by Lily Graison
“Why’s that?”
“Because I’d have something to worry about other than what I do now.”
“Which is?”
Running a hand over his face, Mick leaned back in the chair and looked toward the hallway.
“No one is up but us,” Christian said. “At least, I don’t think anyone else is. I haven’t seen a soul in two hours.”
“Did you see Faith?” Roxy asked.
“Oh yeah, I saw her all right and I’m in deep shit.”
She raised an eyebrow at him and leaned forward in her chair. “How so.”
He looked at her before glancing at the others in the room. Everyone was there, his best friends for the last five years and the women they’d claimed as their own. How had the life he used to think was so normal get so screwed up? He sighed before focusing his gaze back on Roxy. “She’s pregnant.”
The silence was deafening. The only sound to be heard was the chirp of crickets outside. He watched their faces, seeing the shock turn to placid calm. He wished he’d had the ability for the same thing before he walked off and left Faith standing. If she didn’t hate him before then, she probably did now.
Roxy was the first to move. She blew out a long breath and leaned back in her seat. “I guess we know why she didn’t sign those divorce papers now.”
Mick nodded his head. “She said her father told her not to.”
“Smart man,” Roxy said.
“If you say so.”
“I do. If she had signed those papers and the divorce was finalized, you’d be in court for years to come when she petitioned you for child support.”
The dull throbbing behind his eyes intensified at her words and Mick stared up at the ceiling and sighed. “I’ll be there anyway.”
“Maybe but we can get everything in writing before the baby is born and move on from there.”
The baby. Mick’s stomach clenched at the thought. He was going to be a father. What the hell did he know about being a father? Hell, his own hadn’t bothered staying around once he found out he had a kid on the way. He’d only met the man once and barely even remembered what he looked like. Would his own kid think he was just a worthless sperm donor like he thought about his own old man? The thought made him sick.
“Tell me what to do, Roxy.”
“Well, that depends,” she said.
He lifted his head and looked at her. “On what?”
“On what you want to do?”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, do you want this baby to have your name? Have you thought about what it’ll mean to divorce Faith and move on knowing you’ve left a part of yourself here? Can you walk away from your child and possibly let another man raise it as his own?”
His head was pounding as each question she asked thundered through his skull. He’d asked himself those very same questions half a dozen times each on his walk through this miserable little town and he didn’t have an answer for any of them. The only thing he knew without a doubt was, every time he thought of Faith, his gut twisted and his chest felt like it would crush under the weight of his need to see her.
He stood and shook his head. “I don’t have the answers for that right now.”
“You don’t have to answer them now,” Roxy said. “My suggestion would be to get some sleep, go talk to Faith tomorrow and figure out what you want to do when the time comes.”
He nodded and walked out of the room, stopping when he stepped out into the foyer. “Which room is mine?”
“Second floor,” Christian said. “Room four.”
He headed for the stairs, his steps heavy. He’d wondered most of the day what to do and he wasn’t anywhere close to an answer. The only thing he did know was that he had to talk to Faith. The sooner the better.
****
Mick read the numbers off the side of the house and compared them to the piece of paper in his hand Jessi had written Faith’s address on. They matched. He took a deep breath and tossed the paper to the passenger seat and killed the engine of the SUV. He stared out the windshield, trying to get his nerve up to actually walk to the house.
He’d laid awake most of the night wondering what he should do. The baby complicated everything. It wasn’t just a simple divorce that mattered anymore. It was a life. A life he’d help create and regardless of how useless his own father had been, he didn’t want his kid to grow up hating the man who’d given him life.
Of course, all of that was months down the road. Now, his problem lay inside the four walls of the small white house on the other side of the street. He turned his head, looking at the house again. Trees shaded the lawn and flowers sprang in a rainbow of color in a sea of green grass.
He opened the car door and stepped out onto the street, hurrying across the road before he lost his nerve. The thought of seeing Faith again caused his pulse to leap. Meeting her father, the good Reverend, made his stomach cramp and his breakfast threaten to come back up. What do you say to the man whose daughter you married while stone ass drunk and then knocked her up?
Climbing the steps to the porch, he approached the door and lifted his hand to knock. The door opened before he got a chance. The unknown man from the day before, the one he’d seen talking to Adam and Jacob stood just inside the door. He was broad shouldered, with a thick mane of black hair. His eyes were the same shade of green as Faith’s. This had to be another brother. He looked too much like Faith not to be.
“You’re brave. I’ll give you that.”
Mick raised an eyebrow and gave him a slight nod of his head. “I think the word you’re looking for here is stupid, not brave.”
The man grinned. “I was trying to be nice.” He opened the screen door and held it open. “Come on in. I’ll let Faith know you’re here.”
He entered the house, stopping just inside the door. The living room was brown. The carpet, the walls, the furniture, even the brick on the fireplace. It was like walking into a cave. The only light in the room came from the windows and the open front door.
The man who’d open the door shut it and took a few steps in front of him. “I’m Seth,” he said. “Brother #4.”
