For Pete's Sake: An Enemies to Lovers Marriage of Convenience Standalone Romance Novel (Tobin Tribe Book 1)

by Caitlyn Coakley

  They deserved each other.

  Between Grandpa Kerrigan’s passion for Irene and his disdain for his wife, a clear picture of the old man’s character—or lack thereof—formed in Ethan’s mind. He felt sorry for Grandma Carolyn. Had she been that much of a shrew, or had her husband’s infidelity turned her into one?

  Irene had destroyed Stephanie’s world all because Irene had wanted to sleep in Jamison Kerrigan’s bed.

  It was painfully obvious from the letters that the Kerrigan-Jordan union had been based on mutual need, not love. But, at the very least, a man owed his wife discretion. Something the old man clearly hadn’t understood or cared about.

  Ethan shifted slightly to stretch his cramping thigh muscle, careful not to disturb the slumbering Stephanie whose head rested peacefully in his lap. Finally. With the last of her anger and frustration spent, she had all but collapsed into a coma-like sleep and hadn’t moved for nearly an hour.

  The sodden remnants of an entire box of tissues lay scattered around him where they’d fallen. If the Phillies’ bullpen could figure out how to hurl a fastball the way she’d launched a soggy tissue, they might have a shot at the World Series this year. A guy could dream.

  He grimaced as he tunneled his fingers through her silky curls to cradle her head in his hands. Incrementally, he lifted her enough to wriggle free, wedging a pillow under her head.

  Pressure squeezed his heart. She was emotionally drained, and he wasn’t quite sure how to refill her reservoir. She had curled into herself the way she always did when she slept. The pressure built. She was protecting herself from something. He would find out what and fix it for her. He would fix everything.

  He eyed the last Bankers Box at his feet. Hopefully, it would contain the documentation to back up the contents of the letters: both Irene’s and the old man’s. As usual, the devil was going to be in the details, but grappling with devilish details was his specialty.

  Ethan reached for his phone to read the text Brian had sent during Stephanie’s meltdown. Irene’s home address. He reread the address. Nice part of town. Much nicer than the woman should have been able to afford on her salary.

  Grandpa Jamison had been generous, building an impressive portfolio for his lover that put her net worth well north of a million dollars. But it hadn’t been enough for her.

  Irene Johnson had wanted it all.

  And she’d come damned close to getting it.

  He settled himself cross-legged on the floor and delved into the last box, skimming the contents of each envelope before deciding where they fit in the ever-growing arc in front of him. The woman had been pure evil and crazy to boot. How she’d managed to function, let alone hide her true face, was nothing short of amazing.

  The deeper he got into the box, the angrier he became. How in the hell was he going to break all of this to Stephanie? Yet, how could he justify keeping it from her? His lady was tough, she could take it. He hoped. But she’d been through so much already, what if this was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back?

  And what about the baby? How would this extra stress affect the precious, innocent life that might be growing within her? Good God, how could he be so smitten with the baby he wasn’t sure existed? A month ago, he would have scoffed at the idea, rejected it without a second thought. Along with the woman he now couldn’t live without.

  If only he could pull her inside of him to shield her, to comfort her while she absorbed his knowledge through osmosis. Did it make him a coward that he didn’t want to say the words that would change her world forever? Would she blame the messenger?

  That’s what he was afraid of. More than afraid. But what choice did he have? Damn it, he was so sick of that question. He didn’t have a choice. He had never had a choice. And like all of the other times, he’d straighten his spine, square his shoulders, and marshal on.

  He took the last envelope out of the box. It was thicker than the others; its red string not quite long enough to wrap around the cardboard buttons intended to hold the flap of the envelope closed. Ethan withdrew a thick stack of paper covered in Irene’s perfect Palmer penmanship; script that hadn’t been taught since Eisenhower was president. The pleasant ocean-blue symbols from an old-fashioned fountain pen flowed across the page, their beauty an obscene contrast to the actual words they represented. This was nothing short of a manifesto, a declaration of war on Jamison Kerrigan, Jr., and later Stephanie. The people she believed had stolen her daughter’s birthright; the people she would destroy to claim that birthright for her grandson.

