by Street, K.
“I’m quite capable of driving myself to work. You don’t need to hover over me.” It came out a little bitchier than I’d intended. “I’m making a yogurt parfait. Do you want one?” I asked in an attempt to ease my guilt as I moved to the fridge, took out the Greek yogurt and fresh berries, and then placed them on the countertop.
“Sure. For the record, I’m not hovering over you.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“The folded blankets on the couch tell a different story.”
He was quiet for a few beats before he spoke again, “I’ll stay tonight, and if you’re still feeling okay, I’ll head home tomorrow.”
“All right. But there really is no need.”
I grabbed the granola out of the pantry as well as an orange-and-ginger caffeine-free tea bag.
“Do you mind getting two small mason jars out of that cabinet?” I tipped my head to the one I was referring to as I dropped the tea bag into the cup that still sat under the Keurig before going over to the silverware drawer.
The jars clinked as he set them on the counter.
When I pulled the drawer out, the utensils rattled together. I plucked two spoons and then came to stand next to Easton.
We worked together side by side. I scooped in a little yogurt while he layered the berries on top and sprinkled granola. We repeated the process, working seamlessly side by side, as though we had done it dozens of times. Because we had.
The sexy thoughts from a few minutes ago were extinguished by the familiar pang twisting in my gut. One that had nothing to do with being pregnant or morning sickness and everything to do with the man standing beside me.
Regret was a bitch. I felt it every time I looked at Easton. Every time I remembered the shattered look on his face when he’d walked out of that hotel room. The hurt in his blue irises when I’d told him my lies. The way my heart had broken when he believed them. I regretted all of it. And beneath all the regret was where fear lived. Lying in wait like a monster under my bed.
It was like a gnarled hand tightly clasped around my throat, crushing my windpipe until I couldn’t breathe. Fear bit into my skin, like shackles holding me captive. Imprisoned to a past I couldn’t shake. It seized every cell and nerve ending until it inhabited my marrow.
There was one thing I didn’t regret, and that was the baby growing inside me.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” The sound of Easton’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.
I swallowed hard and forced a half-smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. I should get going though.”
I grabbed a lid for the jar, screwed it on, and dropped it into a small, insulted lunch tote along with an ice pack before grabbing my tea. As I walked out of the kitchen, I called over my shoulder, “There’s a spare key under the turtle on the porch. I’ll see you later.”
I couldn’t look at him. Not when I was so close to falling apart.
Seventeen
Easton
“Later,” I called to Molly’s back as I watched her walk out the door.
I looked around her kitchen like I had entered an alternate universe. If you had told me a month ago—hell, even a week ago—that I’d be here, I’d have said you were out of your mind. I struggled to wrap my head around the last twenty-four hours. I was almost thirty-four fucking years old. She was supposed to be my wife, not the ex-girlfriend I’d knocked up after a one-night stand. There was an order to things, and this … this was not it.
She was having my baby, but Molly wasn’t mine.
Not anymore.
I reached for my cell, which sat on the counter, and called my dad. He had always been a voice of reason, and I could certainly use one.
The phone rang twice before he picked up.
“Hey, son.”
“Hi, Dad. Do you have a second?”
I heard papers rustle and then a door open.
“Sue, hold my calls, would you?” His voice muffled like he was covering the receiver.
Sue, my dad’s secretary, must have responded because I heard my father thank her.
“What’s up?”
“If you’re busy, it can wait.”
“East, I’ve got time. It’s important, or you wouldn’t have called.”
I raked my free hand through my hair and dropped onto the couch. The line was quiet while I searched for the words.
“Are you in some sort of trouble, son?”
“No. Nothing like that.” I filled my lungs with air and told him the reason for my call. “Back in February, I bumped into Molly when I was in Atlanta on business. We had both been drinking. One thing led to another.” I drew in another breath and then exhaled. “Dad, she’s pregnant.”
Several seconds passed before my father spoke, “You still love her?”
Of all the questions he could have asked, that was the last one I’d expected.
I didn’t even have to think about it. I loved her with every damn cell in my body. Things might be a hell of a lot easier if I didn’t.
“Does it matter?”
“It matters. A lot.”
“Yeah, I love her.”
“You’re sure the baby is yours?”
“I’m sure.”
I filled him in on the details. How she’d shown up at my house the day after the barbeque at Saylor’s, the phone calls, how much of an ass I had been at the hospital, and how I’d basically demanded she move in with me.
“Did you call for my advice or just to get it off your chest?”
“I’m not sure. Both maybe.”
“Am I to assume you’re done with—what was the term Knox used?”
“Man-whore?” I laughed despite the seriousness of our conversation. “And for the record, your precious daughter is to blame for that one.”
Back when my sister and nephew had lived with me, Knox had overheard his mother use the term to refer to my extracurricular activities.
