they'd paused, exactly.

CHAPTER 20.

"No," Belle said. "Why would you think that?"

"You've known me since we were kids, Belle. You know what kind of family I come from. I can't help but think that a smart woman like you might worry that I wouldn't know how to be a good parent."

She frowned. Next thing he knew, she was touching his hand, wriggling her fingers between his.

"That never even crossed my mind. Have you really been worrying about that?"

"Yeah." He held her gaze, pushing away the sense of embarra.s.sment that was trying to creep up on him. She looked at him as if it'd been a ridiculous fear, but it wasn't. Family was important, and he didn't have any.

He hung out with Elijah and his family sometimes Sunday dinners, and stuff like that. When he watched them all together, he saw what he'd missed out on. Now, he realized what Belle would be missing out on too if they had a child together.

No visits to grandma and grandpa. No doting aunts and uncles. No Sunday dinners or big family get-togethers at the beach. At least, not on his side of the family.

Belle came from the kind of family that had those things, and it'd be perfectly logical for her to question whether she'd want to have a family with someone who didn't have all that.

Not to mention the fact that he'd be fathering from scratch, ignoring the s.h.i.t examples of parenting he'd grown up with and constantly striving to be completely different better.

It'd occurred to him that if it turned out she wasn't pregnant, she might rethink her relationship with him. If she wanted a family someday, what would be the point of getting serious with someone she didn't consider fit to have a family with?

"I think you'd be a great father, Jackson." She narrowed her eyes when he didn't reply. "I mean it. I just wouldn't want you to be shackled to me for life because a condom broke, okay? That's not exactly a stable foundation for a happy or lasting relationship."

"It'd be hard, but I'd give it my best shot. I'd never abandon you or our child, Belle."

She squeezed his fingers. "I believe you; I just don't want you to have to go through that. If I have a family with someone, I want it to be on purpose. I want our relationship to be a sure thing."

He exhaled and finally let himself feel relief. He heard a lot of lies in his line of work, but she seemed honest. "Same here."

She smiled. "Maybe this will turn out to be nothing. Maybe not. Either way, whether or not you'd be a good parent isn't what I'm worried about. Promise."

He saw honesty in her eyes. Heard it in her voice. Relief really hit him now, like a breaker. "That's all I wanted to know."

"You're bigger than your past, Jackson. And a lot better. Your parents' actions were out of your control. If anything, you're the polar opposite of them."

In all the ways he'd been tested so far, it was true. They'd been in and out of jail like a revolving door; he put people there. His record was spotless, and he'd never touched a drug he'd been too repulsed by seeing what they'd done to his parents to want to try them.

Disgusting him so thoroughly was the only good thing they'd done for him. They'd been real-life examples of how addiction could ruin lives.

He was determined to be utterly unlike them in every respect, and that would include parenting if he ever had a family.

"Thank you," he said, meaning it. Her words might've sounded trite coming from anyone else, but they meant something, coming from her.

She tipped her head and shrugged, as if it was nothing. "You were never anything like them. Actually, you were never anything like anyone else I've ever known."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was meant as one." She flashed him a broad smile. "You know what you said the other day, about you preferring that something like this happen with me, if it has to happen with anyone at all?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I feel the same way about you. I'd much rather face this with you than anyone else I've ever been with. You have no idea."

Her brow crinkled, and she let out a little huff that turned into a nervous laugh.

"Judging by your expression, that's not much of a compliment."

"No, it's not sorry."

"Did some other guy hurt you? Because I have the training and resources to kill him and make it look like an accident."

She laughed.

He didn't. He teased, but when he thought of someone hurting Belle like Sanders had hurt his wife or his own father had hurt him and his mother, he felt suddenly serious.

"No one's ever raised a hand against me. I dated a real loser back in Atlanta, that's all."

He asked her what had happened, and she told him a story about some douchebag in a suit asking her to marry him and then blowing her and the engagement off when she found out he'd been cheating on her the entire time.

By the time she was done explaining, he felt as if he'd been hit with a two by four. As a cop, he heard crazy stories every day. Still, the idea of someone having Belle and taking her for granted treating her as if she were stupid and worthless was beyond him.

"What a f.u.c.king moron," he said.

She met his gaze, her expression serious. "I know."

"I'd tell you I'm sorry that happened, but I think I'm just glad you're out of that relationship."

"Believe me, I'm sorry I ever spoke a word to him. As I'm sure you can imagine, the break-up was humiliating. I wasn't planning to bring it up anytime soon, but you've been so honest with me today..." She shrugged. "Turn around is fair play."

He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, ma.s.saging the smooth skin over her knuckles. "You know, I'm feeling a lot less c.o.c.ky about you telling me I'm the best you've ever had."

