Caught in Us (Caught Series Book 4)

by Kacey Shea

  “Hi!” Julia steps forward with a smile. “It’s so nice to meet you!” She extends her hand, but Paws lets loose a threatening hiss. She yanks her hand back, her eyes wide as she glances at everyone else who appear just as taken aback. “He never does that!” She laughs, but there’s nervous disbelief in the sound.

  Chase doesn’t say a word, his gaze averting both her and my stares.

  “Only to Cam, but that’s understandable,” Jill agrees, shaking her head with a laugh. “Alicia, you must bring out the guard cat in him.”

  I smile, laughing along, but mentally I give Paws a high five. Is it petty? Absolutely.

  “Maybe you should get him on payroll.” Cam chuckles.

  “I’m a lawyer,” Julia explains.

  “But not the evil kind.” Jill flips her hair over one shoulder. “She advocates for children’s rights.”

  Oh. Great. She’s basically a saint.

  “Shoot.” Julia glances at her watch. “I’ve got to get back if I’m gonna make my next client visit. Walk me out?” she asks Chase, then turns to the rest of us. “It was nice meeting you, Alicia. Hopefully, we can talk more at the wedding. Jill, give me a call if you need anything. I’ll be off all day tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Julia.”

  “Bye!” Cam waves.

  I murmur my own good-bye, watching Chase closely.

  He still won’t look at me. Why? Is he embarrassed to introduce me to his new girlfriend? Does she know about our past? His muscles flex as he holds the door open for her to pass. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he says more to himself, then follows her out the door while I’m stuck holding his cat and a host of emotions I didn’t expect when I left the house today.

  16

  Chase

  After lunch, we load up my truck with more wedding crap and head back to Alicia’s parents’. The drive is less than twenty minutes, and I spend most of it mustering the courage to ask her about Matthew. It’s not that I’m scared exactly. It’s more that I don’t know how to broach the subject. Hey, so, by any chance did we make a baby? just doesn’t seem like the way to go.

  “Julia seems nice,” Alicia says, breaking the silence as we turn onto her parents’ private drive. I think she means it as a compliment, but it’s hard to tell with the cold tone of her words.

  “Yeah.” I sneak a glance to find her shoulders tense. “Julia’s great.” Alicia won’t meet my gaze and she picks at the polish on her nails, almost as though she’s uncomfortable. Frustrating, because I swear we were starting to find that familiar ease in conversation again. No, we definitely were. At least until Julia stopped in at Cam and Jill’s.

  Wait.

  Could Alicia be jealous?

  The possibility pleases me more than it should. Guilt quickly douses any temporary joy gained, because this is unfair to Julia. The thoughts and feelings Alicia’s stirred up inside me go beyond friendship. I can’t tell if it’s nostalgia or something more. Either way, the only woman who should be taking up real estate in my head right now is my girlfriend. My beautiful, smart, compassionate, loving, doesn’t-know-her-boyfriend-has-a-child-with-someone-else girlfriend. Fuck.

  I’m running out of time. I need answers. I need her to confirm the truth. “What about you?” I ask.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah.” I clear my throat. “You and this Simon guy seem pretty serious.” They must be for him to come on this trip with her. God, does he know he’s raising someone else’s child? What if he thinks Matthew’s his? The possibility strikes a match of fury inside my chest.

  She unbuckles her seat belt as I pull to a stop. Turning in her seat to face me, she narrows her stare. “Why do you say his name like that?”

  “Like what?” I cut the engine.

  “Like it tastes bitter.” She laughs.

  Because it does. Her amusement and accurate observation irritate me. I should take a deep breath, count down from ten, and ask her about Matthew. Instead, I blurt out the first thing that came to my mind when I met Simon yesterday. “He’s not right for you.”

  “Oh?” Her eyebrows shoot high. “Is that so?” She scoffs. “You’d know that how, exactly?”

  “I can just tell.”

  Her brows rise. “By the hour you spent yesterday glaring at him from across the room?”

