by Erin Rylie
Sophie threw on her favorite yoga pants, with sheer cutouts running down the sides, and a comfortable off-the-shoulder shirt. She padded to the kitchen in search of Rafe and her dad. The latter was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the paper. He looked up when she sat down across from him, his glasses on the tip of his nose, coffee cup halfway to his mouth.
He took a big gulp of black coffee and smiled at Sophie. “Mornin’, pumpkin. Rafe went to the store to grab eggs for breakfast. Did you sleep well?”
“Best sleep I’ve gotten in a while actually. It’s hard to get comfortable when my back is always aching. I didn’t think I was far enough along for back pain.” She’d been struggling to stay asleep for the last few weeks, waking up in the middle of the night to back aches or random cravings. Last night, however, she’d slept like the dead, wrapped up in Rafe’s strong arms. A blush stained her cheeks when she thought of the wicked way he’d woken her up.
Her father chuckled. “The look on your face tells me you didn’t sleep alone. That boy is smitten with you, ya know?”
“Hardly. He’s just around because I’m having his child. He’s always wanted to be a father.”
“Go ahead and tell yourself that, pumpkin. I don’t believe for one second that Rafe is the kind of guy who would stick around if he didn’t want to.”
Sophie knew her father spoke the truth. Rafe wasn’t the kind of person who would do anything he didn’t want to do. That didn’t mean that he wanted to stay for the right reasons though. He was so excited to have a child; the woman giving that to him was bound to be on the receiving end of his affection—for a while at least. How could she ever know that Rafe was with her for her and not just their child?
“I see those cogs working, Soph. Give him a chance. He’s got a good head on his shoulders. I like him much more than I liked that idiot chef you brought around.”
Before she could respond, she heard the front door open, indicating Rafe had returned from the store. She wondered what he would make them this morning; was French toast too much to ask? He placed the groceries on the kitchen counter and bent down to kiss her cheek. With no makeup or bra on, and with wet hair, she was sure she looked like a mess, but Rafe took in her appearance leisurely, as though savoring it.
“Looking beautiful as ever, babe. How do pancakes sound?”
Though she smiled at the term of endearment, Sophie tried to keep her shoulders from slumping in disappointment. She knew it was ridiculous to be sad she was getting pancakes instead of French toast, but her cravings had been out of control recently. This baby liked sweets apparently.
“Pancakes sound great, Rafe.”
Rafe bursted out laughing. “Oh Soph, your face is priceless right now. If you don’t want pancakes just tell me what you want and I’ll make it.”
“Awfully sure of yourself, Officer. What if you can’t make what I want?”
Rafe scoffed, “Try me.”
“Fine, I want eggs benedict,” she replied, throwing out the most challenging breakfast dish she could think of.
“Hmm, I don’t think I grabbed everything I would need for a hollandaise, but the store isn’t far. I’ll be right back.”
Was he for real? She was tempted to let him go to the store just so she could see what her dad really thought of him. He’d been sexy as hell making pancakes the other day, and those were relatively easy to make. When he grabbed his keys and started to head back to the front door, Sophie stopped him.
“Rafe! I was kidding. You don’t have to go to the store. I’m sure we have the ingredients to make what I want.” She rummaged through her dad’s kitchen, locating the items she knew were needed to make her favorite breakfast meal. She’d tried once a few years ago to make it and had ended up completely ruining her skillet and burning the food to a crisp. Locating the bread in the pantry, she grabbed cinnamon, nutmeg, and finally the milk from the fridge. She pulled the eggs out of the bag Rafe had brought in and procured a large bowl, skillet, and spatula as well. Rafe approached from behind, looking over her shoulder at the ingredients.
“French toast, huh?” He kissed her bare shoulder. “Go sit down, I’ve got this.”
Sophie returned to the table and was met with a smirk and raised eyebrow from her father. She’d almost forgotten where they were, too wrapped up in Rafe to remember anyone else existed. Her dad took a sip of coffee and cleared his throat.
