The Right Side of Wrong

by Prescott Lane

  I look up at Slade, confessing another sin to him. “What if that’s my fault? What if she overdosed because I took Finn, and she was so distraught?”

  “She didn’t even know you were there that night,” he says.

  “Still, I stole her baby. She had to be grief-stricken and . . .”

  “And it was just another excuse for her to stick a needle in her arm,” he says coldly. “Finn would have died without you. I will not let you blame yourself for her death. The only thing you get credit for here is saving Finn’s life.”

  I lean into his body slightly. It’s hard to explain how much I love this man, and I’ll never know why he loves me.

  “Sometimes I wonder if the reason Finn eats so much now is because he was starved the first few days of his life,” I say, guilt hanging over me like a dark shadow. “I’ll never forgive myself for leaving him those few days.”

  He runs his hand across Finn’s head, mussing the few strands of hair he has. “I know what it’s like to blame yourself for something,” he says, looking at me with the most understanding blue eyes.

  “We’re quite a pair,” I say with a hint of a smile.

  “As long as we’re a pair,” he says.

  “Slade, no matter the reason, what I did was illegal, and if anyone finds out . . .”

  “Your mother is gone. No one can prove you took Finn.” He looks down at me. “One more lie?” he asks. “One more lie and then we never lie again.”

  *

  Sometimes you have to lie to keep a promise. This is one of those times.

  Slade sits down beside me in the lawyer’s office. All the lies, all the secrets, they’ve all just been the warm-up, the rehearsal for this moment. The lie to save me from all the others. The lie that makes Finn mine and Slade’s. The lie that lets me keep my promise.

  I tell the lawyer the same story I told Slade. The best lies are mostly truths. That’s what makes them effective. The only detail that changes is that when I returned, my mom asked me to take Finn, knowing she couldn’t take care of and provide for him. Finn will grow up knowing our mother was troubled, but she made the best decision for him. Our lie will give him that little bit of comfort.

  At her request, I took Finn, moved to Nashville, and haven’t heard from her since. I just recently found out she was dead, which is true, and realized I didn’t have any documentation giving me custody of Finn. He never even received a birth certificate or social security number.

  Of course, I had to prove that I was indeed a blood relative, his half sister. A simple blood test took care of that. We were also required by law to prove we tried in good faith to find his birth father. We took out ads in various personal columns of local Memphis papers, even sent a private investigator to ask neighbors who lived in my mom’s apartment complex. All of this took time, but of course, nothing turned up.

  Slade intertwines our hands, the massive blue diamond on my engagement ring a stark contrast to the simple platinum wedding band he wears. We got married in a simple ceremony at the ranch just a few days after I told him everything. Not only did I vow to love him in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, but I also vowed to love him when he’s an asshole. That got the crowd laughing. Not sure how the pastor felt about that one, but it had to be said.

  That was a couple of months ago now. His father, Clay, some other ranch hands, Jon, and Catrine attended. They got the same story we just told the lawyer. I’m sure Jon suspects it’s not the total truth.

  “This shouldn’t be a problem,” the lawyer says. “This kind of thing happens all the time. An aunt or grandmother, or in this case, a sister, takes custody of a minor while the parents get themselves clean or find work. That kind of thing. No paperwork is ever filed in those situations. Now, of course, your mother is deceased. The fact that your mother never filed for a birth certificate or social security number makes this a little more challenging, but we’ve established that you’re his last known blood relative. You have the means to provide for him. Now that I have the necessary evidence, this should be a pretty straightforward case.”

  “Thank you,” I say, reaching out to shake his hand to end the meeting, but Slade stops me.

  “There’s one other issue,” Slade says. “Once this is all settled, I’d like to start the process of adopting Finn.”

  He looks over at me and smiles. Just when I think I can’t love him any more, he does something like this. I lean over, kissing him on the cheek, and whisper my thank you. I have so much to thank him for. For having Jon escort me away from his father, for giving me a job, for looking past everything I threw at him, for stepping up to the plate with Finn, and for loving me. I don’t know that we do that enough—thank the people who love us. We should all do that each night before going to bed. Turn to the one we love and say:

  Thank you for loving me.

  Slade had mentioned adopting Finn a while back, but I had no idea he was going to bring it up today. As usual, Slade is full of surprises and full steam ahead. When he makes his mind up he wants something, he charges at it. Since Finn is so young, I plan on him calling us Mom and Dad. As he gets older, I will tell him the truth about who we are, but I think it would be too confusing for him to call us anything else right now.

