Purs was, of course, his usual, charming self. Even Jim acted more than a little fanboyish over the guy. While Brenda and Jim were taking selfies with Purs and his crew, the contractor on the site needed to talk to Jess for a moment about the schedule for the weekend and upcoming week.
When it was time to leave, they were shutting down the site for the day and didn’t need her, so Jim and Brenda offered to drive her and return her to the hotel after dinner.
“So who’s babysitting our dogson?” Jim teased.
“Well, it’s a joint effort. The guys are dropping him off at Kel’s mom’s house every morning and she dog sits while they’re at work.”
“If they’re Stanley-approved, they must be good guys,” Brenda joked. “Never forget that.”
They found a Mexican restaurant not too far from the hotel, but Jess balked when her stomach rolled after Brenda offered her guacamole.
Brenda scowled. “Since when do you turn down guac?”
Jess felt her stomach take another dangerous roll. “Sorry. Not feeling it tonight. I really think I picked up something from the plane ride, a bug or something. I hope I don’t get you guys sick.”
Brenda touched the back of her hand to Jessica’s forehead. “You’re not running a temp. How much have you been throwing up?”
“Just in the mornings.”
“You staying hydrated?”
“Yes, Mom.”
Brenda glared at her. “Purs told me you’ve been looking pretty exhausted lately.”
“I’m working.” Brenda arched an eyebrow at Jess. “What do you want me to say?”
“‘Yes, Brenda, sure. To shut you up, I’ll gladly take a pregnancy test.’”
“I’m not going to take one.”
“Why not? If I’m wrong, prove it. Like you did the last time.”
“Because I’m not going to waste time or money on my damn nervous stomach. Remember last time I took one just to shut you up?”
“Exactly.” She dredged a tortilla chip through the guac and held it out to her. “Shut me up.”
After another roll of her stomach that made Jess close her eyes, she gave in. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “Can we eat first?”
* * * *
There was a drugstore across the street from the hotel. Brenda even offered to go in and buy the test for her, just in case there was anyone from the crew inside.
Back at the hotel, as they rode up in the elevator, Jess kept her voice down. “Mark and Ted’s room is right next to mine, so let’s keep it quiet, huh? I don’t need any false rumors getting started.”
Brenda mimed locking her lips and tossing the key.
They followed her to her hotel room, where Brenda and Jim sat and watched TV while Jess closed herself in the bathroom.
After doing the test, she left it on the counter and washed her hands, confidently returning to the room.
“That was fast,” Brenda said.
“I’m not going to watch it.” She sat on the end of the other bed. “Be my guest. This was a waste of time.”
Brenda shared a glance with Jim and stood, walking into the bathroom.
Jess scrolled through her work phone to see if she had any e-mails that needed her immediate attention and tried not to look at the time every five seconds.
She ignored Brenda when her friend cleared her throat.
“Jess.”
She still didn’t look up from her phone.
Jess was already crying when Brenda walked over and sat next to her, the test stick in her hand.
The little digital read-out said POSITIVE.
Chapter Thirty
Kyle lay stretched out in bed, Tris already asleep next to him, watching TV and trying to decide whether or not he wanted to turn the TV off or let the timer shut it off. Neither he nor Tristan had felt much like fooling around before bed.
They hadn’t for the past couple of days.
He’d be an idiot not to draw the correlation between their mutual lack of interest and missing the hell out of Jess. It felt like things were…not quite copacetic with her.
Like maybe she hadn’t completely reconciled with them, no matter what she’d said before leaving for Texas. They felt not a physical distance, but an emotional one.
After discovering the depths of her mother’s dysfunction, and Jess’ fairly well-concealed pain because of it, it wasn’t exactly a shocker.
We’ll give her however much time she needs.
He and Tris were okay, just…exhausted. Everything had finally caught up with them, and after perfection, then losing her, his attack, getting Jess back—the emotional blender kept changing speeds on them without warning and it’d worn them both flat out.
At least his knee was feeling somewhat better. He still had pain, and his doctor had recommended he use the crutches when he had to do a lot of walking or stand for long periods of time. Louis had another court date in a couple of weeks.
That was a man who wouldn’t make bail anytime soon. Mostly because he couldn’t afford it, and because of his previous record.
Kyle still wanted to smack Marilyn for that oversight, for putting Dillon at risk by not running a thorough background check on the guy.
In Marilyn’s favor, she’d adhered to their new boundaries, and she hadn’t restricted Dillon from spending time with Kyle and Tristan.
No kids of my own, though. He wanted Tristan—and Jess, if she still wanted them. Whatever they wanted, he was fine with.
He was about to roll over and shut off the TV when his phone rang. But it wasn’t Jessica’s ring tone. It was, however, a Sarasota number.
Thinking maybe it was one of the drivers from work, he answered. “Hello?”
“Hey, Kyle? This is Mark Collins.”
“Mark?” His brain had already started shutting down for the night and it felt like he was trying to jump-start a dead battery with an almost-dead battery. “What’s wrong? Is Jess okay?”
