“I’m not the baby’s father.” The soft, achingly familiar voice has me tearing my gaze off my brothers and whipping around to look at Easton. I don’t know when he walked into the bar, but he looks about as tired as I feel. He’s wearing a loose white button-up with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and khaki slacks. “But I’ll be the dad if Shayleigh will let me.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but those words seem to stun my entire family to silence. Especially me. Even Mom’s quiet, though she is smirking beside me.

“What did you just say?” I ask softly.

Easton smiles. “I said it’ll depend on you, but I’ve made my choice.” His intense gaze slides from my eyes down to my shoes, and something inside me shimmies in response. His nearness sends an electric current of energy through me every time. “You look . . .” He swallows hard and attempts a smile. “Just beautiful.”

I glance down at the simple blue dress I borrowed from Teagan. It’s fitted through the body and stops at the knees. I won’t be able to wear dresses like this much longer . . . at least not if I don’t want to advertise my pregnancy. “Thank you.”

“Can we talk?” he asks. He casts a glance over his shoulder and toward the exit. “I have some things I’d like to say. In private, if that’s okay.”

I nod, grab my purse, and lead the way out to the back. I don’t look to make sure he’s following me as I head through the kitchen, but I don’t have to. I feel him there.

I hesitate outside Jake’s office. The last time we were in there . . .

“I thought maybe we could talk down on the beach,” Easton says. “It’s a nice night.”

“I’d like that.” I’m in heels, but we’re only a couple of blocks away, and I can kick them off as soon as we get to the sand.

We’re quiet as we walk toward Lakeshore Drive, neither in a hurry to start this conversation. I don’t know why he’s waiting to say what he has to say, but I know why I am. I want what he offered in the restaurant, but I’m afraid he’s not offering it for the right reasons. I want Easton to be my family, my partner, and my baby’s dad—even if he’ll never be its genetic father. But I also know how honorable Easton is. I know why he offered what he did.

“I won’t ask if you meant what you just said to my family,” I say, mustering my courage. “Because I know you did.” His face is guarded as he waits for me to say more. “Easton, I would never ask that of you. I couldn’t. It’s too much.”