“Lose the underwear,” I tell her as I tug off my pants the rest of the way.
Her eyes widen, probably at the commanding tone in my voice, but she lifts her ass and slides them down her legs without comment.
My head drops back as a groan escapes my lips. “You’ve got the sexiest little pussy I’ve ever seen. Jesus Christ.”
She blushes a deep red on her cheeks and her teeth sink into her bottom lip. She’s embarrassed – shy. She’s got no fucking reason to be. She couldn’t be more perfect to me if she tried.
I dive between her legs, my arms wrapping around her thighs to hold her in place as my tongue makes contact with her clit.
She arches her back, a cry of pleasure bouncing off the walls around us as I tease and torment her with my mouth.
Her hands find my head and grip onto my hair, pulling and tugging as I bring her to the brink.
Her hips start to wriggle, and I hold her tighter, not allowing her any escape from the orgasm I know is building inside her.
“Ryan!” she cries out. “Fuck, Ryan, I’m –”
I don’t stop – I take her all the way there until she’s shaking in my arms, her moans becoming louder as she rides the wave.
I gently let go and sit back, grinning at her as she jerks and twitches.
“Oh my god.” She pants. “That was amazing.”
“Oh, baby, we’re only just getting started,” I say with a wicked grin.
Before she can even reply, I’ve lined myself up and pushed deep inside her hot little body.
“Fuuuuck,” I breathe as her walls grip me tight and she moans in my ear.
This woman has ruined me already. Nothing has ever felt so good – so right, and as I start to move inside her, filling her deeper with every stroke, I know that nothing else ever will.
I wake to the sound of a groan and a muttered, “Oh fuck.” I’d know that voice anywhere, and unfortunately, I also recognise the torment in the tone.
Memories of last night come back to me in a flood, a rush of images hitting my brain one after the other, each having more impact than the last.
They’re so good, but without the influence of alcohol in my system, I can see that this was never going to be as simple as our hastily made agreement led us to believe.
This is complicated. This is messy. This might result in a baby.
I feel the bed move and I lift my head, too fast – my vision blurs before I gather my bearings and zone in on her.
“Darcy.” My voice is raspy as I reach for her arm, stopping her from climbing off the bed. She’s got the sheet wrapped around her naked body, the golden skin of her back and shoulders exposed to me. “Come here.”
“Ryan, don’t. This was a mistake.”
She just referred to the greatest night of my life as a mistake, and the only person I’m disappointed with is myself for thinking it was going to go any other way than this.
Dreams are free but sleeping with the woman who was meant to be your new sister-in-law was never going to go well for me, especially not when I love her the way I do.
“You can get a morning-after pill, Darcy, you don’t have to risk anything you don’t want to risk.” The words come out numb, dull. Dead.
“There shouldn’t be anything for me to risk, this should never have happened,” she whispers.
She’s right. I never should have offered. I never should have crossed the line. She was hurt and vulnerable, and I shouldn’t have done it.
“I’m sorry,” I start to say, but she cuts me off.
“It’s not your fault.” Her voice is broken and small, but I know she means those words. She doesn’t blame me, but she regrets what happened between us and that probably hurts more than if she did decide to hold me responsible for our actions. “My head is killing me. I need to shower. I’m a mess, everything is a mess.” She’s on the verge of tears.
“I can help you. I can take care of anything you need.”
She shrugs off my hand that is still lingering on her arm. “I think you’ve done enough.”
I nod in defeated acceptance. She’s dismissing me.
“I want to help you.” I’m pleading now, and I hate the sound of the desperation on my lips, but I can’t make it disappear.
“Please.” It’s barely a whisper this time. “Just go.”
I turn away as she stands, giving her privacy. I don’t turn back until I hear the door to the bathroom shut.
I gather my clothes in silence, putting each item on far slower than required, hopeful that she’ll come back out and face me, but suddenly I’m fully dressed, and I can still hear the spray of the shower hitting the floor.
She’s not coming out. Not while I’m still here.