She smiled. "If it helps to know, you're the best by a landslide. There's no comparison."

"I hope not."

She exhaled and shrugged, as if she'd just shed a heavy weight. "It feels good to have my embarra.s.sing little secret out of the way."

Whatever pleasure she was experiencing, it couldn't compare to how good it felt to know that she'd been stressing because of the situation and not because she thought there was something wrong with him.

As long as she had that kind of trust in him, they'd be able to face whatever the future brought even if she was pregnant.

"Come on. My mom's been asking about you."

Jackson met Elijah's gaze. "Why don't you go on your own? I feel like a black sheep when your mom makes you drag me along to family functions out of pity."

"You mean a white sheep," Elijah said, grinning without missing a beat. "Come on. It's not pity; my parents like you. And you know you love my mom's cooking. If you stay here and wallow in misguided pride, don't expect me to bring a plate home for you."

In a moment of weakness, Jackson let his gaze dart toward the fridge. There was some deli meat and a couple yogurts inside. Maybe a few beers. They'd already gone through most of the groceries he'd bought on his last shopping trip.

"Get your shoes on," Elijah said, and walked out of the kitchen, where Jackson was sitting at the table.

Jackson considered his other dinner options. He could make himself a sandwich, or he could go out and grab something on his own. Belle was out to a movie with Mariah, so it wasn't as if he could whisk her away for dinner.

Elijah was right: he was being prideful. And his mom really was a great cook.

"Knew you weren't as dumb as you look," Elijah said when he returned to the kitchen and found Jackson tying his shoes. "Let's go traffic sucks a.s.s this time of day, and we'll be late if we take any longer."

And that was how he wound up riding shotgun in Elijah's Accord, on his way to the Bennetts' place in Charleston for a family dinner where he'd be the only one who wasn't family.

The house was a nice four bedroom, and though it was more room than Elijah's empty-nester parents took up on their own, quarters were close when their four children and other family visited.

Or maybe it just felt that way to Jackson, who was used to sharing an apartment with just one person. Even growing up, he hadn't had any siblings. He'd been an only child an afterthought in a family of begrudging adults.

When they all sat down at the long dining table, Elijah's mom, Lorraine, had as many questions about Jackson's wellbeing as she did her own son's.

He and Elijah more or less had the same answers about how things were going at work and at home. He lied and told her work was going fine. The tougher realities of the job like spousal abuse weren't the sort of thing you brought up at the dinner table.

As usual, Lorraine did most of the talking while her husband ate. If any couple was proof that opposites attracted, it was them. Lorraine was pet.i.te, white, blonde and grey-eyed, with a composed sweetness that Jackson figured was what people meant when they used the term "Southern belle." As far as he knew, she'd always been a homemaker and a mother.

Elijah's father, on the other hand, was six and a half feet tall, black and muscular with dark hair, skin and eyes, a retired detective who'd given the Charleston Police Department thirty years of service. Reserved and serious, he listened more than he spoke, but radiated too much authority to be mistaken for pa.s.sive.

"You ever get that plumbing in your kitchen fixed?" he asked halfway through dinner, shooting a gaze at Elijah.

Jackson had all but forgotten about the issue they'd had with the kitchen sink a month ago.

"Landlord called a plumber in. He took care of it in about twenty minutes," Elijah said, and that was as serious as his conversation with his father got at the table.

After dinner, Jackson got roped into conversation with Elijah's Aunt Kelly. Physically, she looked a lot like her sister Lorraine: blonde, light-eyed and thin, although much taller. In her high heels, she stood several inches taller than Jackson's 5'10". She used her height advantage to corner him between the table and china cabinet.

"So tell me what you've been up to, Officer Cutie." She smiled down at Jackson and winked.

Personality-wise, she was nothing like her sister.

Jackson wasn't sure whether she flirted with him just for the entertainment of watching him squirm, or whether she regularly talked to men that way. Without any other non-family members around, there was no way to know. He was the only available victim at a Bennett family dinner, and this wasn't the first time she'd taken advantage of that fact.

He cast his gaze around, trying to make eye contact with someone anyone who might rescue him by b.u.t.ting into the conversation.

No luck.

"Come on," she pressed. "You must have some interesting work stories. Don't be shy."

She was old enough to be his mother, and on top of that, she was Elijah's aunt Jackson had little choice but to be polite.

He gave her an abbreviated version of his crazy cat lady story. He knew from experience that if he told her a story or two, he'd probably be able to find an opportunity to slip out of the conversation without offending her.

She tsked and shook her head. "Some people don't know how to behave. If I called for help and you came all the way to my house in uniform, I'd be appreciative. Of course, I live here in Charleston, so my place is out of your jurisdiction. Unfortunately."

He forced a smile onto his face. "Yeah, unfortunately it is."