Surface (Guarding Her Book 1)

by Anna Brooks

Fuck this shit.

  I knew that we’d have our challenges, but I didn’t think she’d be such a prima donna about telling her fuckin’ dad. It’s ridiculous. It’s absolute bullshit, and I’m so done right now it’s not even funny.

  I don’t even respond to her text, and instead, I walk out of my apartment and across the street to the bar. After grabbing a beer, I head to the room with a pool table and lose myself in a few games.

  “You look like you could use a partner.”

  I finish my second beer and set it down on the table, then chalk my cue. “Nah. I’m good.” Ignoring the other person’s presence, I drop the chalk on a table.

  “You can’t even look at your own father.”

  The pool stick in my hand would splinter easy. If I hit him in his head in just the right spot, I bet it’d only take one try, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he has any power over me. I look him dead in the eyes. “What do you want?”

  “Haven’t seen you in almost two years.”

  “I know.”

  “You won’t answer my calls.”

  “Everything I’ve already said to you is all I’ll ever have to say.”

  He puts his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. I can’t believe I used to admire this man. I wish I didn’t look so much like him either. Pisses me off every time I look in the fuckin’ mirror and see him staring back at me. Thank God I got my mom’s eyes at least.

  “I made a mistake, son.”

  As I walk the four feet to get nose to nose with him, I toss the stick on the green felt. “I am not your son. Not anymore. You lost the right to call me that when you fucked another woman and got her pregnant while my mother was fucking dying!”

  His eyes close and shame washes over him. Good. He should be ashamed. “I know.” His voice has lost the tenacity it carried moments ago. “I know.”

  “If you know, then why are you here?”

  “Because I want to make it right. I want to have my son back in my life. Don’t you think I realize how fucked up the entire situation was? Jesus, Royce.” He runs his hand over the top of his head. “I know, all right. But there are things you don’t know. Nobody is perfect, and I—”

  “It’s not a matter of being perfect; it’s a matter of being a decent human being. It’s staying faithful in sickness and in health. It’s showing your seventeen-year-old son that he’s more important, that his mother is more important than some fuckin’ whore.” At the insult, his jaw clenches. He married the bitch. “It’s being there for your family when one of them was about to die.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Sometimes, sorry isn’t enough.” I shoulder past him, but he grabs my bicep.

  “What will be enough?”

  I freeze but don’t turn to look at him. “Get your motherfuckin’ hand off me.”

  He immediately releases me, and I waste no time in getting away from the devil. He’s got some balls, asking for forgiveness. He knew she was dying, yet he couldn’t wait until she stopped breathing to go fuck some slut.

  And I had to sit there in the same hospital room as him while we watched my mother’s health fade day after day after day until nothing was left. I had to pretend not to want to strangle the bastard in front of her so she’d die thinking we were the perfect happy family.

  I hate pretending. Absolutely loathe pretending. What I’m doing right now with Paisley is bringing up shit that I haven’t thought about in a long time. Of course, seeing my dad for the first time in years doesn’t help either.

  I don’t know a lot about why things happen or any of that philosophical stuff, but I do know that Paisley was put on this earth to be mine. I just don’t know any more if I was meant to be hers.

  Paisley

  “Nonononono.” I drop the stick on the ground and fall against the wall. My back hits the towel rack, and I wince. “Oh, my God. No. Oh, my God.”

  I can’t be pregnant.

  Pregnant!

  My body lurches, and I heave into the toilet. Nothing remains to come out, yet I try to expel the acid in my stomach. I want kids. A family. Always have but I didn’t want it this fast. I wanted it with Royce, and now I’m gonna have it, and I don’t know how I feel.

  We never talked about this. I mean, why would we. We’ve barely seen each other the past couple of months, and before that, it was only a few weeks. I don’t know if he wants kids.

  What if he doesn’t? I’ll lose him but be stuck with a lifetime reminder that I had days, days, in my life of the heaven that he offered me.

  But what if he does want it?

  I’m terrified, excited, worried… I almost don’t believe it.

  “Paisley, are you okay?” Polly knocks on the bathroom door attached to my bedroom. “Breakfast has been ready for almost a half an hour.”

  Reaching up, I flush the toilet and clear my throat. “I’m coming.”

  I listen for her to walk away, and once her footsteps fade into silence, I quickly grab the pregnancy tests and throw them back in the box, then brush my teeth. I crush the box as much as I can and stuff it in my purse. I’ve been throwing up every morning for almost three weeks.

  I ignored it at first.

  Refusing to believe it could be true, I bought some tests and have been carrying them around in my purse, their presence mocking me. I was in denial, but I knew it all along. Shit, shit.

  Hitching the bag over my shoulder, I head downstairs, gripping the railing with white knuckles to steady my unstable legs. When I reach the last step, I take a calming breath before I walk into the kitchen.

  The instant the bacon penetrates my nostrils, I gag. Any meat product has made me want to hurl lately. Polly’s back is to me, so luckily, she doesn’t see. “I’ve gotta go, running late.” I turn my back to her and rush out of the house. When I get to the porch, I lean against the door, sucking in gulps of air as I pray for my stomach to stop churning.

