bone-deep fear that you’d never be enough, just as you were.
She’d spent years working through the lingering pain of being a foster child, and she knew there were no easy answers. After she’d got her job with the bank, the benefits had allowed her to seek out counseling, and she’d willingly gone to a therapist, eager to talk through the self-doubt that had plagued her through much of her life.
Although she’d instinctively known the choice to abandon her was the fault of those nameless, faceless parents, working with someone had helped bring things into focus. Had helped her believe in herself and her dreams for her future.
So she marched on. And on the days when the doubt demons spoke too loudly, she practiced the techniques Dr. Johansen had given her to stay afloat.
“Yes, I’m having a baby. And yes, it’s yours.”
“Is it a boy or a girl?”
“I—” She broke off, surprise filling her at the simple question. “I don’t know. I haven’t wanted to know.”
His hazel eyes had gone nearly as gray as the wall of slate behind him. “I deserved to know, Lizzie.”
He did deserve to know. And while she’d had her reasons for waiting—namely his lifelong feelings on fatherhood—it didn’t change the fact that she’d cheated him of the knowledge he was going to be a parent.
“I didn’t want to burden you with this. I know how you feel about...about children.”
“So you thought I’d rather stay in the dark than accept my responsibilities?” His voice was quiet—too quiet—but the power of his words ricocheted around the room with all the force of gunshots.
Head high, she drew on every reserve she had. “I know how to accept my responsibilities. And I can take care of myself and my child.”
“Our child.”
Our child. Our.
She only nodded, the truth that had needled her since discovering her pregnancy blossoming into full-blown guilt. “Yes. Our child.”
“So what changed?”
“I’ve had some problems at work.”
Whatever else he’d been about to say faded as he stared at her. “What sort of problems?”
The fear that had dogged her for the past few months gripped her in tight fingers, rattling her spine until a line of shivers worked its way through her body. “Notes. Flowers. And recently, someone broke into my house.”
“Do you know who?”
“No.” Something in his gaze had her going still and words clogged in her throat.
He finally moved, dragging her close, his arms wrapping tight around her. “You don’t have any idea? None at all?”
“I can’t think of anyone.” She kept her arms at her sides, unwilling to get too close to the delicious heat that was Ethan Colton. Too afraid to draw on the strength to be found in his arms. “But the incidents began after I announced my pregnancy at work.”
“Tell me about them.” His arms stayed wrapped around her, but his hand drifted to her lower back, rubbing in small circles. Heat filled her everywhere their bodies touched, but it was that simple gesture of comfort that was nearly her undoing.
Tears gripped her throat in a hard fist and she swallowed around it, unwilling to finally let the dam break on her emotions.
“The notes are bad. And they’ve escalated. The last one was the worst. It was wrapped around a rattle in the crib I’d set up in the baby’s room.”
Ethan’s arms tightened around her while his body stiffened into implacable lines. “What did it say?”
“It said—” Lizzie winced at the hitch that caught in her throat, but pressed on anyway. “The note said, ‘I’ll be a great daddy. You’ll see.’”
Ethan gritted his teeth, his jaw so tight it was a wonder it didn’t lock.
I’ll be a great daddy.
Taunting notes from a cowardly bastard, determined to scare Lizzie. Or worse.
Although he’d avoided police work like the plague, growing up with five of his siblings in various branches of law enforcement had given him a better sense of the criminal mind than the average person. Add on his upbringing and he could practically teach a damn class on the criminal mind.
But it was the “You’ll see” signing off the note that had him the most concerned. Escalating behavior that by her own assessment had grown worse over the past few months. And taunting notes that now accompanied a B&E.
He maintained his hold on her arms, but moved them both to the couch. “Why don’t we start from the beginning. Tell me everything.”
“I need to get something out of the way first.”
Those large green eyes remained steady on his, her spine arrow straight. Despite the fatigue that had dogged him since heading out to the barn the night before, something he couldn’t quite hold back sparked deep inside.
Damn, but she was a looker. And just as forthright and honest as she’d been when she was ten.
He could still picture those days. The sanctioned foster visits from the home he had been placed in to his kid sister, Josie, and the time he’d spent with her and her best friend, Lizzie. Josie had made it a point to include the gangly, awkward girl, whispering to Ethan that Lizzie had no one and he needed to be nice.
Not that he’d have ever been anything else. His father might have set a poor example, but his mother had drilled into him and his siblings the proper way to behave. And how to treat others.
Shaking off the ancient thoughts, he focused again on Lizzie. The gangly preteen had given way to an incredibly beautiful woman. She was tall—he’d estimate five-nine to his six-two—and slim. Refined. The child who’d delighted in mud pies and tree climbing had given way to an elegant young woman with a sophisticated tumble of soft brown curls that framed her face, ambition flaring high and bright in her gaze.
“Okay. What is it?”
“I didn’t do this—” She stared down at her stomach. “I didn’t get pregnant on purpose.”
“Okay.”
“That’s it?”
“Are you telling me the truth?”
“Of course.”
“Then okay.”
Ethan wasn’t a man who smiled often, but her puzzled expression nearly had him laughing. “I’m a straight talker, Lizzie. You know that.”
“Yes,