  The paper felt deceptively smooth in his hands. Its lightweight and glossy surface seemed surreal as Irene’s words grew uglier and more violent.

  He nearly jumped out of his skin when hands gently massaged his shoulders. Damn, it was like the old bat was reaching out from the paper to strangle him. He wouldn’t have put it past her.

  “Easy, big guy. It’s only me. Have you found anything interesting?”

  Setting the papers aside, he stood to pull Stephanie into his arms. “Interesting isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”

  His lips sought hers for a blistering kiss. He wanted one last taste of her ignorant passion before he had to destroy her world. One last blast of her heat to warm him before she used that heat to roast him. One last moment of fantasy before reality hit.

  He deepened the kiss, coaxing her tongue to dance with his. It was so tempting to kiss her until they both passed out from lack of oxygen, but that would only prolong the inevitable. He broke the kiss, tilting her chin to meet his gaze. “This isn’t going to be easy for either of us. We might as well get comfortable.”

  CHAPTER 54

  STEPHANIE’S HEART STUTTERED. Her knees buckled as he led her back to the couch. She settled into the plush softness, turning to face him, their knees touching. She braced herself as he reached out to take her hands in his. “Just say it, like ripping off a bandage. Hard and brutal.”

  He took a deep breath and held it for what seemed like forever before blowing it out. “Okay.” He squeezed her hands gently. “Irene Johnson gave birth to Kerry Anne Johnson. Your grandfather is listed as Kerry Anne’s father on her birth certificate. Kerry was short for Kerrigan, and her initials are your grandfather’s initials backward. Irene thought that was so clever. Kerry Anne married Joshua Smith and gave birth to Smitty.”

  “Except for the reversed initials, this isn’t new information. Tell me more.”

  “Your grandfather truly loved Irene but divorcing your grandmother was out of the question. I could never understand the old-school idea that divorce was a huge sin, but adultery was okay. But then your grandmother died.”

  Stephanie nodded. “Yes, she died a few months before he did. I was only a baby at the time. Everyone said he died of a broken heart.”

  Ethan snorted. “I doubt the old man had a heart. At least where your grandmother was concerned. Jamison and Irene planned to marry as soon as it was decent. Together, they drafted a will that basically cut your father out and left everything to Kerry Anne. There’s a handwritten draft among the papers. It’s called a holographic will, and it would have been valid if two people had witnessed him signing it, but they never got that far. Irene notarized it herself and tried to file it, but her lawyer told her it wasn’t going to fly. Fourteen other lawyers told her the same thing.”

  Her brain struggled to grasp Ethan’s simple words. Was she hearing him right? “So she set Plan B in motion and waited thirty years for her revenge? That’s insane.”

  “Insane is one way to put it, but she might have had a little push over the line. Kerry Anne tried to leave her abusive husband, but he tracked her down. He shot her, then turned the gun on himself. Thankfully, Smitty was at a friend’s house when it happened. Irene sent Smitty away to boarding school and waited until he was old enough to help her with her plan to marry you and claim the company. She groomed him to be your idea of the perfect man. Then it gets weird.”

  “Then it gets weird?”


  “Irene admits in her diary that she killed your parents. She waited until they showed up one day driving the vintage Thunderbird. It didn’t have seatbelts, let alone airbags, or any other safety features. She spiked your father’s water bottle with Rohypnol then watched him climb behind the wheel and head out. Thirty minutes later, he drove straight into a concrete abutment at seventy-five miles an hour.”

  Her parents had been murdered. A numb haze settled over her. Ethan continued to talk, but he might as well have been speaking Swahili through a gas mask for as much sense as he made. She focused on his lips, trying to read the words her ears refused to hear. The surreal blend of his moving lips and muffled words short-circuited her brain.