  Still, when I think about it, if Slade does actually adopt Finn, then I will be married to the father of my brother. That sounds very wrong, but I’ve learned that sometimes a wrong does make a right.

  EPILOGUE

  SLADE

  “Happy Birthday, buddy,” I whisper in Finn’s ear. He looks up at me and smiles, not having any clue what to do with the cake before him.

  My dad, Catrine, Jon, baby Theo, Clay, and some other ranch hands are all here to celebrate Finn’s first birthday. Paige has been planning this day for weeks and weeks. The theme is the number one. The number one is on everything from the plates and napkins to the balloons and cups. Even the cake is in the shape of a huge number one.

  We moved back into the ranch two days ago, barely making it in time for his birthday. I knew Paige really wanted his first party to be here, at our home. I made sure to make that happen by paying the construction guys overtime and hiring additional workers, doing whatever I had to do to give her this.

  The day Finn was born, and the few that followed weren’t exactly picture-perfect, so I will make sure that his birth is a day to celebrate for the rest of my life. My son deserves that.

  Yes, he’s officially my son. Since there wasn’t anyone contesting the adoption, the process went smoothly, and yesterday it became final.

  Finn Turner.

  And his little brother is due in late spring, just before the oppressive Tennessee heat kicks in. Initially, we wanted the sex of the baby to be a surprise, but the little guy had other plans when he had his legs spread eagle during the ultrasound.

  My dad is armed and ready with the camera, trying to capture Finn eating his first birthday cake. Paige insisted Finn have his own. It’s a crisp December day in Tennessee, but still warm enough that we can do this outside.

  A picnic blanket is laid out especially for this moment. Finn is walking now, but he hasn’t quite mastered walking outside yet, always wanting to stop and pick at the blades of grass. Using me as support, he stands.

  Paige places the cake down before him as we all sing “Happy Birthday.” It’s not a big crowd, but big enough that he hugs my neck for reassurance.

  “Make a wish,” Paige says, holding the cake out in front of him as she and I blow out the single candle together.

  He looks at both of us for encouragement. Paige sets the cake on the blanket, and I scoop the icing with my finger and take a lick to show him what to do.

  He promptly turns around and sits down on his cake, and everyone bursts out laughing.

  “Finn!” Paige cries, but she lets him sit there, mushing the cake between his fingers and then sticking his hands in his mouth. When it starts to go in his nose and ears, she scoops him up, rushing to throw him in the ba
th.

  The party winds down after that, and everyone heads home. It’s just about Finn’s nap time anyway, so the timing is good. After some quick cleanup outside, I walk in the house, hearing Finn’s little footsteps on the wood floors. I hear his giggle and see his belly enter the room before he does. Wearing only a diaper, he rushes toward me. He can’t quite run yet, but he’s getting there. His speed is now a fast waddle.

  “Finn Albert Turner,” Paige says, a playful tone in her voice as she chases him, her shirt covered in cake and water.

  Picking him up, I toss him in the air a little, and he squeals. “Everyone leave?” Paige asks.

  I kiss her on the head. “Yep. Just us.”

  She tickles Finn a little. “Sugar rush. He’s never going to nap.”

  “I’ll put him down,” I say.

  Finn is a great baby and an even better napper. He sleeps about as good as he eats, so that’s saying something. It doesn’t take long before he’s out for the count. Paige’s sleeping habits have improved as well. She still loves the Cooking Channel; she just doesn’t watch it in the middle of the night anymore.

  Looking for Paige, I grab a slice of leftover cake and stick a candle in the middle. I know Paige didn’t have any except what got on her clothes. I wander to our bedroom, which is on the opposite side of the house from Finn. Paige isn’t quite used to that yet, accustomed to him being close.

  Opening up the door, I see her standing at the dresser in only a black bra and panties, changing from Finn’s icing finger painting. Her little baby bump is in full view. My breath catches in my throat. I’ll never get used to seeing her like this, finding her in my bedroom. I remember that first time I found her asleep in here, so beautiful. It’s that same feeling every time.

  “Stay just like that,” I whisper.

  She turns to me, her skin blushing. I just stand there, admiring her, so beautiful, growing our little baby. “Think I might need to keep you pregnant.”

  She raises an eyebrow at me. I know I’m pushing it. We are already going to have two kids less than two years apart. “I’ve actually been thinking about something you suggested,” Paige says.

  “What’s that?” I ask, holding out the piece of cake for her.

  “Clean baby food. Or as you like to call it, green shit,” she teases. “I’m thinking instead of nursing, I’ll maybe get a marketing degree and start my own company, helping low-income parents give their babies healthy options. The organic stuff is so expensive. There has to be a better way.”

