Pregnant by Mr. Wrong

by Rachael Johns

  “Oh, God, what have I done?”

  Quinn loved her and she loved him, more than she’d ever dreamed possible. No one had ever made her feel with the intensity that he did—anger, happiness, sadness, love. With him, everything was amplified.

  In holding on to the past—to the mistakes that had got them where they were today, in refusing to forgive him for not immediately coming clean about the letter, in not trusting or believing that he loved her, had she been cutting off her nose to spite her face?

  She scrambled out of bed and into the shower. She needed to see Quinn ASAP, but first she needed to find the perfect leather jacket.

  * * *

  “Hi, Uncle Quinn.” The moment Quinn stepped into his mom’s house late Saturday afternoon, his niece Hallie launched herself at him and threw her arms around his middle.

  “Hey, princess,” he said, welcoming the hug from his niece. He loved his niece and nephew with all his heart and they loved him back in the uncomplicated way that only children could. It was a pity all relationships weren’t so effortless. Not in the mood for a party—even one that would involve all his favorite junk food from when he was a kid—he forced a smile and handed Hallie one of the two gifts he’d brought with him. “Happy Birthday.”

  Grinning up at him with her big blue eyes, she took the gift. “Thank you.” And then she nodded toward the other present. “Is that one for Hamish?”

  “Sure is. Where is he?”

  “He’s in the family room playing with the train set Granny Nora gave him. Where’s Bailey?”

  Quinn swallowed. The last time he’d seen his niece had been at his mom’s birthday party and he guessed no one had mentioned to Hallie that he and Bailey were no longer an item. “She’s not feeling that great.”

  Before Hallie could respond to that, Blair sauntered down the hallway toward them. He took one look at Quinn and broke out into hysterical laughter. Clutching his stomach, he called over his shoulder toward the kitchen, where Quinn guessed the rest of his family were congregated. “Hey, everyone! Aunt Bossy is here. Everyone got your questions ready?”

  “Ha-ha,” Quinn said, bracing himself as he followed Blair into the kitchen, which was decorated in balloons and streamers for the twins’ family party.

  He’d already spoken to his mom and sisters this morning, but that didn’t stop them smirking a little. Since his confession had appeared on the newspaper’s Facebook page late last night, it felt like he’d heard from every person living in Jewell Rock, but the one person he’d wanted to touch with his words had been conspicuously silent. He’d been getting emails and messages all morning from women—not offering advice as he’d requested, but offering themselves on platters instead. He’d have switched off his phone and crawled into a hole if not for the possibility Bailey might try to get in contact with him. All day he’d been holding out hope that she would, but now, as it headed toward nightfall, that hope was dwindling fast.

  Lachlan held up the local newspaper and started reading from a recent Aunt Bossy column, putting on a high-pitched, whiny voice. “Dear Aunt Bossy, I’ve been married for fifteen years, but I secretly still lust after my high school sweetheart. I recently looked him up on Facebook...”

  “So what did you get for your birthday, Hallie?” Quinn asked, speaking over the top of his brother as he pulled out a seat and sat at the table.

  “Did you even have a high school sweetheart?” Blair asked, not giving Hallie the chance to answer.

  Sophie sat down beside Quinn and elbowed him. “Is this for real? Are you seriously Aunt Bossy?”

  “What do you know about fixing other people’s problems?” Callum asked with a chuckle.

  Quinn reached out and grabbed a glass, his fingers curling around it as he poured himself a drink from a bottle of cola on the table. Was it too early to add a measure of whiskey? If it weren’t for not wanting to upset Hallie and Hamish, he’d never have left the house today. Right now he had enough self-loathing that he didn’t need to take more crap from his brothers and sisters.

  “You know what?” he snapped, glancing from one of his siblings to the next. “Perhaps I know more than any of you have ever given me credit for.”