“Mick Sheppard.”
Seth grinned and looked over his shoulder. “The Reverend is out back. I’ll go grab Faith. You’ll need someone you know with you for emotional support.”
Mick swallowed his nervousness and looked around the darkened living room while he waited for Faith. Pictures hung on the walls, covering almost every square inch of space. The picture closest to him showed a group of young boys surrounding one tiny little girl with large doe eyes. He smiled while looking at it.
Pictures of Faith graced every wall, all of them surrounded by pictures of her brothers. Taking them all in he noticed what all the memories lacked. The presence of a mother. Not one picture showed anyone close to resembling Faith’s mother. He’d have to remember to ask her about that. He realized then that he knew next to nothing about Faith. Hell, he didn’t even know how old she was. Over 21, that much he knew. They’d carded her at the bar in Vegas but other than her having five brothers and her father being a minister, the girl was a complete mystery.
A commotion from the hall drew his attention and he turned his head. He grinned when he saw Faith.
“Where is the fire,” she said, grumpily. “You know the smell of breakfast makes me hack.”
“It’s not breakfast,” Seth said. “You have a visitor.” Faith looked up and froze, her eyes widening.
“Morning, Tinker Bell.” Mick had only seen her once in the morning and she’d been dressed then, now, it looked as if she’d just crawled out of bed. Her hair was sticking up at odd angles, one side plastered to the side of her head. An oversized t-shirt hung past her knees and a pair of fuzzy slippers was on her feet. She looked adorable.
She blinked and raised a hand to her hair, trying to smooth the strands. “What are you doing here?”
“Came to talk to you.”
Seth walked around her and
headed through the living room toward the kitchen. “You want me to tell dad he’s here?”
“No!” Faith yelled, her eyes widening.
A chuckle from Seth was all he heard as he turned and left the room. Mick stared at Faith, watching her shift from foot to foot. She wasn’t looking at him and her cheeks were tinted pink. “Did I make a mistake in coming this morning?”
She shook her head. “No. Daddy knows you’re in town so showing up here is probably the only thing that’s going to save you from his wrath.”
“That bad, huh?”
She laughed. “You have no idea,” she mumbled before finally looking up at him. “I have to get dressed. I’ll be right back.”
He waited until she turned before following her. When she tried to shut her bedroom door, he extended his arm and held it open.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to help you change,” he said, grinning, walking into her room and shutting the door behind him.
“Mick, you can’t be in here,” she said, staring at the door.
“Sure I can. We’re married, remember?”
She stared at him, her mouth a perfect “O”. He grinned and leaned back against the door. “You look too damn cute for your own good, Faith. I suggest you change quickly before I take advantage of the closed door and have my way with you.”
That snapped her out of her stupor. She spun on her heel and walked to the dresser, pulling out a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a t-shirt. She laid them on top of the dresser and glanced at him over her shoulder before turning her back to him and kicking off her fuzzy slippers.
Mick watched her and wondered what she had on under that nightshirt. He looked down at the doorknob by his hip and turned the lock on the door before looking back up at her. When the material of her shirt revealed her plain, white panties and nothing else, he pushed off the door and crossed the room. He reached her as the shirt slid over her head. “Turn around.”
She jumped when he spoke and whirled around, stumbling. He reached for her, his hands closing around her waist as he stared down at her.
“Mick! My daddy will kill us both if he finds you in here and me practically naked.”
“We’re married,” he said, sliding his hands up her ribs and cupping her breasts. “Not a whole lot he can say about it.”
Faith laughed and tried batting his hands away. “That’s what you think.”
“Then I suggest you be very quiet.” He bent at the waist and lifted the breast in his right hand to his mouth, his lips closing over her nipple. He flicked his tongue over the hardening bud, sucking it until she gasped and leaned back against the dresser, her fingers digging into his hair.
“Mick…”
He straightened at the soft moan of his name and lifted her, carrying her to the bed and lying her down on it. He followed her, taking her lips in a kiss that said he wasn’t taking no for an answer. His fingers skimmed her breasts and tickled the soft skin of her belly before diving inside the thin cotton of her panties. She moaned when he parted her wet folds, his fingers sliding easily between her legs. He worked her with his fingers, listening to her moans and gasps and thought his dick would explode with every sound she made. When her body stiffened suddenly, he latched onto her breast, sucking the puckered tip until she shuddered under him, her body convulsing as spasms wracked her small frame.
When she lay limply under him, he kissed each of her breasts and lifted his head. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open as she panted for breath. He smiled while looking at her and let his gaze drink in the sight of her.
The dusky pink areolas on her breast were darker than he remembered and small blue veins now ran just under the thin skin of her full breasts. A small, barely-there bulge curved her once flat belly and his hand covered the small mound instinctively. He stared at his hand, his fingers splayed across her stomach and his pulse raced with the knowledge of the tiny life now growing there. A baby. His baby. He looked up to find her staring at him. He smiled and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For leaving you alone yesterday. I shouldn’t have done that.”