“So you cook often, Rafe?”
Rafe shrugged. “When I have the time, yeah. It gets expensive to eat out every day, especially on a patrol officer’s salary. Learning how to cook saves me money and helps keep me healthy. Unless I’m cooking for Sophie, of course.”
Before Sophie could defend herself, her father laughed. “So is she still eating pie for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?”
Sophie said no at the exact moment Rafe said yes. She shot him a glare across the kitchen, the traitor. He blew her a kiss and chuckled, turning back to his cooking.
After they’d eaten breakfast and cleaned up, Rafe and Sophie had said goodbye to her father and hit the road. It was still pretty early in the morning, but Rafe needed to get in a workout and a nap before he worked that night, so the sooner they returned to Houston, the better. She spent the drive home contemplating her morning: the way Rafe seemed to fit into her life so seamlessly. Her dad didn’t like many people, had never liked a single one of her exes, but wholeheartedly approved of Rafe.
She certainly couldn’t deny that he was a great guy—different from her exes in every way imaginable, and although she knew it was irrational, she just couldn’t shake her fear that something would go wrong. She was falling for Rafe against her better judgment, and she never wanted him to feel trapped like her dad had. Sophie needed some time away from him to think things over. When they returned to Houston, she would take a couple weeks to work through her emotions and come to a definitive decision. It wasn’t fair of her to be so wishy-washy with him.
When they were about thirty minutes outside of city limits, passing the Kickapoo exit that always made Sophie snicker, Rafe’s phone rang through the Bluetooth in his car. She saw Carlos’s name pop up on the screen and reached across the center console to push the accept button on Rafe’s steering wheel.
“Hey! I was going to ignore that call, Sophie.”
Carlos’s voice came through the speaker system. “Wow, real nice, fucker. Ignoring your partner in his time of need.”
Rafe scoffed. “Time of need? You’re such a drama queen.”
“This is absolutely my time of need, man! I’m in a bit of a situation. I went home with this girl last night, and today when I tried to get some morning nookie, I guess I called her the wrong name.”
Sophie snorted. “Keeping it classy, as always.”
“I can feel your judgment through the phone line and I’m not amused, shortcake. Anyway, this chick kicked me out and I didn’t have time to grab my wallet, keys, or clothes. My phone is about to die and I can’t call an Uber while I’m naked. I need you to come get me. I’m hiding in the damn stairwell at her apartment complex and I’m sure her neighbors will call the cops on me if they find me. The last thing I need is another naked incident for the guys at the precinct to laugh over.”
Rafe laughed. “What do I get out of this though?”
“Dude! Now is not the time to fuck with me. I will tell Sophie about the strip—”
“Text me the damn address, asshole,” Rafe replied before hanging up. “He wasn’t about to say strip club. He was talking about a strip, um…” He scratched his head, clearly searching for an acceptable way to end that sentence.
Sophie quirked an eyebrow at him, trying to hide her smile at his obvious discomfort.
“Yeah, there isn’t really any way for me to recover from that one, huh?”
Sophie laughed. “He backed you into a corner, big guy. Give me your phone. I’ll put the address he sent you into your GPS.”
In the past, when she’d asked her exe
s for their phones, they’d made up excuses or opened their phones to the screen she needed. Rafe, however, handed his phone to Sophie without a moment’s hesitation, telling her the password to unlock it. She quickly plugged in the address and directed him to the apartment complex. Carlos’s hookup lived in a high-rise building in the Galleria area. Within minutes of them pulling up, Rafe’s partner came barreling out of the front door, naked as the day he was born. He wasted no time, jumping into the car quickly.
“I thought you were hiding in the stairwell. How did you see us pull up?” Sophie asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.
Carlos sighed. “The doorman caught me in the stairwell, when he was walking the property, and had me come downstairs to wait. I was hiding in the lobby bathroom, and he knocked when you got here.”
“Only you, man. Only you would get yourself into this predicament.”