  I didn’t glare. Fuck. I tried not to anyway. “You deserve better.”

  Her spine straightens, a flash of emotion I can’t read playing across her beautiful face. “Simon’s a very good friend. We aren’t together.” She shakes her head. “And he’s the one who deserves better, but he loves Matthew.” She pauses, waiting for my gaze to meet hers. “I pay him to take care of Matthew when I’m working.”

  That annoys me even more. How the fuck does this guy—a fucking stranger to me—get time with my son? “So, he’s what? Your manny?”

  Alicia rolls her eyes. “He and I both prefer the term childcare provider.”

  “And he’s qualified how, exactly? Where did you even find him?”

  “He’s a former student of mine.” Her jaw ticks, the angry draw of her brow back. “Has his undergrad in early childhood development and is saving while he applies to graduate programs. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  None of my business! “How old is Matthew, exactly?”

  She glances down at her hands. “He’s two.”

  I wait. The silence stretches as I mentally beg for her to come clean. Does she take me for a fool? Or the kind of man who won’t acknowledge his own son?

  She must know what I’m getting at.

  Only, she doesn’t say a damn word.

  “Alicia.” I practically bite out the words, “When’s his birthday?”

  Her gaze snaps up to mine, fire in her gaze. “Just say it.”

  Oh, so she doesn’t want to play games. I’ll get straight to the fucking point, then. “Did you really leave the country pregnant, with my child, and keep him from me?”

  Her sharp inhale fills the cab. It cuts like a slice through my heart. Her jaw works back and forth, her head shaking as if I’m the asshole. “How dare you!” Her tone is sharp and low. “You know nothing about the last three years or what I’ve been through.”

  “Because you cut me out!” I throw my hands in the air. “Jesus, Alicia! You never answered my calls or texts. You moved across a fucking ocean, for God’s sake! You just left. No good-bye. No conversation. Nothing.”

  She has the decency to appear rattled. “I left you a letter.”

  “A letter.” A wry, humorless chuckle leaves my lips. “Oh, yes! How could I forget?”

  “You’re a real piece of work. I see some things never change.” She jerks the truck door open, jumps out, and turns to leave me with one last insult. “And you’re still an ass.” She slams the door and stomps toward the garage keypad, jamming her fingers against the numbers as if they’ve personally offended her.

  “And you’re still stubborn as hell,” I grumble, yanking my door open. I should calm down. Take a moment to center my thoughts. But the energy pulsing through my veins and the air rushing in my ears shoves away all good sense. Who the hell does she think she is, coming back into my life unannounced? Twisting everything upside down!

  Climbing from the truck cab, I ignore the boxes and crates of wedding supplies in the back and stomp over to where she stands, arms crossed and foot tapping as the garage door lifts.

  “Hey! We’re not done yet.” Not with this conversation. Not by a long shot. I don’t know what comes over me. Or why she looks so damn good when she’s this mad. But I close the space between us with quick strides, crowding her personal space.

  She spins at my approach, fury in her eyes. Only she must not expect me to stand so close and the gasp that escapes her parted lips sounds exactly like the sounds she used to make when we made love. “I’m not doing this right now,” she threatens, taking a step back. Her spine hits the wall. Her gaze drops to my lips.

  Fuck.

  “Alicia,” I pra
ctically growl.

  “What do you want from me?” The question leaves her lips a whisper. Taunting. Tempting. Pulling me into her universe. I can’t fight it, but really, I don’t even try. When it comes to her, I’m both lost and found.

  My lips crash to hers, swallowing her next gasp. She tastes good. Her lips just as I remember. The anger inside my chest is still there, but with every brush of my lips it morphs and fades to a different feeling. Passion. Heat. Desire. My hands grip her waist, my fingers digging into her flesh through the fabric of her jeans. I press her harder against the wall, capturing her moans and savoring this moment.

  Because I know it won’t last.

  She’s going to shove me away.

  She’ll run again. She always will. Only this time I’m prepared for the rejection.