“Ah, yes. I assume you’re done with … that.” My dad had never been overly critical. The comment was his subtle way of telling me to get my shit together.
“That’s a safe assumption.”
I heard a creak over the line and imagined him leaning back in his office chair.
“Well, if it’s advice you’re looking for, find out why she left. Where things fell apart. Don’t rush into anything.”
I scoffed. “It’s a little too late for that.”
“Son, this is the twenty-first century. Just because she’s pregnant doesn’t mean you sprint to the altar. If the foundation of a relationship is broken, a baby isn’t going to fix it.”
“I wish I knew how to fix it.”
“She’s young. Be patient with her. Maybe give her a little space.”
The last thing I wanted to do was give her more space. My instinct was to pack her shit, put her in the cab of my truck, and haul her ass back to Maplewood Falls.
“East? You still there?”
“I’m here.” I released a long sigh.
“Everything will work out. Have a little faith.”
“You sound like Mom.”
“Well, she’s a smart woman.”
I used my shoulder to hold the phone to my ear as I reached for my laptop on the coffee table and opened it. “Can we keep this between us for now? I’ll tell Mom later.”
“That’s a big ask.”
My parents had been married for over three decades, and they were also best friends. They didn’t keep many secrets from each other.
“I need time to wrap my head around it first.”
“Talk to her sooner rather than later.”
“I will.”
“Hey, East?”
“Yeah?”
“You going to be around this weekend?”
“I should be.”
“Good. Your mama’s planning Sunday supper to celebrate your birthday. She’s making all your favorites.” His tone clearly conveyed that I was not to disappoint my mother.
With everything that had been going on, I’d forgotte
n about my upcoming birthday. “I’ll see you Sunday. Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime.”
I disconnected the call and dialed Helen to let her know I planned to work remotely today. Afterward, I went over a proposal for a new project, responded to emails, and did some research on the internet. Then, I looked through Molly’s refrigerator, pantry, and bathroom.
She was too damn proud to take money from me. The way she saw it, the baby wasn’t my responsibility yet, which was bullshit. I was going to make sure my kid was taken care of, and right now, that meant taking care of her. If she had an issue with it, that was her problem.
* * *
Molly walked through the door with a weary smile on her face while I was in the middle of putting away the groceries.
“What’s all this?” She motioned to the kitchen counter.
“Nothing. I picked up a few things.”
“It looks like you bought out the store.”
She wasn’t wrong. I’d made a list this morning when I went through the house, and I’d also placed an Amazon order, so Molly would be getting a few deliveries this week.
My stare moved over her—from the top of her head to her feet. Her long bangs were swept to the side, revealing the bluish-purple bruise on her forehead. “How do you feel?”
“I’m fine.”
We stood there, our gazes locked. Unspoken words hanging thick in the air between us.
Finally, Molly broke the silence. “I’m going to take a shower.”
I watched her walk away, trying like hell not to think of her beautiful, naked body beneath the spray of the shower.
While I finished putting groceries away, I thought about what my dad had said earlier. About giving Molly some space. Down deep, I still loved her, but I didn’t trust her. She’d walked away so easily before.
Maybe it was time for me to step back. If she was fine, there really was no reason for me to hang out here. The proverbial ball was in her court. She needed to be the one to put it in play.
Eighteen
Molly
I sighed as I crossed the threshold into my bedroom and sat on the edge of my bed. I wanted nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep. I’d had a shit day at work, and my boss, Mr. Conway, had just taken on another project, which meant he passed all the tedious tasks he didn’t want to deal with onto me. He insisted everything was urgent, which meant I worked straight through my lunch break and ate at my desk. Five o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.
When I arrived home, Easton was in my kitchen. For some reason, I’d thought he would be gone, especially since I had assured him more than once that I was fine and there was no need to hover. Yet he was still here, in my house. Invading my space with his alpha-male tendencies and spicy, clean scent. Assaulting my heart with his kindness and making me want things I had no business wanting.
I toed off my shoes, took my phone out of my purse, and plugged it in to charge. Then, I gathered a change of clothes and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I hung the clean clothes on the hook affixed to the back of the door and stripped out of my work clothes, dropping them into the hamper.
I stepped to the linen closet, opening the door to get a towel. Extra shampoo and conditioner as well as a few bottles of my favorite body wash that hadn’t been there yesterday sat on one of the shelves. My bare foot brushed against something soft and smooth, drawing my eyes downward. Tucked into the space between the bottom shelf and the floor sat an unopened package of toilet paper, next to the open one that only had two rolls remaining. Warmth I didn’t want to feel spread through me as my gaze lifted, and I reached for one of the oversize plush gray towels and then moved to close the door.
Easton had done more than pick up a few things. One look at the vanity confirmed it. Next to the nearly empty bottle of prenatal vitamins was a new bottle with the protective seal in place. There was a round container that had belly butter printed on the label along with a few other bottles of lotion.