“Hey! In my defense she had a really weird name. She yelled it at me when I was running out of her apartment. It was like Italian or something, I don’t know.”
Sophie shook her head. She couldn’t believe this was the guy her best friend was pining over. Sure, Carlos was hilarious, and he’d always been kind to her, but he also seemed determined to fuck every woman in Houston. She must’ve scoffed out loud without realizing it, because Carlos stopped his conversation with Rafe to lean forward and look at her.
“What was that about, shortcake? I sense some judgment here.”
“I just don’t get it—how can you sleep with a different woman every night? Wouldn’t you rather actually date someone?”
Carlos shrugged, his bare shoulders lifting. “If the right girl doesn’t want to be with me, I don’t see the harm in sleeping with a few of the wrong ones.”
Assuming he was talking about Kelsey, Sophie couldn’t keep the snark out of her tone when she replied, “Well maybe the right girl just doesn’t want to catch syphilis from one of the hundreds of girls you’re fucking.”
Instead of getting frustrated or argumentative with her, Carlos sat back in his seat. “I could be celibate and it wouldn’t change a damn thing. Besides,” he grumbled, “it’s not hundreds.”
Sophie took pity on him and changed the subject. For the remainder of their drive to his house, she and Carlos talked about the Astros World Series chances this year. When they pulled up in front of his home, Rafe hopped out of the car and unlocked the front door with the spare key Carlos had apparently given him. When the door was wide open, Carlos leaned forward, pecked Sophie on the cheek, and bolted for the door. She laughed at the sight of his bare ass running up the driveway and into the house.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sophie was avoiding him. Rafe had felt her pulling away on their drive back from Austin three weeks ago. He’d tried to make plans with her when he dropped her off at home after leaving Carlos’s house, but she’d claimed to have plans. Work had been busy as hell and he’d wanted to give her time to work through things on her own, so he’d stayed away. He had continued to text her and still had pie delivered to her house at least once a week, but he hadn’t pushed her to see him. He understood that she was skittish, especially after hearing about her parents’ relationship, but he was done staying away.
He hadn’t slept for shit without her in his arms, and he was sick of jerking off in the shower like a fucking teenager. He also found himself missing her smile, her wry sense of humor, and her aversion to healthy food. After a long day of work, he wanted nothing more than an easy night in with Sophie. When he’d tried to make plans with her earlier today, Sophie had blown him off once again, this time saying she had plans with Kelsey. Naturally, he’d done what he had to, pestered Carlos for Kelsey’s number and enlisted her help. Sophie’s best friend had been more than happy to help him get his foot in the door, so to speak.
Rafe smiled as he walked down the sidewalk toward Sophie’s house. He had parked around the block so that she wouldn’t see his car, not wanting to give her another chance to run for it. The meal he’d purchased hung from his fingertips, the bag swaying gently as he walked. Sophie would be getting home from work in about thirty minutes, and he was going to be at her house with dinner and a movie waiting when she walked in the door.
Kelsey let him in and followed him to the kitchen, peeking in the bags he’d brought. “Oh, Italian food, huh? I did mention that I would accept payment in the form of delicious food, right?”
Rafe slapped Kelsey’s hand when she reached for the baguette peeking out of the top of the takeout bag. Reaching into the bag, he grabbed one of the to-go containers and handed it to her. He’d gotten her fettuccine alfredo, always a safe bet when ordering Italian food.
“Consider yourself paid in full, Kels.”
“Excuse you? I help you break into my best friend’s house, tell you what time she’s coming home from work, and agree to hide in my room for the night, and I don’t even get any damn bread? Rude, Rafe. Fucking rude.”
Rafe sputtered in response, “I fed you, woman!”
“Yeah, Italian food without bread. I feel cheated. Cheated of delicious carbs.”
He sighed and pulled the baguette out of the bag, handing it to Kelsey dejectedly.
“Oh, Rafe. I’m fucking with you. I mean, I do take bread very seriously, but I’m not going to steal my pregnant best friend’s dinner. That’s just asking for it. I tried to steal a grape off of her plate the other day and she looked like she wanted to stab me.”
