Only my family would invite in the man who broke my heart and then expect me to be nice. I swear, they love to torture me. I think this is payback for all the times I made them sick with worry.
I put my bags down, grab the black book of donors, and flop onto my bed. I came here with a purpose, and I’m not going to let some guy mess that up. I’m on a mission, damn it. It’s time to find a daddy for my baby.
14
Ashton
“What are you doing?” Quinn asks from right outside the door of my childhood bedroom.
“Shopping.”
Like the rest of my parent’s house, this room is stuck. There is still the 90210 poster on the wall, which I can’t take down because . . . Dylan. On the other wall is LL Cool J with his thick, puckered lips blowing me a kiss that I reciprocated many times. That man is still sexy as fuck. The only thing that’s different is she threw out my old comforter and replaced it with a plain white one with new sheets. Other than that, it’s still 1999 in my bedroom.
Dinner has come and gone, and I’ve stayed up here in a show of self-torture. The scents of my mother’s cooking filled the room, causing my stomach to grumble the entire time, but based on principle, I didn’t eat. They want to feed Quinn and force me to stay here, then I’ll starve.
He’s still standing there, not taking the hint that I don’t want to talk or see him since all he got was a one-word answer. I don’t have to check, I can feel his presence as he silently watches me turn another page.
“You mean for the father of the kid you’re having?”
“Yup.” Flip again.
“Find anyone good?”
“I’m still shopping, aren’t I?”
I keep flipping the pages, not seeing the faces, and then my bed sinks beside me as he sits.
There goes pretending.
The heavy sigh releases from my chest, and I finally move my eyes to him.
It would be so easy if I didn’t think he was sexy.
I could go about my life, walk right by him without feeling anything, and live. But my traitorous heart is drawn to him.
“Your parents went to bed.”
I glance over at the clock. It’s already ten, and I’m so glad they called it a night. If they hadn’t, I would have eaten my arm off. I was that hungry and that stubborn. “Awesome. So you’re leaving?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not. I’m going to stay. Your parents didn’t want me driving back to Brooklyn this late at night.”
Of course they didn’t. “Super.” I roll my eyes and sit up. “Don’t you have a job to go do? Saving the world from evilness and whatever else it is that makes you happy?”
“You make me happy.”
Here we freaking go again. I’m not taking the bait this time. I’m too hungry, and I might end up biting him. “Look, just go back to Virginia. Go be a badass, and we can part as friends, okay?”
“No, I don’t think that’s how this will go.”
“Well, now I understand why they say you have a God complex. You don’t get to make that choice.”
Quinn chuckles and shrugs. “Maybe not, but I’ve been thinking that, since I only have six months left on my enlistment, I would start to explore my options.”
“Please, God, make this stop.”
“You didn’t say that the other night.”
I drop the book and glare at him. “I wouldn’t talk too loudly here, the walls are paper thin, then again, maybe we should”—my voice raises—“discuss how we had sex.”
Quinn shifts forward, his hand covers my mouth. “Are you trying to get me killed?”
I mumble, but his hand blocks the words. When he removes it, I grin. “Is it working?”
“You know, I’m not sure your dad wouldn’t be happy about it.”
I’m not either.
“Well, if you could leave me to finish my task . . .”
“Ashton,” Quinn says my name while tucking his finger under my chin, “we should talk about last night and how you lied about being pregnant.”
We should, but I don’t want to. I’m still petulant enough to be angry about it all. “I don’t have anything to say.”
He laughs. “I doubt that.”
I actually have a lot to say, but I don’t think any of it matters. My heart is already so torn apart and struggling to find a way through it. I love him, and yet, it changes nothing. I’m still going through with the procedure and going to live my life. My having sex with him does not change anything.
“What’s the point?”
His thumb brushes against my lip. “The point is that what happened between us matters. Do you not see how much I care? That even when I thought you were already pregnant, it was irrelevant regarding my feelings?”
That part is great. It’s nice to see that he cares, but there’s no way that he’s going to sit idly by and actually watch me do it. “And what about now, Quinn? What about when I tell you that next week I’ll be starting my process? Are you going to hold my hand through it? Because I don’t think you will. You are not getting the picture that I’m done with us. I’m moving on, and I came here to tell my parents that I’m having a baby.” I say the words as my hand hits the black book.
He looks down where the information is laid out. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
“You want to know? I’ll show you.”
He grins. “Sure, let’s look.”
I fucking hate it when my plan backfires. I grab the book and flip to the page of the only guy that I put a sticky note on. It’s not even like I can pretend otherwise because his all-knowing eyes have probably already seen it.
“This one.”
He pulls the book onto his lap, and I feel sick to my stomach. This is the worst because, of all the damn candidates, he’s going to know why I chose this one.
He starts to read aloud. “Thirty-six years old, green eyes, black hair, has a master’s in business after completing eight years in the—” He stops.
Our eyes meet, and I stand my ground. “Please, go on.”
Quinn doesn’t miss a beat. “Navy with six years as a navy SEAL.”