“Um…” He sighed. “That’s what we need to talk about. I’m not calling you as her employer, because that would be sketchy and unprofessional and probably borderline illegal. I’m calling as your friend and hers, as well as a fellow Dom to another.”
Kyle had to sit up. “Just…what’s going on?”
“You might want to put me on speakerphone and have Tristan listen in. This concerns both of you.”
* * * *
Tristan was driving. They’d dropped Stanley with Essie, who was under orders from her men to keep quiet about the plan.
Kyle stared out the windshield, still stunned into shocked silence.
Tristan had barely spoken since they’d gotten off the phone with Mark just over an hour ago, and Kyle couldn’t tell if he was upset or happy or…what the fuck he was.
Sure, by all rights, they probably should call Jess and talk to her, except they didn’t want her shutting down on them or making any rash decisions. According to Mark, she didn’t seem to be in a good headspace right now.
Plus Mark had already booked them on a flight leaving just before six a.m. for Dallas from Tampa. He’d done it while on the phone with them. They were now on their way north to Tampa, and would grab a room in the hotel at the terminal, a five-minute walk from the check-in counter.
Tristan had already arranged for a sub for his classes tomorrow, and Kyle had called in to work with a family emergency.
This was an emergency, and they were a family.
If Jess still wanted to be one with them.
“What do we do?” Kyle finally asked as they were crossing the Skyway.
“We go, we talk to her, and we love her.”
“What if she decides she doesn’t want to keep it?”
Kyle heard him let out a heavy sigh. “We go, we talk to her, and we love her.”
“You said that.”
“And I’ll keep fucking saying it, Kyle!” Tris screamed, startling him.
He’d…never heard Tris scream before.
With a hard set to his
jaw, Tristan pulled off at the north rest area, circled into the parking lot, and threw it into park. He sat there for a moment staring out at the black water before he scrubbed his face with his hands and looked at Kyle.
“Honestly? After what she’s been through? We don’t get a say in this.”
Kyle stared at him. “How can you say that?”
“Because I had shitty parents, and she had shitty parents. No, I didn’t want kids. And no matter how much I like Dillon, he’s not my kid. I can spend time enjoying being with him, hand him back to Marilyn, turn my back, and walk away. But I love Jess, and I’m not about to guilt-trip her into carrying a baby she probably doesn’t want.”
“You really don’t want a baby?” Kyle quietly asked, now realizing that painful ache in his gut was actually his heart breaking in slow-motion.
Tristan took a deep breath as he ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what the hell I want,” he quietly said. “I want Jess, and I want Jess happy. I want to make Jess happy, even though, yes, I realize that sounds wrong when I say it. I want to support her, whatever she decides.”
“What about us?”
“You and I are a given,” Tristan said. He reached over and squeezed Kyle’s hand—hard. “I love you. I meant it when I said I want to marry you. But after what we had with her and then losing it, I’ll do whatever we have to do, short of giving you up, to win her trust back.”
“What if she decides to keep it? You said you didn’t want kids. Does that mean you leave?”
“Can we stop beating ourselves up over this right now? Please? I’m tired, and I’m stressed, and you’re not far behind me. Let’s talk to her and then we can decide what comes next. No conversation we have right this minute is set in stone, because we might get out there and she tells us to go fuck ourselves.”
Kyle finally nodded. Tris shifted the SUV into drive and drove around to the exit leading back to the northbound highway.
He knew Tristan was right.
This wasn’t only up to him. It couldn’t be.
Whether or not Jess would actually talk to them when they showed up remained to be seen.
* * * *
Friday morning, Jess cried as she huddled over the toilet and finished puking.
This can’t be happening.
She thought they’d been careful. And fuckballs, she’d been working on job sites. She’d been crawling through disgusting houses, exposed to mold and mildew and all manner of garbage, and she’d had alcohol and taken over-the-counter pain medicine.
I don’t even have health insurance.
Worse, she had two men who’d readily agreed her no-children plan was a sound one.
Hell, she didn’t even know what kind of relationship she’d have awaiting her when she returned to Florida, and she was supposed to figure out what to do with a baby?
The men were looking forward to getting married.
I can’t have my job and a baby.
That much was obvious. It was basically why Essie had stopped working. If she kept the baby, she knew it was only a matter of time before Mark, Josh, and Ted sat her down and told her she wasn’t going to be allowed to do what she’d been doing.
What did she want?
She wanted her life, the life she’d started building in her head and in her heart. With the men.
I used to want a baby.
That’s when her mother’s voice filled her ear and her guts tensed, threatening to make her puke again.
No way in hell did she want to end up a bitter old shrew like her mother.
Maybe I’d be a horrible mother. Why would I torture a baby like that?
She thought about the pain Kel and Mal were going through.
But then she thought about Dillon, how he’d wanted to call her when Kyle was injured.
The smile on his face when she’d made cookies with him that first afternoon at the men’s house. Or how he helped her cook.
How he was always eager to tell her about his day.
How she’d found herself looking forward to spending time with Dillon.
What a good dad Kyle was to a child that wasn’t even his.
