Free Young Revelations (Young Series) by W.R. Kimble Page A

thing.
    I feel him nod, resting his chin on my head. “He got word about the engagement,” he tells me, somehow managing to keep his tone even. “And he wasn’t pleased.”
    “There’s a surprise,” I murmur, though I hadn’t intended for it to be out loud.
    Matthew snickers. “Indeed,” he replies wryly. “And I might have let news of the baby slip as well.”
    Despite his attempts to keep me exactly where I’ve been for several minutes, I shoot up from his chest, staring at him with what I assume is an expression of horror. “What?” I breathe.
    He nods, not meeting my eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I know this wasn’t how you wanted people to find out, but it slipped.”
    “And what was his reaction?” I wince, already coming up with a number of possibilities.
    “Again, not pleased,” Matthew says crisply. “He seems to think the baby is the reason for the wedding.”
    I would give almost anything right now for this couch to open up and swallow me whole. Of course I expected this reaction from any number of people, including Paul Young, but hearing it out loud isn’t doing anything to comfort me right now.
    Sighing, Matthew slides towards me, holding my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Hey, none of that,” he chides gently, wiping away a few tears from my cheeks. “I love you and I love our baby. I want to be married to you again. This pregnancy is in no way forcing me to do anything. My father is an idiot who has no idea what it’s like to really love somebody.” My eyebrows shoot up briefly; he smirks slightly, though it’s gone quickly. “He loves my mom. But growing up, I never saw much evidence that he would do whatever it took to make her happy. It was almost as though my mom was there to bear his children, keep his house clean, and cook his dinners. You’ve seen them together; there’s not a lot of affection in that relationship.”
    I bite my lip, thinking back to when we’d all believed Matthew had died in the plane crash and how his father held his mother all throughout her grief.
    “I’ve always had the belief he’s got another family somewhere who gets all his love,” Matthew goes on bitterly. “Probably not fair or accurate, but I couldn’t ever understand how a man could be so distant from his own children. He never really knew us; even between deployments he was happier when there was some business trip for him to make to meet with whomever he met. I think that’s the reason Claire and I are so different from our sisters: they always wanted to be exactly what he demanded; Claire and I resented the fact that he was gone so much and when he was back, he demanded so much from us. I was never good enough; neither was Claire. Over the years, our relationship has gotten slightly better, but…” He shrugs at me. “He still thinks he can control my every move and dictate my every decision. That’s what today was about.”
    Uncertain what to say, I just nod and allow him to pull me back against his chest. I don’t know what we have to do to prove to people that we’re in love and no mitigating factors have influenced our decision to get married. We agreed to get married before the baby is born on principle, but aside from that, nothing is forcing our behavior. On some level, I can understand their concerns. Maybe we are moving a little fast by most people’s standards; for us, though, this is exactly the pace at which we went when we first met. Not to this extreme, but within months of meeting, I was packing up my entire life to move across the country to live with a man I hardly knew. It was the best decision of my life and I wouldn’t take it back if I could. And I learned over the years how difficult it is to make others understand, so I just stopped trying. Those who counted understood and the rest could either adjust or stay out of our lives.
    “Dad brought up something else as well,” Matthew tells me very hesitantly. I tense against him. “And