His eyes meet mine. “Are you? Because, maybe you’re right. I tell you that I’ve changed and then I show up here, fight with you, and we end up fucking on the couch. I’m sorry I keep doing this.” Quinn pulls his shorts on and yanks his shirt back over his head. “I should go.”
I turn and head to the window, not wanting to watch him leave me again. I stare out at the world that’s moving on around me, ever-turning, changing, and I feel like I’m going in circles.
Quinn has been a part of my life that I never thought I would give up. There were happy times throughout the three years. Of course, we fight. That’s who we are. He’s an alpha asshole and I’m a stubborn bitch. However, when we are both just us . . . it is magical.
He made me smile, put up with me when I was crabby, and took care of me when I was sad. After the whole thing with my ex, Quinn never judged me. He didn’t try to make me feel lower than I already felt. No, he stood there, horrified that any man would hurt two women so badly.
I think I fell in love with him that day.
Just that simply. As though there was really no other option. Loving him was inevitable, just like losing him was.
But he’s here now, wanting another chance, and I slept with him. Does that mean anything?
“Look,” I say with resignation after a few minutes of thinking. “Can you give me a bit of time to figure out my life?”
“I’ll give you all the time you need to figure things out.” He brings his lips to mine as his thumb rubs my cheek.
How can a short kiss leave me feeling so lost? I look away, wrapping the blanket tighter around myself. After a few minutes of me staring out at the glimmer of lights of the city, I hear him clear his throat. “I have to think,” I explain.
“I know.” He stands at the door, and I make my way toward him.
Once it closes, I need to lock him out of my apartment and my heart.
“It’s a lot . . .”
He watches me, saying, “I know, and now you’re going to have a baby, right?”
There is something about his tone that makes my senses spike. “Right . . .”
“I mean that there isn’t just us to think about. You’re going to have another man in our life and that’ll mean compromise on both our parts.”
My eyes narrow. “I don’t think he’ll be an issue . . . why are you being so understanding?”
“Me? I’m not. I’m stating the obvious. With you being pregnant and all . . . I need to think about the entire situation and how we could navigate the murky waters of co-parenting.”
“Okay.” He knows. He saw the book and figured it out and that’s why his mood changed.
He turns, opening the door, and then stops in the hall before he’s fully out. “You dropped this.” Quinn hands me the black book. He leans in and kisses my cheek with a grin. “I’d pick the guy on page twenty. He looks the most like me.”
Son of a bitch. “Which is why I haven’t picked him.”
Quinn smirks. “Also, you probably should’ve put the wine away before you opened the door.”
“Asshole!” I close the door before he can reply, but I still hear his laughter on the other side.
Well, we’ll see how hard he’s laughing when he finds out I’m still going through with it.
12
Quinn
She’s not pregnant. Not yet at least.
It means I have time to change her mind about going through with this ridiculous plan to have a baby with some other guy. That’s not happening . . . over my dead fucking body.
For the last few years, I’ve listened to her talk nonstop about a baby, which was part of the reason I walked away. Being a father was never high on my priorities list. I’m not opposed to kids. I love Liam’s kids. I’m Uncle Quinn to Aarabelle and Shane, and I spoil the shit out of them, but then I give them back.
I get to do all the things I’m not supposed to without having to deal with any of the consequences. Besides, having a kid would’ve gone directly against the plan to have nothing worth living for.
My alarm dings again, letting me know it’s almost time to walk Ashton to work. I sit up and wince as the pain in my leg shoots through my hip. Last night, I overdid it. However, I’d take the pain a million times over again if it means having her in any way.
I stand and head to the bathroom so I can try to tend my wounds. There’s still a gash on my side that’s red as hell today. As bad as this is, I was lucky and walked away with nothing permanent.
Bennett will need a shit ton of physical therapy, and Trevor was the worst of the three survivors. He’s already had two surgeries to repair his leg, and I have no idea if he’ll walk again. All we do know is that his time as a SEAL is over.
Which reminds me of a call I need to make.
Mark answers on the first ring. “Dude, you better have a good reason to call me this early.”
“Good morning, Twilight,” I say with a smile, knowing I woke him.
“Yeah, yeah. What’s up, Quinn?”
I fill him in on the details of the accident and the fact that Trevor may need some help. His wife left him about a year ago, so he has no one, and when he gets discharged, he’ll be totally fucked. When guys like us lose a part of what makes us who we are, we often don’t recover. God knows that, if I wasn’t able to do this, I’d be broken.
Being a SEAL isn’t a job, it’s who I am.
“I’ll check on him. What about Bennett?” Mark asks.
“I haven’t . . .”
“You haven’t called?”
“I’ve been busy trying to get Ashton to forgive me.” It’s not an excuse, but if it were me in the hospital and him out here chasing his girl, he’d be doing what I am. He pretty much threw my ass out of there when I was released, demanding I go get her.
Mark chuckles. “I’m sure that’s going well.”
“It’s a work in progress.”
“Yeah?” Mark laughs harder. “I’ve known that woman for years, and she is stubborn as fuck.”