  Flashes of her past assaulted her. Mounds of festive packages heaped under the enormous Christmas tree that had always stood in the corner of the room where they sat. Costumed revelers drifting through the house wishing her the happiest of birthdays as her father led a rousing, if not inebriated, version of happy birthday. The St. Patrick’s Day parties that had little to do with honoring Ireland’s patron saint. Her mother’s glistening eyes as she had kissed Stephanie’s cheek before BJ escorted her to her seat of honor in the front pew. Her father’s sniffles as they’d walked down the aisle.

  A soft kiss brushed her forehead like the one her father had gifted her with before he’d left her at the altar and gone to join her mother. For a moment, Jamie Kerrigan lived again. But it was Ethan’s lips on her: Ethan’s arms pulling her into an embrace. With her ear plastered against his chest, she felt his words rumble into her more than she heard them.

  “Baby, breathe for me. We don’t have to do this all tonight. We can take a break.”

  Take a break? Her eyes slammed shut. If Ethan wanted to take a break, that must mean... “There’s more?”

  Ethan tightened his hold. God, how she wanted to melt into him like an ostrich burying its head in the sand. Anything to make this torture stop.

  “I wish I could say no, but that would be a lie, and I’ve promised I’ll never lie to you,” Ethan reminded her. “But there is no sin in letting this rest. You don’t have to handle all of this right now. Let me take you to bed and give you one of my special massages. Please, Stephanie, let me spare you this for a few more hours.”

  What could be so awful that Ethan didn’t want to tell her? “No, tell me. I’ll never sleep with a secret between us.”

  Ethan shook his head. “Baby, you might not sleep with this between us.”

  “Tell me,” she demanded.

  He ran his fingers through her hair. “The one thing that always bothered me was why Irene had all of this information in her office. It should have been stored more securely. It turns out she had relocated everything there before she left on her cruise. They were going to make their big move after she got back, and she wanted easy access to everything.”

  “By the time Irene got back, Smitty and I would have been married more than a year. He would have been able to file for divorce and enforce our prenup. That was the big plan, right?”

  Ethan ran his hand down her back and slowly pulled it back up to cup her shoulder. “Baby, I wish you were right. It’s much worse than that. I never took the time to read the police report on Smitty’s accident. It didn’t seem important until I read Irene’s diary. But when I checked the cross streets, I realized I knew exactly where he had died because I’d been in a foster home down the block. Other than looking for hookers, there is only one reason an affluent white man visits that neighborhood, and it isn’t to try a trendy new bistro.”

  Stephanie knit her brows. She could almost feel the frustration pouring out of her, desperate for him to get to the point. She wanted to scream, but all she could do was whimper. She pulled back to search his face, pain radiating from those beautiful crazy eyes. “Please, just tell me.”

  He let out a long sigh. “Baby, Smitty was there to buy drugs. Since the police didn’t find any in his car, he must not have had the chance to make the buy before he died. But Irene was so pleased with how easy it had been to get away with murdering your parents, she decided half of the company wasn’t good enough anymore. She wanted it all.”

  Was he speaking Swahili again? “I... I don’t understand.”

  “Stephanie, Smitty was going to buy more Rohypnol. While Irene was on her cruise, Smitty was going to spike your drink and slip you into the pool to drown. They were going to kill you too.”

  Irene had wanted her dead? Why? None of this had been her fault. She hadn’t been the one to commit adultery and get pregnant by a married man who refused to leave his wife for her.

  But Irene didn’t care.

  The pall of death surrounded Stephanie, pressing in from all sides. Her mother. Her father. And the people responsible for their deaths were dead, putting them beyond her reach. Freeing them from the punishment they deserved for destroying her life.

  Life. She needed life. “I have to pee.”

  Ethan jerked away, searching her face. “Not the first thing I expected you to say. Baby, let me hold you for a little while. The panic will fade.”

  She pushed him away as she stood. “No! You don’t understand. I need to know. Right now. If I’m pregnant. Where are the tests you bought?”

  He stood to face her; his smile nearly shattered his face. She let its warmth rush over her, pushing away death’s cold blanket.