“I found your replacement,” I say with smugness. “Or maybe it even is you since there’s such an uncanny resemblance to your life.”
He closes the black book and hands it back to me. “Or you could pick me.”
Oh, please.
“Pick you? Why the hell would I pick you when I’ve already had you, and clearly, it didn’t work out?”
“No, but that was then, and I’m here now. I’ll happily give you a few squirts.”
“Gross.”
Like I would want to have a baby with him. No thank you. I have enough drama in my life, and I don’t need to have a mini Quinn around.
Or at least that’s what I’m lying to myself about.
The truth is, I’ve wanted that for a long time. How dare he come in now and offer?
“You’ve got some nerve,” I say with anger pulsing through me. “You come back after years of playing with my heart and offer to be my donor? Screw you.”
“We’ve already done that. I’m happy to do it again.”
I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t that good.”
Quinn tenses, and I hope I pissed him off. “I’m going to ignore that.”
“Ignore away. I’m going to sit here and hope that your lack of sexual gratification upsets you enough that you leave.”
We both know I’m full of shit, but wound me and I’m going to come for blood too. If he wanted to be the father of my child, he had all the time in the world to get it together.
“Regardless, we both know it’s what we want.”
Oh, please. “You’re so full of shit.”
He shrugs and moves in even closer. “Maybe I am.”
“I know you are. You don’t want a kid. You don’t really want to be here for me. You want me back, and you’re going to say whatever crap you can to make me think things are different. No need to be accommodating now, Ladykiller.”
“I have two choices, fragolina. I can love you and let you make these choices because it’s what you want or I can be a dick, and we both know that only makes you want something more. I’m picking the first.”
“How pragmatic and self-centered. You think this is about you, but there is your first mistake. My having a baby has nothing to do with you. It’s about me. I want this. I want to be a mother and start my family. I wasted forty-three-plus eggs on you, buddy, and I’m not wasting one single more.”
He runs his finger along my cheek. “I see that, which is why . . .” He drops his hand and gets to his feet. “I’m here to make sure that nothing happens to you or the baby you’ll be having with replacement me since you clearly don’t want me.”
“I need protection from you.”
“Why is that?”
Because I still love you. Because you’re in my damn head, and even with all the men in that book, I picked you anyway.
I bite my lips to keep from saying that. I can’t make any mistakes—or any more than I’ve already made. I get to my feet, staring him down so we’re on the same level. “You know what? You aren’t going to change my mind, Quinn Miller. You’re irrelevant to me and my life. If you want to follow me around, watch me get pregnant and round with another man’s baby . . . that’s on you.”
His eyes flash with a hint of anger, and I fight back my grin. Yeah, he’s not so okay with that, after all. It has to be killing him because, no matter what we say, we both belong to each other. I can’t imagine the rage I would feel if I knew another woman was having his kid. I would lose my damn shit.
“We’ll see.”
I cross my arms and jut my hip out. “What? You think I’m not going to do it?”
“No. I know you will, and I’ll be right there, holding your hand through it all. Pushing me away might be your goal, but . . . like I said . . . I’m here. You’re stubborn, I’ll give you that, but I’m not budging. So, do your worst.”
Challenging me was a mistake. I take two steps closer to him, so we’re nose to nose. “Oh, I will, but make no mistake, darling, my worst is just as bad as yours.”
He laughs once and then wraps his arm around me, hoisting me to his chest. I squirm and try to fight back. “Put me down you idiot.”
“I saw a spider.”
I look around, wrapping my arms around his neck. “What? Where?”
“It was right there.” His voice drops lower. “I saved you again.”
There wasn’t a spider, and I should be letting him go. I should be fighting, but I don’t seem to want to. “Quinn . . .”
“Ashton?”
My pulse spikes, and my throat goes dry. I want to kiss him. Fighting with him is like foreplay, and I’m more turned on than I would like to admit. I could ask him, and I know he’d do it, but I pull on every last ounce of restraint I have. “Protectors don’t typically kiss their charges.”
His eyes drop to my lips. “Then we’ll start tomorrow. Tonight, I’m going to kiss you, so call me whatever you want.”
And, then, I no longer think about food because the only thing I’m hungry for is him.
15
Ashton
“Where is Quinn?” Mom asks as we’re sitting at the table.
“Hopefully, he’s running his way back home.”
She scoffs. “I hope not because your father is supposed to be with him.”
It’s just us this morning, my father and Quinn went for a run, apparently, he’s healed enough to need to show off to my father. On a freaking run. My fifty-seven-year-old father, who hasn’t run since he got out of the army, decided to do some good ole fashion PT with my navy SEAL ex-boyfriend. Like that doesn’t have disaster spelled across it with a capital D.
“You know Dad is probably going to have a heart attack today?”
She shakes her head. “He’ll be fine. He’s as strong as an ox.”
“He’s also as big as one.”
She laughs. “That’s how you keep a man, my darling. You feed him.”
