Raph exhaled, long and slow. “I’m barely keeping up with the payments, Wy. And I’m at the highest pay grade for my level.”
For a regional manager, that was saying a lot. If Raph quit his job and found another in Meadowfall... Wyatt wasn’t sure they’d make enough between the both of them, and still afford to raise two children. His heart sank.
“Was that from Alpha Associates?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Grandma knows about it?”
“She signed the loan agreement.”
Wyatt closed his eyes, a vicious fury surging through his chest. She’d terrorized Wyatt since he was a child. That was fine.
But Raph had done nothing demeaning, aside from that afternoon with Wyatt in the piano room. Instead of helping her grandson soar, Grandma had shackled Raph with debt like she’d done with their parents. What kind of bitch was she?
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t murder her right now,” Wyatt growled. “She has a weak heart, doesn’t she?”
“I’d prefer to see you in my be—my home, Wy. Not behind bars.” Raph reached down, catching Wyatt’s hand. Wyatt squeezed back, his pulse beating in his fingertips. How did I get myself into this?
The drive-in made a few thousand a month, after he’d deducted the business expenses. But there was his apartment and utilities to pay for, and after all his expenses, it would take forever to make a dent in a hundred and fifty grand.
And Raph hadn’t even planned on mentioning the debt, had he?
Wyatt sagged into his seat. “You’re not forgiven yet.”
Raph looked down at his clenched fists. “I know. I mean... I understand if you don’t want me as your—”
“No, don’t say that,” Wyatt whispered, squeezing Raph’s hand. He couldn’t turn Raph away just because of that.
But Raph had lied, and that still prickled at Wyatt’s skin.
He leaned away from Raph, looking at the pastel mobiles hanging from the ceiling. Then he looked at his belly, wondering how he could bring his baby into this mess. I’m sorry, hon. This won’t be easy for all of us.
He was about to reach for Raph’s hand again when a door opened.
“Wyatt Fleming,” a nurse called.
He jumped, his heart kicking.
“Want me to follow?” Raph asked.
They probably shouldn’t be seen together. But Raph was the baby’s father, and despite his secret, Wyatt still trusted him most.
“Fine,” he said.
They followed the nurse through the doorway, pausing so she could take Wyatt’s blood pressure and weight. Then she led them to the next room, knocking on the door.
Like it had years ago, Dr. Smith’s office smelled like hay—she was a beta. Raph held the door open, and stepped in after Wyatt.
With graying blond hair and wrinkles around her eyes, Dr. Smith was old enough to have met a number of Meadowfall townsfolk—not in the least, their father. Nine years ago, Wyatt had asked her to keep silent about his visits, when Chief Fleming had started search attempts to track his son down.
Seemed like every time he met her, he was in some kind of trouble.
“Hello, Wyatt,” Dr. Smith said, extending her hand. Wyatt shook it. She glanced at Raph next, and recognition flickered in her eyes. Wyatt held his breath. The doctor didn’t speak to Raph. Instead, she smiled kindly at Wyatt. “How is Hazel?”
“She’s doing well, thank you. She’s nine now, and she loves coloring and cooking.”
“Cooking? That’s advanced for a nine-year-old.”
Wyatt suppressed his wince. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned that. Most nine-year-olds didn’t know how to cook. “I’ve been supervising her in the kitchen.”
“Hazel’s great,” Raph said. “Very intelligent. Wyatt’s taught her well.”
Dr. Smith held out her hand. “I believe you’re Raphael? I’ve seen you around in Meadowfall.”
So she knew they were brothers, then. Wyatt tried to keep smiling.
“How is Chief Fleming doing? I’ve seen a couple of his interviews on TV.”
“He’s doing great. I think he’s been busy at the station.” Wyatt took one of the seats by the doctor’s desk, avoiding Raph. Maybe Raph coming along was a bad idea. Maybe Raph should leave.
Raph settled into the next seat, tucking his thumbs in his pockets.
“That’s fantastic. Now, I’ll need you to tell me about your pregnancy.” Dr. Smith clicked through the tabs on her computer. “Do you remember when you conceived?”
Wyatt didn’t remember it offhand. He froze, wishing he’d written it down. “It was a weekend in May. Um. I know I’m at twenty weeks.”
“The second weekend,” Raph said.
Relief and despair twisted through Wyatt’s gut. Raph, shut up. “The Saturday of that week,” he said. “I didn’t.... think you remembered.”
Dr. Smith clicked on her calendar, then glanced between them.
Wyatt’s cheeks burned. Raph shrugged. “You told me some time back.”
And Wyatt realized that Raph was right. That if they acted as though they were ordinary brothers, maybe they’d leave with Smith none the wiser. He breathed in deep, then breathed out. Things will be okay.
Behind the desk, Raph caught Wyatt’s hand, holding on to him.
The next few questions went smoothly. Wyatt told the doctor about his diet, exercise, and work, and declined a refresher course on pregnancy.
“Very good,” Dr. Smith said. “We’ll save the bloodwork for last. Now, I’ll need you to lie on the exam bed, Wyatt. Would you prefer if Mr. Fleming stayed with you?”
They exchanged a glance. Raph’s expression was keen, hopeful, and Wyatt... didn’t have the heart to send him away. “Yes, I’d prefer if Raph could stay.”
Dr. Smith locked the door, settling at the computer next to the exam bed. As she tapped on the keyboard, Wyatt made himself comfortable, pulling his shirt up over his belly. Raph’s gaze roved over him, dark, appreciative. And Wyatt knew that, despite hiding the debt from him, Raph still cared.
Smith dimmed the lights, hooking her stethoscope to her ears. “I’ll be listening to the fetal heartbeat first.”
The end of the stethoscope pressed cool against Wyatt’s belly. He held his breath, hoping his own heartbeat didn’t betray him. The doctor set the stethoscope a little lower, and listened again.
“Heartbeat normal for Week