  Fuck. What the hell am I doing? I have a girlfriend. My fingers release her as if they’ve been burned and I stumble back, my chest heaving with each inhalation.

  “Chase . . .” Alicia lifts her hand to her lips, her eyes wide.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have . . .” I shake my head, shame filling my chest with the realization of what I just did. I’m not a cheater. I’m not that man. Not anymore. I’ve changed. Fuck, I’ve spent the last three years committed to deep and meaningful transformation. Yet one afternoon with Alicia and I throw it all away.

  “Why?” she asks, hurt in her big brown eyes.

  “Why?” I parrot, unable to grasp what she means.

  “Why do you care who Matthew’s father is?” she asks softly.

  “I think I deserve to know if I have a son in the world.” My heart cracks a little that I even have to explain this. That she must view me unworthy of the role. And maybe she’s right. But damn, I think I deserve a chance. “I’d do right by him. And you.”

  Pain flashes in her gaze before it darts away. “I thought I could do this. See you again.” She blinks as if she’s holding back tears, and pushes past me. “But I can’t.” She marches toward the truck.

  “Alicia, wait!” I follow her back to the truck.

  She opens the passenger door, grabbing her purse from the front seat. Before she can shut the door, I’m there caging her in with my body. Only this time I won’t be distracted by her mouth.

  “Chase. Move.” A frustrated exhale leaves her lips as she brings her hard gaze to mine.

  “He’s mine, isn’t he?” I know he is. Damn it. But I need to hear it from her.

  17

  Alicia

  I cross my arms over my chest, my chin lifting with challenge. “And why do you automatically assume he’s yours?” I’m being a brat. I know so. But it doesn’t stop my defensiveness from taking over.

  “Because,” Chase practically growls, his gaze flashing with something I can’t quite read. He leans in, one arm braced above my head as his body draws dangerously close.

  I hold my breath, my body stilling. The anticipation for his lips on mine has me frozen in place. I want him to kiss me again. Even though it’s a horrible idea. Even though we shouldn’t.

  But Chase doesn’t reach for me. He slides past my body and reaches into the cab. His fingers slide along the glove compartment, releasing the latch. He heaves out a sigh, taking something out and then stepping back before handing it to me. “Here.”

  “What’s this?” I ask, but my question is answered without explanation. Gripped in my fingers is a stack of photographs.

  My heart stops.

  Time stands still.

  These are of Chase, they have to be, because the resemblance to Matthew is uncanny. They might as well be twins. “Oh, Chase.”

  “That’s how I knew.” His jaw is tense, his gaze unreadable as he holds my stare.

  “He looks just like you.” The admission flies from my mouth as I flip through these captured moments of my child’s father.

  “Keep them.”

  I lift my gaze from the photos. The sincerity of his offer catches me by surprise. “You don’t want them back?”

  His lips press together, his face somber. “Matthew should have them.”

  “Chase. I . . .” I’m at a loss. How do I make him understand? Why I left. Why I stayed away.

  “Were you even going to tell me?” The hurt in his gaze cuts straight through my soul. He takes another step back, almost as if he can’t stand to be near me. “Jesus, Alicia. Why now? Why disappear if you weren’t going to stay away? Or is this part of your plan? Come back here. Fuck with my emotions. Fuck up my life.” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back in frustration. “Don’t you think our son deserves to know his father?”

  His words hit like an arrow in a space where I’m most insecure. That I’m not enough for my son. That I made the wrong choice when I decided to raise him alone. “No. That’s not it.” I shake my head.

  “No? So, what, then? It was easier to keep me in the dark? Jill and Callie too? That’s why you cut them out, isn’t it? God forbid your career goals be inconvenienced by having to tell everyone you were pregnant with our child?”

  How dare he? I’m not the bad guy here. Not when I’ve given up everything to keep our son safe. His patronizing tone enflames a rage inside my chest.