“Then Daddy isn’t going anywhere.”
“Anyway, back to you and Quinn. Did you two talk last night?”
We talked and then we kissed. We kissed with so much passion that I was afraid I might die, but, man, I would’ve been okay with that as my exit plan. After his lips left mine, I pushed him away, remembering all the reasons it was a bad idea to be making out with him. He keeps getting the wrong impression.
I nod. “Sure.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound too promising.”
“It’s not. Now, when will Dad be back? I have some things to discuss with you both.”
Mom leans back in her chair. “I was trying to talk about Quinn.”
“Yes, and I was trying to avoid it.”
My mother pushes the plate of bagels closer. “Eat, and whenever your father gets back, we can talk more about our ideas.”
“I had one bagel already, Ma. I’m fine. But what do you mean your ideas?”
She shrugs. “It’s just a few things that Quinn mentioned and we think he has a good plan.”
I swear this woman is going to drive me to drink with her constant pushing. I know she wants me to be happy, and to her, that means marriage, but seriously, it’s not going to work with Quinn. You’d think by now, they’d know that I’m the last person to do this with. The harder she shoves me toward Quinn, the faster I’m going to run the other way. I’m built that way.
Then again, maybe this is the best thing they can do.
“Listen, Mom, I do have something I want to talk to you about before the guys get here . . .”
There’s no time like the present to get it out there. Not to mention it would finally get her to stop talking to me about him.
“Okay, sweetheart, what is it?”
“I’m going to have a baby.”
“What?” she screams and then breaks off into prayer. “Oh, Lord, please forgive my daughter for her sins. Please understand that we tried to raise her right, but this is all from my husband’s side.”
“Mom!” I call to her as I place my hand on her arm. “Stop. I’m not pregnant, I’m just telling you what my plans are.”
“You’re not pregnant?”
“No, but I’m going to get myself pregnant. I’m going to go through the clinic to have a baby.”
“Why would you do this? I don’t understand. What about Quinn? What about a husband? You’re going to just artificially stick it inside you?”
Oh my mother is so dense and yet so adorable. “I mean that I’m going to skip the husband and dating part and try to get pregnant on my own.”
“Ashton, honey.” She laughs softly. “You need a husband to have a baby.”
“No, Mom. I need a man. I don’t need to be married to him.”
She makes a cross sign and closes her eyes. “This is too much.”
I need to get her to see that there’s more to this. It’s about our family history not exactly being on my side. My hope is that she’ll understand at least that part. “Do you remember what you went through to have me?”
Her eyes lift to mine. “Of course I do.”
“And you remember how hard it was?”
“Ashton . . .”
“Understand that there are studies showing the fertility risks can be genetic. I have no idea why it was so hard or how you ever endured the number of miscarriages you did, not to mention the stress you put on your body to actually have me. It’s truly just a small testament to the mother you are. I might have the same complications. The older I get, the more issues I might face, and I can’t risk never being able to have a child. It would kill me, Ma.”
She shakes her head, but there’s a thread of understanding there. She lived it and somehow survived the suffering because, in the end, she got me. If I wait, I may not get the desired outcome.
“I don’t want you to be alone.”
I touch her hand, squeezing lightly. “I’m never alone. I always have you and Daddy.”
“Yes, but you know what I mean, sweetheart.”
It must be hard for her to see me this way. Her views are very old fashioned, and I am the furthest thing from that. I couldn’t care less about having a husband before the baby. In fact, it would probably be more fitting for me to go the other way. At least then I would have a man who knowingly loved my child and me from the start, unlike if it were Quinn who never wanted kids.
“If I found someone—someone worthy and who loved me like I need to be loved,” I tack on for emphasis. “I would’ve married him and be doing this the way you want me to, but I haven’t, so I’m looking at my other options. I don’t want to wait.”
“I will always support you, Ash. You’re the miracle that God granted me. I can only pray you’ll wait and have a baby with a man you love, even if it’s harder for you.”
Her version of support and mine are a little different. “I’m not waiting.”
“I figured. Well, then, I will pray that God gives you the baby you want and watches over you during your struggles.”
Here’s why I love my mother. Because even though she truly doesn’t like any of it, she loves me enough to find a way through it. “Thanks, Mom.”
“But you’re going to do something for me.”
And then I remember that her love sometimes also can be my biggest downfall. “I am?”
“Yes, you’re going to be kind and considerate to Quinn.”
Oh, dear God. She has to be kidding. “This is your one request? This is what you want me to do in order for you to be okay with me having a kid?” She shrugs as if it makes total sense. Maybe to her it does, but I don’t get it. “Why is Quinn so important to you?”
“He’s not, my darling girl, you are, and he loves you. Plus . . .” She sighs as she stands, gathering the plates. “We know that he’ll stop this craziness and hopefully, in a few months, you’ll be married to him.”
There aren’t words that seem adequate enough. I don’t know if I could even attempt a conversation at this point. Still, I open my mouth before closing it twice. “You and Dad are nuts, you know that?”
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