Before Rafe could respond, he heard the front door of the house opening. Kelsey snagged her food and a bottle of wine from the fridge before running down the hallway toward her room. Sophie had come home earlier than he’d expected and he hadn’t even had time to get the food on plates. He could hear Sophie moving through the entry of the house, kicking off her shoes by the door and putting her purse down on the small table there.
“Kels? Are you home? My feet are fucking killing me. I was thinking we could get pedicures and then come home and eat our weight in chocolate.”
Rafe stepped out of the kitchen and took Sophie in. Shit, he’d missed her. Her long hair was pulled into a knot at the top of her head, and she was wearing a green button-down tucked into a gray pencil skirt. The skirt was high-waisted and showed off the little baby bump she was currently sporting. His heart pounded in his chest at the sight, and he fought the urge to get on his knees and kiss the bump containing his growing baby.
He leaned against the doorway to the kitchen and crossed his arms over his chest. “So those are your exciting plans, huh? You blew me off for a pedicure and chocolate?”
Sophie’s eyes widened before narrowing on Rafe. “Oh I’m going to kill Kelsey. She let you in, didn’t she?”
“Oh yeah, she sold you out for some fettuccine alfredo.”
At the mention of food, Sophie visibly perked up. “You brought food?”
Rafe nodded. “I did. You can only eat it if you’ll hear me out though. I know you’re avoiding me and we have some things to discuss. I gave you three weeks of space; now it’s time for you to let me talk.”
Sophie at least had the decency to look sheepish. “Fine, but this better be some damn good food.”
He couldn’t contain his laughter—of course that was her main concern. If he were completely honest, the upcoming conversation had him more than a little nervous. If all went well, though, he’d make sure to rub her feet tonight. He’d read that swollen feet was common when pregnant, and those sexy heels she wore constantly couldn’t be helping anything.
She passed him and waltzed into the kitchen, wasting no time and pulling the containers of food out of the bag quickly. She inspected them, choosing the pasta he’d purchased with her in mind before grabbing a fork and settling at the table. Rafe grabbed his own food and drink and joined her. Sophie was already eating her meal by the time he sat down, and she groaned in satisfaction, the sound going straight to his dick.
Down boy, you’ll get your turn later.
He tried to take a bite of his
food, but hardly tasted it as he chewed. He needed to say what he’d come to say before he could relax enough to enjoy his meal.
He cleared his throat and launched into the small speech he’d prepared on his way here. “So I know that you’re scared, Sophie. Your dad told me about his relationship with your mom, and I am so sorry that you had to go through that. I need you to know this, though: I don’t want to be with you because you’re pregnant. We could be fantastic co-parents, and if you can honestly say that you have no feelings for me, I’ll accept my lot in your life. I will be here for you and our baby no matter the outcome of this discussion. I just want to make sure that you’re aware of my feelings.
“I didn’t have an easy childhood. When my mother overdosed and I was taken into foster care, I didn’t even know my own name. She had always called me Boy, and my father wasn’t in the picture. The police didn’t find a birth certificate for me in the tiny apartment we shared, and the social worker assigned to my case was unable to locate my birth records. I actually chose my own name, Raphael, after my favorite Ninja Turtle. I chose my last name because the police officer who found me was named Pierce Johnson. I’ve never had a family; it has always been just me. Nobody knows that story. I haven’t even told Carlos.”
Sophie had put her fork down, and her eyes swam with tears. Thankfully, there was no pity in her gaze, only sad understanding. “Oh, Rafe.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine going through that.”
“I won’t lie and say it was easy, it wasn’t. I’m telling you this so that you understand how important our baby is to me. Honestly, us dating could really make this complicated. I can’t predict the future, and I don’t know how this will work out for us. You need to know first and foremost, though, that I will never, never abandon you or our child like your mother did. I also won’t put you through a relationship that you don’t want just because we have a child together.