I’m aware. “She’ll come around.”
“Right. Well, I’ll reach out to Trevor and Bennett. You know that Jackson and I will do whatever we can to help any SEAL who needs a job.”
“That’s why I called.”
Mark falls silent, and then, as if he can’t help it, he starts in on me. “Listen, this call is great, but if you fuck with her head again, you’re going to need to work with me too because I’ll break both your legs. I know you’re an idiot, and I’ve let that part go, but this last time you really hurt her.”
Ashton and Mark have been friends since Catherine came around, and while I usually appreciate the whole big-brother thing, his threat is unnecessary. “I’m not going to hurt her.”
“Good. See to it that you don’t . . . that’s if you can get her not to kill you first.”
“I love her,” I say to him because he understands. Mark was a lot like me in the way he felt about relationships. We had this talk when I first started dating her.
“Took you long enough to figure it out.”
I laugh once. “Yeah, no shit. I have to start on part two of this, thanks for helping with the guys.”
“Don’t mention it. Good luck taming the feral cat.” Mark hangs up while chuckling.
I feel like the biggest dickhead and hate that all my friends think the same thing. I don’t know what the hell was wrong with me, but now that I’m aware of how badly I fucked up, I’m going to make it right.
No matter what I do, I’ll put back her broken pieces and hold them together.
13
Ashton
“All your tests came back great. I see nothing that should prevent you from being able to conceive,” Clara says with a smile. “I’d like to try intrauterine insemination first, and if we’re not successful with that, then we can explore other options.”
My God, this could really happen. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Have you picked the donor?”
I shak
e my head. “I didn’t look yesterday. I wanted to, but it was late, and well . . . someone took up my damn time. But I’ll have all weekend.”
Tonight, I’m going to head to New Jersey to avoid my stalker, who has established his camp in New York. He didn’t appear at my door this morning or during my commute, which was both great and a little disappointing. I thought he would’ve popped up with his smug and very sexy smile.
I spent the entire time looking over my shoulder, wondering when he was going to rear his ugly face—well it’s not actually ugly at all. My muscles were tight until I got in the building, but that was when the frustration sunk in. Why did I want to see him? Why did it matter if he wasn’t around? I should be happy about it because that’s what I want. Who cares if I won’t have another angry fuck session? I don’t want that anyway.
“Great. Once you get that narrowed down, we’ll get you on the schedule and get the medications ordered. Since your period is due in about twelve days, you can take the shot right after your last day, or you can wait another month if you haven’t picked a donor.”
Hell no I’m not waiting. “I’ll have a man figured out by Monday.”
“I’m sure you’ll pick someone wonderful, Ashton.”
I don’t know about that, but whoever it is, they’re about to have a kid and not even know it. It’s so surreal. I can’t imagine knowing that I donated an egg that would eventually be a baby without my knowing.
“Yeah, I’m sure too.”
“Are you okay?” she asks with furrowed brows.
“This is really going to happen? I mean, it’s real, right? I’m going to be a mom?”
Clara nods with a grin. “I hope so. As you know, success rates vary, but financially this is the best first step. We’ll run some bloodwork right before and go from there. But I have a good feeling about your chances. We know you can conceive already, and there are no abnormalities.”
“Right. I mean, this is all good news.”
Her eyes stay on mine. “You’re nervous?”
“Yeah.” I laugh. “It’s one thing when it’s sort of conceptual, but when you know it can be a reality, it becomes a lot more . . . real.”
Clara gets up from her seat and comes around the desk to sit beside me. “I encourage you to talk to your family, Ash. Not only because their support will be great, but so that you’re not alone through any of the possibilities. I know you’re this strong woman, and I admire you for it, but the added hormones can mess with your head.”
Any medication could have side effects, but hormones are probably worse. “I’ll think about it,” I tell her.
I know my mother would be supportive, after she lost her mind. My father, though, I don’t know. Catherine and Gretchen already are happy for me, but they’re not here. In terms of a local support system, I’m really alone.
My cousins are all over the state and raising their own families. It seems like a lot to ask them to be around.
“Please do, I’ll be here, but I’m also your doctor, so I have to keep our friendship separate a bit.”
“I appreciate it, Clara, I really do.”
“I’m happy you trust me enough.”
“There were no other options. You’re the best, and you know it.”
She squeezes my hand. “I’m only as good as my embryologist.”
“Speaking of your embryologist, I should get back to the lab. We have a few retrievals today.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you next week?”
I get to my feet. “Definitely, and then we’ll make me a baby.”
Once work is done, I get home, pack a bag, and get in the car to trek out to Jersey. My mother was over the moon delighted that I was coming. No doubt she’s cooking and running my father ragged to get all my favorite things.
My mommy is the best.
I know that I can tell her all about my issues with Quinn and she’ll understand. Yes, she loves him, but she loves me more. It’s the traitor I call Dad who I need to work on.
On the way home, I look for Quinn again, but I don’t see him. I knew this would be the outcome and this solidified it. Nothing has changed. He doesn’t love me or want a family. He got what he wanted and now he’s gone again.