She looked away briefly before looking back up at him. “It’s all right,” she said. “It’s pretty shocking news. Been there and had the nervous breakdown myself.”
“Sorry for that too.” He stared at her, watching her blink up at him until the sound of multiple voices from the other room caught his attention. He moved off the bed, helping her to her feet. “Get dressed before your old man comes in here and kills me where I stand.”
When she was dressed and had run a brush through her hair, he unlocked the door and pulled it open, waiting for her. Mick walked into the hall with her and rounded the corner of the living room to find five men sitting in the room. He recognized Adam, Jacob and Seth immediately. The other two stared at him with wide eyes before they both grinned. He looked down at Faith and nodded to them. “I suppose these are your other two brothers?”
“Yep,” she said, looking displeased at seeing them. “That’s Paul on the sofa and Matthew over by the fireplace.”
The five Weston men were staring openly and Mick almost shrank under their inspection. Paul, like Seth and Faith was dark haired with green eyes. Matthew resembled Adam and Jacob, light brown hair with brown eyes. They were all tall and Mick looked down at Faith and shook his head. How the hell had she ended up so short?
“Faith,” Paul said. “Are you not going to introduce us to your… friend?”
“You know very well who he is, Paul. You wouldn’t even be here if you didn’t.”
“Maybe, but its rude otherwise.”
“Then I’ll just be rude, then. Where’s daddy?”
“Out back.”
Mick saw her take a deep breath before nodding her head and looking up at him. She motioned to the doorway leading into the kitchen before turning and leading him through the house. His heart was racing by the time they stepped out the door.
She led him across the backyard to a small greenhouse at the back of the property. The door was open and Mick could hear someone singing softly. He sucked in a nervous breath as they neared. Why the hell was he so nervous? Was it because Faith’s father was a minister or because he’d married the man’s only daughter while intoxicated? Or the fact he’d knocked her up?
He stopped just outside the door when Faith did.
“Daddy? Do you have a minute?”
“I always have a minute for you, Faith,” the Reverend said without looking up from what he was doing. “What do you need?”
“Um, Mick’s here.”
The Reverend’s hands stilled and Mick felt a lump form in his throat as the man slowly looked up and turned his head to the door. Faith’s father appraised him from head to toe, his gaze lingering on the piercings and tattoos. His lips thinned and turned white in apparent disapproval. When he raised his eyes, their gazes locking, Mick knew he was in deep shit. He should have brought one of the guys with him. With those five brothers still in the house, he should have brought every damn person he knew.
Faith’s father was tall like his son’s, his brown hair was peppered heavily with gray and his eyes were as green as Faith’s were. He was older than Mick had imagined. He looked near sixty but what did he know? He knew so little about Faith, or her family, so he wasn’t about to start guessing now.
The Reverend wiped his hands on a towel by his arm and turned his whole body to face them before looking at Faith. “Go grab us a pitcher of lemonade, Faith. It’s a bit hot out here this morning.”
Faith glanced at Mick before turning and starting back to the house. He watched her as she climbed the steps, turning back to glance at him once, before disappearing inside the house.
“So, Mick, is it?”
Mick turned back around and looked into the greenhouse. “Yes, Sir. Mick Sheppard.”
The Reverend nodded his head and looked back down at the potted plant in front
of him. He picked up a small hand shovel, scooping dirt from a bag with it before adding it to the plant. He didn’t speak again until he was finished. “I don’t guess I have to tell you how I feel about this whole situation, do I?”
“No, Sir. I can imagine,” Mick said, leaning his shoulder against the greenhouse doorframe. “It isn’t something I’m particularly proud of myself.”
The Reverend nodded his head again. “This isn’t what I wanted for my daughter,” he said, turning to look at him. “I certainly never entertained the thought of her marrying some man she barely knows, let alone end up pregnant. I won’t lie and say I’m happy about any of this but what’s done is done. Nothing we do now will change it. All we can do is deal with it the best way we can and move on.”
Mick didn’t say anything to that. What could he say? The fact the man hadn’t thrown anything at him yet gave him hope he’d still be able to walk away, preferably without a permanent limp. The Reverend continued to stare at him, his gaze hard and penetrating. Mick felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny. He shifted on his feet and hoped like hell Faith would hurry back. How long did it take to grab a pitcher of lemonade, anyway?
The Reverend continued. “I don’t want my daughter’s life to be ruined by this. She’s young. Too young to be dealing with so much at her age. I only told her not to sign those divorce papers because of the baby. Once we’ve seen to its welfare, you’re free to go about your business. The more distance between you, Faith, and my grandchild, the better.”
The old man could have punched him and he didn’t think it would have stunned him any more. He straightened and looked him in the eye. “And if distance isn’t what I want?”
“I don’t really care what you want,” the Reverend said.
Mick snorted a laugh and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, I’ll give you credit for being honest,” he said.
“Complete honesty is all you’ll ever get from me, Mick. I don’t know you but from what I can see, you’re not the type of man I envisioned for my daughter.”