  “They’re in our bathroom. I’ve been nearly out of my mind waiting for this. Let’s do it. Together. Right now.”

  She took the hand he held out and followed him up the stairs.

  CHAPTER 55

  “WHATEVER MADE YOU THINK of buying an eyedropper?” Stephanie asked as she filled it from the red plastic cup that held her urine.

  “The clerk suggested it when I laid all those pregnancy tests on the counter. She said there was no way you’d be able to take all the tests in one day without it.”

  “Smart lady.”

  “Yeah, but then I had to listen to how horrible her boss was and that she wanted to sue him. I gave her my card; Nicole can deal with her.”

  Stephanie squeezed the rubber bulb with a little too much force, sending urine cascading over the side of the test wand balanced on top of a second red cup. “Sorry, this one’s a little moist,” she said as she handed it to him.

  He gingerly grasped the wand by the edges. “If I can’t handle a little moisture, I’m not ready for a baby. You know, this is kinda kinky,” Ethan said as he set the wand on the bathroom counter next to the others. “Unless you count the time Pete showered me during a diaper change, I’ve never watched anyone pee before. It’s the most intimate thing we’ve ever done.” And it should have grossed him out, but, instead, it humbled him to think that she trusted him enough to invite him into her most private world.

  “You only heard me; you didn’t get to watch. But if you’re into that...”

  Her tense laughter tugged at his heart. So she was as nervous about this as he was. Sure, pregnancy had been the whole point of their relationship. At first. But when the possible became probable, second thoughts were only natural, right?

  He opened the box and handed her the contents. “This is the only one left. It claims to be able to pinpoint the conception date with ninety-three percent accuracy. We should have done this one first.” He handed her the tester and laser-focused on her movements, trying not to notice the parade of previous tests that lined the bathroom counter like troops waiting for inspection. The first one still had a minute or two before the results would show, but in case one decided to bloom early, he didn’t want to know until they were standing together.

  “I’ve done my part,” she said as she handed him the last wand.

  He took it from her and placed it with the others before he stepped aside to let her wash her hands.

  Their eyes met in the mirror. “Do you want to be in the delivery room?” she asked.

  He washed his own hands before folding his arms around her and caressed her stomach. “T
hey won’t be able to keep me out. I’ll sign whatever they put in front of me to make sure I’m there with you.”

  Her brows knit. “Why would you have to sign anything?”

  “A normal husband wouldn’t have to sign a legally binding promise not to sue. But I’m not a normal husband. I had to step in at the last minute when Smitty didn’t show up for Pete’s delivery. Once the doctor figured out who was behind the mask, he made me catch Pete, but not before he made me promise not to litigate.”

  “You delivered Pete?”

  He grimaced. “There are certain parts of his sister a man shouldn’t see, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I’ve never had much of a choice in anything.”

  She turned to him and cradled his face in her hands. “And this whole thing wasn’t your choice, either, was it?”

  Was it? Yes, he’d had a choice between two bad options: lose Pete or marry a stranger. But, technically, it had been a choice.

  “I could have walked away, leaving Pete in who knows what kind of hell, but I couldn’t do that. At the time, I chose what I considered to be the lesser of two evils, and it turned out to be the best decision I’ve ever made. I love you. I regret nothing.”

  No, he didn’t regret the decision that had brought him to this point, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared out of his mind at the prospect of being a father. Being an uncle was one thing, but this, well, this was a whole different ballgame.

  “Are you ready to look?” he asked.

  Her eyes glowed like a child waiting for her turn on Santa’s lap. “On three?”

  He nodded.

  “One, two, oh God...” she gulped. “Three!”

  They turned in unison. Double pink lines, blue plusses, and bold words announcing “pregnant” lined the bathroom counter. There was no doubt. She was pregnant. They were pregnant.

  She gasped. “This is like every Christmas, every birthday, my high school and college graduations, first communion, and wedding gifts, showers included, all rolled into one giant package adorned with pink and blue ribbons. I have my company, a baby, and a husband any woman in the world would envy.”