  And then he let loose. He zeroed in on Mac first. “I know you messed up big-time in your career, but you’re not the first soccer player to kick an own goal and you sure won’t be the last. Either stop feeling sorry for yourself and go back to the game, or move on and stop being such a grump. There’s more to life than winning.”

  Mac raised his eyebrows and took a sip of his drink, but Quinn continued. He looked to Callum. “Make sure you don’t screw things up with Chelsea, because she’s way better than you deserve and sometimes you don’t know how good you’ve got something until it’s gone. And, Annabel, I know you loved Blake and that you feel like you’ll never find anyone else that matches up to him, but you need to move on, or you may as well have died, too.

  “Blair and Claire.” He looked to where they sat next to each other across the table. “I don’t know if you guys noticed, but you got a divorce—it’s time someone told you that the whole concept of getting divorced means actually separating your lives. From where I’m sitting, you look more like newlyweds than divorcees. If breaking up was a mistake, then get the hell back together, but if not, it’s time to cut loose and move on.”

  He was on a roll, but he took a quick sip of his drink before turning to Sophie. “And, you.” He pointed his finger at her. “What’s with this lesbian joke? If you don’t want Mom to hassle you about dating, then tell her, don’t make up some stupid story about liking pussy.”

  His mom, who’d been standing by the oven, gasped and covered her mouth. Quinn wasn’t sure if she was shocked by his words or by the fact that Sophie had been having her on.

  “But while we’re on the subject of dating,” he continued.” What are you so afraid of, Soph?”

  She blinked, opened her mouth and then closed it again, so Quinn directed his finger at Lachlan. “I’ve got stuff for you, too.” He glanced at Hallie, who’d been watching the conversation earnestly. “But I’ll tell you later.”

  His family sat around the table in stunned silence for a few moments, and Quinn waited to feel better for getting all this off his chest, but it didn’t happen. Instead, he felt like a jerk for having such an outburst when they were supposed to be celebrating Hamish and Hallie’s birthday. He realized he was giving Mac a run for his money for the title of Family Grump.

  Finally, Nora spoke. “Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way, shall we have lunch?” Good old Mom—her answer to everything was always food and he’d be sure to apologize for his behavior later. Even if he ardently believed everything he’d told his brothers and sisters, this dinner hadn’t been the time to tell them.

  Everyone jumped on this bandwagon, leaping up from their various chairs to help Mom carry the homemade pizzas, garlic bread and token salad to the table. As usual, there was enough food to feed an army and for a moment he thought about packaging up some leftovers and taking them over to Bailey. It was now more important than ever that she eat well.

  But he quickly discarded this idea—she’d made it clear she didn’t want anything more than his body.

  Once the food was all laid out, everyone resumed their seats. Hamish was called in from the family room and, blissfully oblivious to the tension in the room, he chattered away, telling everyone about the track he’d just built. Conversation turned to other things, but Quinn didn’t even attempt to participate. He vaguely registered Annabel telling everyone about a suspicious fire she’d attended last week and Callum talking about an idea he’d had for a whiskey club, but truthfully he was lost in his own hopeless thoughts.

  Perhaps it would be better if he just left. He felt bad for his niece and nephew, but he was in no mood to celebrate. He was about to stand up when the
doorbell jingled its chirpy tune.

  “I’ll get it,” Sophie said. She pushed back her seat and headed toward the front door. Quinn guessed it might be another one of the “friends” she’d been parading in front of Mom lately to encourage the suspicion that she was a lesbian. Normally he’d enjoy the joke, but he found very little funny right at the moment.

  He picked up a piece of pizza and took a mammoth bite, then almost choked as Bailey appeared in the doorway.

  Sophie look pleased with herself. “Look who I found.”

  “Hi, everyone.” Bailey lifted a hand to wave and her eyes came to rest on him. His gut felt hollow despite all the food he’d just devoured.

  He swallowed, unable to speak as his family took their turns greeting the mother of his babies. It was then he noticed that she held a black leather jacket in her other hand.