  “How am I supposed to argue with that?”

  “You’re not,” she says, placing the cake on the nightstand. “I know you don’t expect me to work and are happy to provide for our family, but I need to do this.”

  “And I’m all about giving you what you need,” I tease, taking her hands. “Paige’s Promise. That should be the name.”

  She kisses me slowly, sweetly. “Thank you.”

  I reach into my pocket for a folded-up piece of paper. “A gift,” I say.

  “It’s not my birthday,” she says, smiling and shaking her head at me. I love spoiling her, giving her everything she never had before.

  “I think the mother of the birthday boy should get a gift,” I say, handing her the paper.

  Kissing me again, she takes the paper and opens it. She looks up at me, confusion in her eyes.

  “A picture of a beachfront bungalow?”

  “We never had a honeymoon,” I say, grinning.

  “What?” she cries out.

  “A week in the Caribbean,” I say. “That’s our room.”

  “Are you kidding me?” she asks as a smile spreads across her face.

  “And before you freak out, Finn is coming with us. They have a nursery and full-time nannies on staff to watch the kids so we can have a romantic dinner or . . .”

  “Oh my God, Slade,” she says, bouncing up and down a little.

  “I know the week of Finn’s birth doesn’t hold the best memories for you,” I say. “But we are going to change that. We leave tomorrow.”

  She leaps into my arms, kissing me hard on the lips. She’s in her underwear, and she’s kissing me, so that’s the only invitation I need. I tackle her to the bed as she laughs. Inspiration strikes, and I reach over to the birthday cake, grabbing some icing with my finger.

  She gives me a don’t you dare look, but I’m a pretty daring guy. Slowly, I use my finger to glide the icing down her neck, pulling her bra down and circling her nipple, my tongue following the same path.

  It’s not her birthday, but she is my wish.

  *

  Thank you for reading THE RIGHT SIDE OF WRONG! I hope you loved Paige and Slade’s love story.

  If you are craving another single mom romance, make sure to check out my book, THE SEX BUCKET LIST and follow Emerson as she plunges back into the deep end of the dating pool.

  BLURB:

  Emerson is ready to reclaim her life. Her husband might have left her to juggle three kids and the family business, but enough wine and girl talk can get a lady through anything.

  A little more wine, and one girls’ night later, she’s also armed with a very special sort of bucket list, her girlfriends insist the drought she’s been in has to end, and Emerson’s more than willing. Particularly when a certain handsome co-worker is involved. Armed with new lingerie, a fancy high-tech toy, and a list of things to try, she’s ready to take charge. Of love, her life, and her libido.

  How much trouble can one well-meaning woman get into?

  Thanks again, and make sure to sign up for my newsletter to keep up to date on all my latest releases, sales, and book news!

  authorprescottlane.com/newsletter

  ALSO BY PRESCOTT LANE

  Ryder (A Merrick Brothers Novel)

  Knox (A Merrick Brothers Novel)

  Just Love

  A Gentleman for Christmas

  All My Life

  To the Fall

  Toying with Her

  The Sex Bucket List

  The Reason for Me

  Stripped Raw

  Layers of Her (a novella)

  Wrapped in Lace

  Quiet Angel

  Perfectly Broken

  First Position

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Two little words—thank you. Hardly seem sufficient. But those two words and these few lines are what I have to express how much it means to me that you’ve read my book. Whether it’s your first book or your tenth, whether you’ve been with me since the beginning or just found me. Thank you.

  Thanks for loving romance, reading romance, and falling in love with the characters I write over and over again. It means more to me than I can ever express.

  Thank you to Mary Dube and the team at Grey’s Promotions for sharing my books and organizing this release. A special thanks to Lori Jackson for her incredible cover design. I love it so much. And to Scott Hoover for taking the exceptional photo.

  A huge shoutout to Jenny Sims at Editing 4 Indies for polishing my words until they shine. And huge hugs to Michelle Rodriguez for being the absolute best beta reader in the world.

  Lastly, thanks to my friends and family for sticking with me through all my crazy, which happens with each book. I love and appreciate you all so much.

  Hugs and Happily Ever Afters,

  Prescott Lane

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PRESCOTT LANE is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and graduated from Centenary College in 1997 with a degree in sociology. She went on to Tulane University to receive her MSW in 1998, after which she worked with developmentally delayed and disabled children. She currently lives in New Orleans with her husband, two children, and two dogs.

  Contact her at any of the following:

  www.authorprescottlane.com

  facebook.com/PrescottLane1

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  Prescott Lane, The Right Side of Wrong