concern touched her, as did his immediate willingness to speak to the elephant in the room that most everyone else went out of their way to ignore.
“No, not my father. Although the PTA isn’t crazy that the child of a killer is teaching their children.”
The words popped out before she could stop them, her discussion with Jake still bearing more residual anger than she’d realized.
Hoyt laid a hand over hers, folded on top of the kitchen table. “Reese. They don’t matter. You can’t believe they do. You’re a great teacher. Surely they understand that.”
That overwhelming support struck her hard and deep, like a punch to the chest. Only instead of pain, there was a strange warmth, filling her up even as she struggled to catch her breath at the kindness and ready support. “You going to go over and swing at them, too?”
“Will it work?”
“I doubt it. Although I’d pay big money to see Amanda Carneros take a punch to the nose.”
“She still kicking around?”
“She’s a fixture on the PTA. Eight kids have a way of doing that to a person.”
Hoyt gave a mock shudder. “My condolences.”
“Much as I appreciate the support and the diverting imagery, there’s actually another reason I’m here.”
“Sure.” A soft smile had settled over his features, which nothing—even a split lower lip—could mar. “What is it?”
The stomach jitters ramped up as she accepted the fact that she bore life-altering news. News, she knew, that wouldn’t change or grow any easier to hear by waiting another moment longer.
“I’m pregnant.”
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