  “Do you want to sit down?” Annabel said. “Quinn told me about the twin-to-twin transfusion thing. I’m really sorry.”

  Bailey nodded and then cleared her throat. “Actually, I need to talk to Quinn.”

  “Would you two like some privacy?” Nora asked. “You won’t be disturbed in the family room.”

  Bailey shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I want to say this in front of everyone who matters to Quinn.” Then she held up the jacket and looked straight at him. “I got this for you. I know it’s not exactly the same as your old one and I’m so sorry for ruining that one, but I hope you like it.”

  “Cool!” exclaimed Hamish as Bailey stepped toward Quinn and proffered the jacket.

  He found himself turning in his chair to face her, then he reached out and took it.

  “Try it on,” she said, with a nod of encouragement.

  Not sure what to say or think, he did as she said, threading his arms into the jacket. He had to admit it fit almost perfectly, and in spite of the smell of new leather, it was almost as soft as his old one had been after years of wear and tear.

  “It looks great. Do you like it?” Bailey asked.

  “I like it fine.” Quinn raised an eyebrow, expecting a reprimand for rudeness from his mom, but everyone was watching them and no one was saying a word.

  She smiled. “I’m glad.”

  Was that it? She came over here to give him a leather jacket? Whether he liked the jacket or not didn’t matter. If he couldn’t have her, he didn’t want anything from her. Clothing included. “Is that the only reason you came? To give me a new jacket?”

  She rubbed her lips one over the other as she often did when she was nervous.

  “Well, that’s not the only reason,” she admitted and then dropped to her knees in front of him.

  Quinn felt his eyes boggle in his head and he instinctively reached out to steady her. She may only be five months pregnant, but she was already almost as big as some women were at full-term. She had no business being on the floor. “Get up off there!”

  Bailey shook her head, held up her hand and gazed up at him, her beautiful forest green eyes glistening with water. “Quinn McKinnel, I believe you.” It took him a second to register those three words.

  “You do?” he whispered.

  She nodded and reached up to hold his hands. “I saw your confession and I’m sorry you had to go that far to prove your love to me. You are the father of my babies, and because of that you’ll always be special to me, but it’s much more than that. You are also my friend and the man I love with all my heart. I’m sorry I didn’t believe in your love at first—I was scared, but I hope in time you’ll forgive me and I hope you’ll also do me the great honor of becoming my husband.”

  “Are you for real?” Quinn had never been more shocked in his life. Had Bailey just proposed to him? She wanted him to forgive her?

  But even as he asked these questions, he knew that marriage was not something Bailey took lightly or would ever joke about. He tried to swallow as a ball of emotion erupted in the back of his throat. His eyes took their turn to water, and gazing down at her, he knew he was in very real danger of crying like a girl in front of his brothers. He didn’t care. At least his tears would give them something new to rib him about aside from Aunt Bossy. And if this wasn’t some cruel joke or torturous dream, any teasing would be more than worth it.

  “Yes, sure am. I know we’ve done everything backward and in a nontraditional way,” Bailey continued, her voice a little shaky, “so I hope you’ll forgive me for breaking tradition one more time and asking you to marry me, but I wanted to show you that I do believe in you and your love. I love you back and I want nothing more than to be your wife. What do you say?”

  In reply, Quinn leaned over in his seat and captured her face in his hands. He brushed his thumbs over her smooth cheeks as he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. Marriage, the thing he’d always vowed to stay clear of, suddenly felt like the biggest prize of his life.

  “That’s a yes, in case you were wondering,” he said as he came up for air. “And I’m a feminist, so I’m more than happy for you to do the proposing honors. I’ll even take your surname if that’s what you want.”

  As long as they were together, he didn’t give two hoots about the little things.

  She laughed and a tear sneaked from the corner of her right eye and rolled down her cheek. “Now, let’s not get too carried away. As you said, Bailey McKinnel has a nice ring to it.”