My chest felt too tight. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. Any girl would run to him, arms wide open, ready to lay her heart on the line. But I wasn’t any girl. As much as it hurt to love him from afar, loving him and losing him would be so much worse.
Why can’t I just be normal? Why do I have to be so afraid?
I tried not to think about the questions plaguing me as I turned on the water and stepped into the shower.
Thirty minutes later, dressed in black yoga pants and a stretchy tank, I walked through the living room on my way into the kitchen. The blanket and pillow that had been on the couch this morning were noticeably absent. I tried not to read too much into it as I kept moving.
Easton turned from the window when he heard me walk in. “Feeling better?”
“Much.”
“Good. That’s good.”
Awkwardness stilted the air, and we both began to talk at once.
“Thank—”
“I’m going—”
Easton chuckled. “You first.”
I crossed my arms, resting them on the swell of my stomach. “I just wanted to say, thank you. I, um … saw all the stuff in the bathroom, and I really appreciate you going to all the trouble.”
“You’re welcome. It wasn’t any trouble.”
“What were you going to say? Before?”
“If you’re sure you’re okay, I’m going to go home.”
“Oh.” That one little sound was full of so much disappointment.
“Unless you need me to stay.”
Don’t go. Stay. I need you. Please don’t leave.
“Not at all. I’m fine, really. In fact, you should probably go before it gets too much later.”
He gripped his nape, rolling his head side to side. He did it whenever he was stressed. “Do you have plans this weekend?”
“Not really.”
“I talked to my dad today.”
The news made me want to throw up. I could only imagine what his family thought of me. “Was he upset?”
Easton gave me the strangest look. “Why would he be upset? We’re both adults.”
He had a point, but his parents seemed old-fashioned, especially his mom.
“Mom’s making dinner on Sunday. I’m not sure what time. Probably around two. I thought you’d like to join us. You can drive down Saturday and spend the night and then head back Sunday.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but he kept on going, “You can take one of the guest rooms.”
“I don’t know. It’s going to be so weird. Your family probably hates me.”
“Nobody hates you, Molls.”
I didn’t believe that. Saylor probably wanted my head on a stick.
He folded his arms over his chest. “Look, it will probably be weird. Hell, it might even be downright fucking awkward. But you’re pregnant with my kid, and everyone is going to have to deal with it. Regardless, we’re all going to be connected for at least the next eighteen years. The sooner we all accept it, the better it will be.”
It will be fine.
Ninety-five percent of the time, the anticipation of the thing you dreaded was a million times worse than the thing itself, right?
It will be fine, I mentally repeated.
“Can I let you know?”
He nodded. Then, he asked, “When is your next doctor’s appointment?”
“Next Monday at one.”
“All right.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to get on the road.”
“I’m good.”
He walked past me and grabbed his duffel off the coffee table, shouldering the strap.
He almost made it to the door when I called out to him, “Easton.”
He stopped short and then twisted to face me, arching a brow.
I wanted to close the distance between us and embrace him, to hold him close and breathe him in. I wished there were some way to fix what I had shattered, but when you were the broken one, it wasn’t exactly easy t
o put someone else back together. My heart wanted to go to him, but my head refused to surrender, and my feet stayed rooted in place.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I ordered dinner for you. It should be here in about fifteen minutes.”
“You didn’t need to do that, but I appreciate it.”
“Lock up behind me.”
I wanted to tell him not to go, but the words died on my tongue. “I will.”
When Easton walked out, I clicked the lock into place. I listened for his truck to start and waited until I heard him drive away before I moved from the door and headed to my room to get my phone. After I disconnected the charger, I pulled up Paige’s contact and hit the call button as I sat on the edge of the bed.
Paige picked up on the third ring.
“I was just getting ready to call you. How are you feeling? Are you mad at me? Is the baby okay?”
“The baby is fine, and no, I’m not mad,” I promised. “I’m feeling better. Just tired. How is everything on your side of the pond?”
She laughed. “You’ve been dying to use that terminology, haven’t you?”
“Maybe.”
We chatted for a few minutes, and I had filled her in on almost everything.
“Molls, are you still there?”
“I’m here,” I sighed.
“What’s going on? Why did you get quiet on me?”
“Easton basically demanded I move in with him. He offered me my old job back.”
This time, Paige was the silent one.
“Say something.”
“I think you should consider it.”
Her softly spoken words felt like barbed wire across my skin.
“You want me to move out?”
“What? God … no. I don’t want you to move out. It’s just …” She trailed off. “I’ve been in meetings all day, and it looks like I’m going to be here, in London, for a while.”
“How long is a while?”
“Three months at least. Realistically, it will probably be more like six months to a year. It’s a great opportunity for me. My parents are great, but you know how my dad is. There is nothing that man hates more than a sense of entitlement. Just because he’s my dad doesn’t mean I get a free pass. This is my chance to prove myself to him.”