I pull into my parents’ driveway, park, and make my way up the porch steps.
“I’m here!” I say as I juggle four bags and try to open the screen door that never cooperates. Sure enough, the one bag slips off my shoulder, slapping me in the face as I bend to adjust the other ones. “Help! Anyone!”
I hear my father’s laugh and then hands are pulling at the bags. “Ouch! Dad, wait!” I groan as I’m trying to move the opposite way.
“Stop fighting, and it wouldn’t be stuck.” I hear the voice that does not belong to my father say.
I look up, my hair in my face, but I don’t need perfect vision to know who it is. “And then the cat came back . . .”
Quinn chuckles. “I never left.”
“Ashton, get inside, the air is on!” my mother complains.
I push my hair back and there is the grin that has haunted me all day. The look on Quinn’s face says it all—he got me.
I allowed myself to think he was gone, allowed my guard to drop just enough that seeing him sends a rush of emotions over me. I’m happy, sad, angry, hopeful, turned on, and want to slap him all at the same time.
“Your mom made pasta fagioli,” he says with his hand extended.
“I can smell it.”
He nods. “It’s your favorite.”
“I know that, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
I snort. “That wasn’t a real thanks.”
“I know, but any form of gratitude you send my way, I’m going to take it.”
“Well, that’ll be the last one.”
Quinn’s smile grows. “We’ll see, I’m a charming man and have set my sights on you.”
Oh, please. “I’m a grown woman who has her sights on something else. Now, let me in before my mother rips my head off about the air.”
He takes a step back, grabbing all four of my bags with an ease I hadn’t been able to pull off, and we head into the kitchen. My dad sits with the paper and Mom is fussing with the pot on the stove.
“I didn’t know you were hosting company,” I say as I walk to my dad. I kiss his cheek, and he grunts.
“Quinn isn’t company,” Mom says as she stirs.
Right. He’s the son they never had.
I walk to her, giving her a hello. She touches my cheek with a smile. “You look tired.”
“It’s a wonder I’m not depressed after I visit.”
“Don’t be fresh,” she chides. “I was saying that you’re working too hard.”
“Actually, it’s not work that kept me awake last night. Quinn was over late and let me know all the things he was feeling.”
Dad puts the paper down, and I wait for him to lay into him. My father is conservative, and I know he wouldn’t like the idea of a guy in my apartment late at night. “You were at her place late arguing?”
Quinn straightens his back just a little. “We were, sir. I went over to explain how I felt, which you had suggested—”
“Wait! You suggested?” I eye my father.
“Go on,” he says to Quinn, ignoring me.
“I told her, but as you see, I did a bad job of it. We argued, but nothing serious, and then I gave her some space like she asked.”
Oh, please. There was no space between us last night, and there sure as hell isn’t any now. “Space? You’re at my parents’ house where I came just in case you didn’t actually leave for Virginia! This isn’t space, my friend. This is the opposite.” Dad grunts once and then picks the paper back up. “Daddy! Are you serious? You’re not going to throw him out? Tell him how insane he is for being here when I clearly don’t want him to be?”
“Nope.”
“I tried to get her to see how I feel about her,” Quinn says as if he’s saddened by my unwillingness to see thi
ngs his way.
Nice to see he left out the part where he had me naked.
“I think you did a good job rising to that occasion.” I make the offhanded sexual joke and wait.
Dad doesn’t move, his voice carries over the paper. “Most men rise to the occasion when they’re forced to.”
It’s by the grace of God that I don’t burst out laughing.
Fine. They want Quinn here, they can have him. I have a perfectly wonderful apartment a state away where Quinn is not.
I give my mother a kiss on the cheek, not wanting to be rude to her and suffer her wrath, and then grab my bags.
“Where are you going?” my mother calls out when she sees what I’m doing.
“I’m going home.”
“Ashton!”
“Ashton Caputo, you put those bags down right now,” Daddy says with his deep timbre that still makes my stomach churn. Damn him and his big voice. “Now, I don’t know what has you all fired up, but you will not be rude to anyone in my home.”
I want to curse, scream, throw something at him so he wakes up and sees that I’m not in the wrong here. However, I do none of that. “Yes, Dad.”
“I know that you and Quinn aren’t together any longer, but he’s here as a friend of mine.”
“Fine,” I say as I cross my arms over my chest. “But when he leaves, I hope you remember I’m your daughter and this is mutiny at its best.”
He rolls his eyes. “There’s the Irish like your mother.”
“What?” Mom’s head snaps to him.
“He said there’s the girl I wish was like her mother,” I cover for him.
Dad taps his finger across his nose, which is our sign. He started it when I was in grade school. Each time I was sad, he’d quickly bump it across and smile. I thought it was so funny that I started doing it back. Then it became something we did whenever we wanted to say something but couldn’t around Mom. Whether it was thanks or I love you or watch it, it’s all in his eyes.
That one was a thanks, kid.
“I bet he didn’t, but very sweet of you to cover for him. Why don’t you go put your bags in your room and then come back when you’re able to manage a sweeter disposition?” Mom says as not just a suggestion but a requirement.
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