Right now, what she needed to do was pull herself together, staple her game face into place, and pretend there was nothing wrong. She had a job to do, and she’d be damned if she’d let them down.
* * * *
Mark was waiting for the men when they walked into the main terminal from the gate areas. Neither of them had checked luggage, so they followed him out to his rental. In his rush to get out of the house, Kyle had forgotten his crutches, and now he was limping and in pain.
He didn’t care, because he had only one thing on his mind—getting to Jess.
“How is she?” Kyle asked Mark.
“Doing a damn good job of pretending nothing’s wrong. She doesn’t know we know.”
Tristan stopped him. “Wait, what?”
Kyle felt dread congealing in his gut. “How’d you find out if she didn’t tell you?”
“Purs told us. The producer for the network’s film crew. Jess didn’t turn off her mic pack, and he said he heard her and her friend, Brenda, talking about it. Before that, she’d admitted to Ted the other day she puked that morning. Said it was just stress.
“I have an ethical dilemma, here. As her boss, and as a father and father-to-be, I really can’t have her working on hazardous sites. This site, fortunately, isn’t as bad as it could be. They’ve already cleaned out the worst room, removed the moldy wallboard, and fixed the roof leak, and she wasn’t inside for any of that.
“But we frequently deal with sites where I wouldn’t even want her having contact with the crew on a daily basis, much less be working on-site. Hell, we had one job a few months back with black mold, and Essie had just found out she was pregnant. We didn’t even want her in the same hotel with us for fear we might accidentally bring something back on our clothes or shoes. That’s exactly why Essie isn’t working. I can put Jess in the office, but she won’t be able to work on any job sites doing regular cleaning because of the chemicals. Or some of our disaster recovery jobs, like flood restoration, because of mold.”
Kyle rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit,” he muttered. “So you leave us to walk into the buzzsaw? Terrific.”
“A, you’re her men. B, I felt I owed you two. One of you, I’m assuming, is the father?”
Kyle exchanged a look with Tristan. “Yeah,” Kyle softly said. “She hasn’t been with anyone but us.”
“It’s none of my business what the three of you do personally. But I’m going to be honest with you. If she’s pregnant, we’re going to have to change her duties. That means she won’t be getting the pay raise she was counting on in the immediate future, because we’re going to have to temporarily hire someone else to work with her and take up the slack in the duties she was going to handle. I hate to sound like an asshole, but we are running a business.
“Once she’s had the baby, she can resume her full duties and we can increase her salary. We’re not going to fire her. For starters, we’re not dicks. Secondly, that’d be illegal. And third, we like her, and she’s good at her job. Sooo…” He shrugged. “Take all of that information into consideration.”
“What if she wants to perform her full duties while she’s pregnant?” Tristan asked. “Doesn’t she get a say?”
“No, because I won’t take a risk like that. Not ethically as her friend or as a parent, and not as an employer. Then there’s the fact that Ed would fucking kill me if I exposed our company to that kind of potential liability. That would be after he slapped me upside the head for being a dumbass.” He hit the key fob to unlock the car. “Who wants shotgun?”
Chapter Thirty-One
Tristan felt…numb. He had ever since struggling to process what Mark had told them last night. He’d honestly expected to wake up in their bed this morning, his alarm going off, to discover it’d all been a really strange nightmare.
The unfamiliar landscape passing
outside the back passenger window drilled a massively gaping hole in that theory.
Last night he’d gone to bed thinking they’d get back into a regular routine with Jess once she returned, he and Kyle would get married, and…life would go on in a rather uncomplicated sort of way. Eventually, Jess would move in with them, and they’d all live kinkily ever after.
Easy peasey.
This was not anywhere on his mental map.
Tristan tuned out Kyle’s questions to Mark and stared out the window. Right now, he didn’t feel like talking.
He felt like the rug was being yanked out from under them—again—but this time he had a bad feeling there wasn’t a happy ending waiting when they hit the floor.
They’d gotten lucky that Kyle hadn’t been hurt worse in the attack. Maybe all their good luck had been used up there.
In his experience, fairy tales…weren’t.
They pulled up at a hotel and Mark handed Kyle a keycard. “That’s for our room. 423. We’re next door to her room. I’m going to go get her from the job site and bring her back here on the pretense of needing to go over some stuff for a job in Florida with Josh on a conference call. Since it’s close to lunch time, I’ll propose eating here. I’ll text you when we get here. I’ll bring her to my room first.”
“What could possibly go wrong?” Tristan didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until Mark and Kyle both turned and stared at him from the front seat.
Fuck. “Why aren’t we going to the job site?” Tristan asked.
“Because after what happened last time, do you really want to confront her there, at her job? In front of a bunch of people?” Kyle asked.
“I guess not.”
They headed into the hotel and quickly found the elevator. “Maybe we need to get stuck in an elevator with her so she can’t run away,” Tristan muttered as it slid open in front of them. A little snort escaped him. “Worked for Niall and Aden.”
“Fucking stop it, okay?” Kyle punched the button for four and the doors slid shut.
Kyle’s angry tone pulled him up short. “What?”
Steady Rain_Suncoast Society Page 23