  I need to talk to Royce. I have to tell him. He asked for me to be at his place last night, but I was freaked. I sat up all night and stared at the box of tests on my dresser. Of course, I would have much rather been with him. I’d have much rather been with him the entire time we were back here.

  And if I hadn’t overheard Erik’s conversation, I would have.

  “I don’t like it, Polls, and I don’t like it even more because I’m the one who fucked up, thinking I could trust him. I saw the way he looked at her at the hospital and then again today, and if he touched one fuckin’ hair on my daughter’s head, I’m going to rip his nuts off and shove them down his throat. He knows she’s off limits, and I swear to Christ, I will make his life a living hell if he crossed that line. Royce was sent out there to do a job. If I find out he did any differently, he will no longer have a job with me, and I’ll spread that shit far and wide so the only person who will hire him will be his father.”

  That was the day we got back in town. I don’t know what Royce did, but Erik saw something he didn’t like. I don’t want Royce to get hurt… so yeah, I’m trying to avoid him because I don’t know what else to do to make it better. I don’t know how to handle this.

  I barely can figure out what to do with my future, now I have a baby to think about. I was supposed to go back for another semester of college, but I never enrolled again. I fulfilled my promise and lived in New York, but I don’t want to go back. I was planning on just getting more hours at Ace and then I’d figure things out later, which everyone else is cool with.

  If I tell Royce how Erik exploded, his defenses will go up, and I just know he and Erik will come to blows with each other… and I don’t want that. I don’t want the two guys who mean the most to me to hate each other.

  But now… God, now I’m fucking pregnant, and the decision’s been made for me.

  “Shit, shit, shit.” The ride back to his apartment is long. I hit every red light and then get stuck by a bridge and a train.

  Just when I get to his door, it opens, and a woman steps out. Ta
ll, long black hair in a ponytail and super thin. “Oh”—she laughs—“you scared me.”

  I can’t reply. I can’t think. I can’t fucking breathe.

  She looks at me like I’m crazy and pulls the door but leaves it cracked open. “Are you here to see Royce?”

  “Um… I was.”

  “Oh, well. Go on in, I guess. He’s just getting out of the shower.”

  She practically skips down the hallway, and I put a hand to my chest to ease the ache before going in. This is my fault. I pushed him away. I didn’t show up last night. Even if we’re not together, he still has the right to know he’s going to be a father. I’ll tell him and let him decide what he wants to do.

  Oh God, I feel sick, and it’s way more than morning sickness. I quietly walk in and take a couple of breaths through my nose to try to calm the raging boil in my stomach. I need to just get it over with. I don’t hear the water running, and when I close the door, it echoes in his apartment.

  “You forget something, honey?” He comes out of the bathroom, pulling a shirt over his face. When his head pops through the neck hole, he momentarily pauses. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

  I lean against the fridge and try to figure out how to tell him. Do I just blurt it? Should I ask who that girl was? Would it be better if I just made a break for it and never saw him again?

  God, no. The thought of never seeing him again makes me so sad my eyes immediately fill with tears.

  He comes into the kitchen and stands about five feet in front of me. His brows scrunch together, but he doesn’t make an attempt to touch me. Yeah, something is definitely wrong. “Everything okay?”

  No precious. No baby. Not even my name. I really messed everything up. I shake my head and reach blindly behind me for the doorknob. “No.” It’s most definitely not okay. Absolutely nothing is okay right now.

  “Paisley.” His voice softens.

  “I’ll just be, uh… going now.”

  “Paisley.”

  I can’t do it. I can’t tell him right now. Maybe not ever. I turn around and finally find what I’m looking for, but he comes up behind me and clamps his hand over mine on the doorknob. He whirls me around and holds my face in his warm hands. “She’s my cleaning lady, Paisley. Her name is Honey.”

  Chapter 10

  Royce

  “I’m pregnant.” She throws her hands over her mouth, as if not believing the words came out.

  My jaw unhinges, and I try to say something, but my throat is knotted, so nothing comes out. There’s no hiding the tears that fall down her cheeks now, and as much as I know I need to be comforting her, I can’t force myself to move.

  Paisley. Pregnant. With my baby.

  Her belly’s gonna grow with our child inside of it.

  She suddenly covers her mouth and then fumbles with her purse before she drops it and runs to the bathroom. I hear her retching and immediately go to her. “Go away.” She tries to shoo me away, but I ignore her and grab her hair to hold it out of her face. “I’m fine.”

  “Let me help you.”

  She reaches up and flushes the toilet. “Sorry.”

  I ignore the apology and extend my arm to grab a towel off the counter. After getting it wet, I hand it to her, and she wipes her mouth and then stays where she is. Slowly and gently, I rub her back, calming myself just as much as I am her.

  “I’m good now.” She shuts the lid on the toilet, and I help her stand. When she leans over the countertop and looks in the mirror, I feel a kick in my nuts at the sadness on her face. “I just need to brush my teeth.”

  “Do you need anything else?”

  “No. It goes away after I puke.”

  “How long have you been sick?”

  She spits and then shrugs. “Couple of weeks.”

  “I thought you were on the pill.”