  All around them his family burst into shrieks and cheers of congratulations, but Quinn barely registered the excitement. He couldn’t look away from Bailey.

  “I do love you,” he whispered, brushing another runaway tear off her cheek with his thumb.

  “I know you do,” she whispered back. And he could see the truth in her eyes. “I would have come quicker, but I’ve spent all day looking for the perfect engagement jacket.”

  He chuckled. “Does this mean I don’t have to buy you a ring?”

  “No way!” She held up her hand and wriggled her fingers at him. “I want a big one!”

  Everyone laughed.

  “I think this calls for a toast,” Nora said, clapping her hands to get her family’s attention. “But since there are two pregnant women at the table, it will have to be orange juice all round!”

  “Oh, dear,” Bailey said as she tried to get up from her position on the floor. “Maybe it was a little silly to get down so low in my current predicament.”

  “Yeah. Don’t do it again, alright?” Smiling down at her, Quinn offered his hands and helped her off the floor.

  “Can we have the cake now?” Hamish asked.

  “Yeah,” Hallie said with a slight moan. “It’s our birthday, remember?”

  Everyone laughed and Quinn helped Bailey into a seat at the table. Dragging his own chair closer, he wrapped his arm around her and drew her into his side. Now that he had her back again, he never wanted to let her go.

  He wasn’t naive enough to think that things would be smooth sailing from here on in—they still had the appointment with the TTTS specialist and the rest of Bailey’s pregnancy to get through—but whatever life threw at them next, they would deal with it together. With this knowledge, he pressed his lips against her cheek—a chaste kiss with the promise of much more to come later—and whispered, “Welcome to the family, sweetheart.”

  Epilogue

  AUNT BOSSY TIES THE KNOT

  Regular readers of our popular Aunt Bossy (aka Quinn Robert McKinnel) column will be interested to know that our beloved advice columnist has tied the knot.

  Quinn, son of Conall (dec.) and Nora McKinnel of Jewell Rock, and Bailey Ann Sawyer, daughter of Marcia and Reginald Wallace, also of Jewell Rock, were married last Saturday on the grounds of McKinnel’s Distillery.

  The ceremony was performed by the bride’s stepfather, Reginald, in front of the distillery’s beautiful lake and was
attended by a crowd of well-wishers from their hometown. The bride, dressed in a stunning gown designed by local Cindy Lemmon, was attended by the grooms’ twin sisters, Annabel and Sophie, and her own younger sister, Elle.

  The groom, with his four brothers as groomsmen, embraced his family’s Scottish heritage by wearing the McKinnel tartan. Blair McKinnel played the bridal march on his bagpipes.

  But it was the couple’s six-month-old twin sons, Avery and Morgan, dressed in kilts to match their father’s and carried down the aisle by their grandmothers, who stole the show.

  The romantic reception that followed in the distillery’s newly opened restaurant was for close friends and family only. Credit must go to the blushing bride for organizing the event—as if giving birth to gorgeous twin boys wasn’t enough to keep her busy, Bailey has also taken on the role of Director of Events at McKinnel’s Distillery and is already gaining a strong reputation for organizing the most magical events in Jewell Rock.

  The couple’s wedding was the fifth held at the distillery since the new restaurant opened last summer, with the first also being a family wedding between the groom’s older brother Callum and his new wife, Chelsea, who attended Quinn and Bailey’s wedding with their three-month-old daughter, Nora Jean.

  The grand reception feast was catered by the groom’s brother, and the restaurant’s head chef, Lachlan McKinnel, and his fiancée, Eliza, who also works at the distillery restaurant.

  The happy couple have chosen to delay their honeymoon until their boys are older but are looking forward to moving into their new family home, currently under construction supervised by another of the groom’s brothers, Owen (Mac) McKinnel.

  Turn to page 35 for Aunt Bossy’s latest advice offering.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A FAMILY UNDER THE STARS by Christy Jeffries.

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