"Baby," he says, his voice thick and rough as he closes the distance between us in two long strides. He doesn't care who’s watching, he sets the drinks down on a high ledge and wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest.
"I'm okay," I mumble into his shirt. "I'm alright, Locke."
"You're shaking," he growls softly against my hair, his hands running up and down my back in long, desperate strokes. "f**k, Zara. I shouldn't have brought you, I shouldn't have asked you to fly out to Maine when you're still in the first trimester. We can cancel the trip right now. We'll go home and I'll put you straight back to bed."
I pull back just enough to look up into his face. His jaw is tight, his brow furrowed with deep lines of worry.
"Locke, look at me," I say firmly, taking his large, c