  I stomp forward, getting in his personal space as my chest heaves with unsteady breath. “Look, I didn’t come back for you. Okay? I don’t want anything from you. I don’t need you. We’re doing just fine on our own. And I thought— You know what?” I throw my hands in the air and stop myself from going off. “No. I don’t have to explain myself. I don’t owe you anything. The code for the garage is seven-one-five-three. Do the rest yourself. I’m done.”

  “Mama!” My son’s squeal of excitement deflates my outrage. So does the flash of pain that crosses Chase’s face.

  I turn around, grab my bag from the truck and shove the photos inside as I power walk to meet Matthew as he dashes across the lawn. Simon follows him with long strides. I don’t look back over my shoulder to see if Chase is watching. Part of me expects he is but I can’t deal with his judgment. Even if it’s deserved.

  Matthew’s little body races forward, closing the distance and falling into my arms when I drop to my knees.

  “Matthew! Hey, baby.” I brush back the soft wavy curls from his forehead. “Did you have a good day?”

  “Sorry, I tried to hold him back,” Simon glances over my shoulder toward the garage, his brows narrowing with concern. Chase is no doubt staring at us, but I refuse to check. “Once Matty saw you through the window it was no use.”

  “It’s fine. I’m done for the day,” I say to Simon, then pepper kisses over my son’s cheeks. “You didn’t take a very long nap.”

  Matthew giggles and squirms, his laughter loosening some of the tension in my body. This boy. He’s magic that way. Gives me purpose and unconditional love. Settles my worries. He’s my reason, every single day.

  “Go dig!” He wriggles from my hold and takes my hand, pulling me back toward the house. “Momma dig!” He grows impatient, tugging on my arm a few times as I push to my full height. He lets go of my hand, racing across the lawn, toward the planters where we were playing this morning.

  “He really loves to play in the dirt.” I laugh, standing and opening my mouth to ask Simon a question. Only, the concern in his hard stare directed over my shoulder makes me forget what I was going to say.

  “Alicia.” Chase clears his throat. “Can we talk? Please.”

  I can’t bring myself to see the judgment in his eyes, so I don’t lift my gaze when I glance over my shoulder. “I’m not doing this right now.”

  “Then, when?” His demand is harsh. Angry. Cold. He has every right to those feelings, but I don’t have the strength to take them on. Not when I’m desperately trying to reconcile the conflict rattling my own heart.

  With a deep sigh I give him the only answer I can. “When you remember I’m not the enemy here.” My gaze lifts to Matthew and with one foot in front of the other I march toward my son, praying Chase doesn’t follo
w.

  Simon jogs to my side, glancing back over his shoulder several times before whispering, “You told him.”

  “He sort of figured it out on his own.”

  “Bollocks,” Simon swears, his brow knit with concern as he keeps up with my hurried pace. “How’d it go, then?”

  “Fine.” But fine doesn’t even come close to describing my day with Chase. Frustrating. Confusing. Infuriating—that would be more accurate.

  Simon knocks his shoulder against mine, his lips pulling up with the trace of a smile. “You’re lying.”

  I roll my eyes. “And you’re annoying.”

  A burst of laughter shakes his chest. “He got under your skin.”

  Amongst other things.

  We reach the end of the patio, and Matthew climbs over the low edge of the built-in planters and retrieves the spade from this morning. I take a seat on one of the patio chairs, my back to where Chase is parked, and pick at my nail polish.

  Simon drags a chair close to mine and takes a seat. We watch Matty play in silence for what feels like hours, but is more likely a matter of minutes. My chest aches. I can’t breathe comfortably. Not until the distant rumble of Chase’s truck engine breaks the silence do I finally unwind. The fading crunch of gravel as he drives away provides temporary relief.

  “That bad, huh?” Simon asks.

  “I didn’t think it would be like this,” I admit, a deep sadness coming over me.

  “Like what?”

  “I didn’t expect him to be sober.” I close my eyes so tears won’t leak from the corners and exhale slowly. “I thought time would change me.”

  “You still have feelings for him.” Simon’s eyes widen.

  “How could I not?” I gesture to where my son plays, blissfully ignorant of the turmoil that surrounds us.