  “I am… I was. I guess I’m that one percent. I was always really careful and took it at the same time every day.”

  “It’s okay. But why didn’t you tell me as soon as you started to worry?”

  After setting the toothbrush back on the counter, she walks right past me. I follow her to the kitchen and lean against the counter as she opens a can of Sprite. When she locates a coaster, she finally finds my eyes.

  “Come closer.”

  She hesitates. “You’re not mad at me?”

  “No, I’m not mad at you. I’m taken off guard, but I’m not mad.”

  Her lip trembles, but she doesn’t cry. “I’m scared.”

  “Come closer, baby.”

  She crosses the kitchen and falls into me. I wrap her up and hold her as tight as I can to reassure everything is going to be okay. I was so mad at her for not showing up last night, but I can only assume this is why. “This the reason you ditched me last night?”

  “Yeah. I was going to take them last night before I came over, but I didn’t know I was supposed to use them first thing in the morning, and I didn’t want to do it here…”

  “Wish you would have told me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  As I continue to hold her, a million thoughts run through my head. None of them loud enough to silence the pride coating my veins that the woman I love is carrying my baby.

  “What do we do now?”

  “Now, you just relax and let me take care of everything.”

  She hugs me tighter, and I press my lips to the top of her head, an overwhelming sense of purpose rooting me to the spot.

  I honestly never had given much thought to my future and whether I’d have kids. I’m more of day-by-day type of guy… with the exception of knowing I’d be with Paisley. There isn’t even a question of wanting this baby with her.

  Growing up, I had a good family; at least, I thought I did. I don’t worry that I’m going to be a shitty dad, despite the rocky relationship my dad and I have now. He showed me a lot as a child, and I hope to give my kid the same good memories.

  I’ve always wanted everything with her, so being able to create a life with her is nothing but icing on an already sweet cake.

  “What are we gonna do?”

  “Nothing but be happy, babe. This is a shock, but it’s not a bad thing. Nothing that happens between us is bad.”

  “But it’s so unexpected.”

  I nod. “It is. But you’re going to be a great mother. I just know it. I’ll be an okay father, and our kid will grow up happy. I don’t know how much more we can ask for.”

  “You’re right. As long as we have each other, we’ll be okay.”

  “Damn straight.” I’ll make it that way no matter what.

  Paisley

  “You never told me about your mother.” We’re sitting on the couch a couple of hours after I first got here. He fed me some toast and put in my favorite movie to distract me.

  “What about her?”

  I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering if I should have brought it up.

  “She had cancer, and she died. Not much else to tell.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He keeps his eyes on the TV but begins bouncing his leg. “I am, too. She was the best.”

  I lean against his shoulder, and he grabs my hand, linking our fingers together. Figuring the conversation is over, I focus on the TV.

  “My dad fucked my mom’s nurse and got her pregnant. As soon as she died, I moved out on my own and haven’t looked back. I’ve never even met my sister.”

  “Holy shit, I’m—”

  “Don’t say you’re sorry for him. Never for him. He was a selfish prick who made the worst time of my life impossibly even more worse. As much as I try to pretend it doesn’t, it still fucks with my head, but the only time I know for sure it doesn’t is when I’m with you.”

  “Royce.” More is said when I say his name than just the one word. It means everything, and I don’t need to say anything else for him to understand what I’m trying to convey.

  He kisses my forehead. “Nobody will ruin what we have, including him. You want to talk
about your parents, I’ll listen, but he doesn’t get to ruin this, too.”

  “Okay.”

  “Thanks, baby.”

  “Speaking of…” I change the subject but won’t forget to ask more about his dad. Because I have questions, one big one in particular. But it’ll wait until he’s ready to tell me. “Have you ever thought about what you want to name your kids?”

  “I’ve never thought about it before. You?”

  I giggle because I have. A lot. “Well, my mom’s name was Rose, my grandmother Flora. We kind of have a flower name theme going on, so—”

  “You get your flower name if it’s a girl. But I won’t do some new age shit if you give me a son.”

  “New age shit?”

  “Yeah, like a fruit or something lame like that.”

  I erupt in laughter solely on the fact that he knows anything about “new age names.”

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. You’re just cute.”

  “Cute?” He swings me over so I’m straddling him. “You think I’m cute?”

  I rest my arms on the back of the couch. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Yeah. A baby is cute. A puppy or even a damn kitten is cute.”

  “Okay, sorry. I meant to say, you’re adorable.”

  He stands, and my legs wrap around his waist, then he brings me to the bedroom where he lays me on the bed. I expect him to start taking my clothes off, but he sits next to me, running his fingers over my face. “You. Are adorable. You’re beautiful, and every expression on your face tells me you’re trying not to freak out. But right here, there’s not a safer place to be so don’t be afraid to let it all out.”

  God… He notices everything. I laugh for a second because he knows me so well.

  “Paisley.” He kisses my forehead, then runs his nose along mine. “It’s gonna be okay.”

  Then I let go of the tears I’ve been holding back. With every hitch of my breath, he kisses me. Holds me tighter. He reassures me he’ll take care of me… of us, our family. He gives me the security I was so afraid I’d lost, and when he promises me forever, I believe him.