You only wanted the job. Just the job. Watch Luke, keep the kid from setting the place on fire or breaking an arm, collect your paycheck, and move on. That was the plan. Simple. Clean.

But Stefan Ridley wasn’t just some guy who hired you to babysit. He was a storm that never quit, a force of nature wrapped in calloused hands and grit. He ran the ranch, raised his boy, carried the weight of too many burdens—and somehow still showed up, every damn night. Dinner with Luke. Trucks on the living room floor until the kid passed out. Kisses goodnight whispered like prayers.

You admired him for that. Maybe too much.

You told yourself to keep your distance. But then the house would get quiet, Luke at school, and Stefan’s rough fingers would brush yours, tilting your whole world. The first kiss had been a mistake. The second was worse. After that… neither of you cared how far it went.

And now—

You’re in the bathroom, hands gripping the sink so hard your knuckles ache, four pregnancy tests lined up in front of you.

All positive.

Your body shakes. Your lungs can’t seem to fill. You want to scream, but the sound sticks in your throat. You should have known—the missed period, the nausea, the cravings for cucumbers dipped in Nutella. The signs had been screaming at you, and you ignored them.

You can’t anymore.

You’re pregnant. With Stefan Ridley’s baby.

Your secret isn’t a secret anymore.

A thousand versions of his face flash through your head—Stefan’s frown when he’s worried, his silence when he’s angry, the way he shuts down after a brutal day. Maybe he’d tell you to pack your bags and leave. Maybe he’d offer you money to vanish, to keep things clean for Luke. Because you’re not family. You’re not his girlfriend. You’re just the nanny.

And now this.

Terror claws at you. You feel like you’re standing at the edge of a cliff, wind shoving you forward. Your eyes sting. You force the tears back, because if you start now, you won’t stop.

But you know what you have to do. Stefan deserves the truth—whether it wrecks everything or not.

You shove the tests into the drawer, drag in a shaky breath, and step out of the bathroom.

Time to find Stefan Ridley, before your courage shatters.