I glance around the room, spotting our agreement still on the desk where we left it. I can’t help myself. I fold it in half and shove it in the pocket of my suit pants. And then I do something I never thought I’d do… I do exactly as she asked, and I walk away from her.
5
Darcy
The water sprays heavily against the tiled floor of the shower, yet I’m still bone-dry, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet.
I have no idea how much time has passed as I’ve sat here, thinking through the colossal fuck-up I’ve just made.
I slept with Ryan.
I slept with my brother-in-law.
Only he’s not my brother-in-law and he never will be, but that’s not the real problem here, the problem is that I liked it.
I slept with another man on what was meant to be my wedding night, and I liked it.
Fuck.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to shove away the hazy memories from my mind.
The agreement.
The sex.
The passion.
The very real consequences of what might result from last night.
My stomach lurches and I fly off the toilet, only just getting the lid up in time to throw up noisily into the bowl.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand as angry tears fill my eyes. I’m so angry at myself for being this stupid… this reckless.
I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the wall behind me as my forehead pounds from the alcohol I consumed last night.
I don’t know what the hell is going to happen from this moment on. Nothing is the same as it was yesterday, but I do know one thing. I can’t sit on the floor of this hotel bathroom forever.
Eight weeks later
I wish I could say I hadn’t seen this coming, but the two pink lines staring back at me have been waiting to be confirmed for the past month and a half.
I’ve been sick, moody, my boobs have been killing me and I can smell everything.
The universe is one cruel bitch when it really comes down to it. Jacob and I tried for just over a year to have a baby… and nothing. I slept with Ryan once and I couldn’t be any more knocked up.
“Two lines means negative, right?” Freya asks with a grimace as she waves the pregnancy test around before glancing at it again to confirm what we both already knew.
I huff out a humourless laugh.
On the one hand, I’m beyond excited that I’m going to be a mother. It’s literally all I’ve wished for since I was a little girl, but I wanted the family experience, not the single mother with a questionable baby daddy package.
This is all kinds of complicated, and a big part of me was holding onto hope that maybe I was having all these symptoms out of stress, rather than it being due to a foetus holed up in my uterus. It’s been a brutal eight weeks – not only have I grieved the loss of my relationship, but I’ve stressed about the choice I made that night.
That’s the reason I waited this long to pee on a stick. In fact, I only went through with it today because Freya finally lost her patience with me and demanded that I ‘just do it already’.
So here I am, officially pregnant.
“Sorry I’m late, did you check it yet?” Steph calls out as she flies through the door of Freya�
��s apartment in a rush, the door slamming shut behind her.
Freya rolls her eyes at Steph. “I don’t know why you even apologise for being late anymore.”
“Because it’s the polite thing to do.” She tosses her bag onto the table as she crosses the room towards us.
“The ‘polite thing to do’ would be turning up on time,” Freya mutters as Steph plucks the test from her hand.
“I told you.” She points her finger at me as she takes in the positive result.
I don’t answer, just sink further into the couch I’ve been sleeping on for the past eight weeks and cover my face with a pillow. “What a mess.” I groan. “What the hell am I doing with my life?”
“Oh, here we go again.” I can hear Steph’s disapproving look through her tone. “Pity party for one.”
I throw the pillow in the direction of her voice.
“My husband ran out on me at the altar, I have no house, no money and now I’m knocked-up to his fucking brother!” I yell at her.
She throws the pillow back at me. “Get some new stories,” she says with a grin. “We’ve heard those ones already.”
I bite back a laugh. Nothing about it is funny really, but that’s the beauty of Steph; she can make me feel better about my depressing life in her own way.
I don’t know what I would have done without the two women in front of me during all of this.
“So... when are you going to tell him?” Freya asks.
“Well… I was thinking... never?” I reply weakly.
“You can’t not tell him, D.”
“Technically I could.”
“Shut up, we all know you’re not going to have this man’s baby and not tell him, so cut the bullshit and let’s make a plan.”
“I don’t even know how to find him,” I argue.
“Lies. You Googled him three weeks ago. You know exactly where to find him.” Freya looks at me with a no-bullshit expression written all over her face.
“How do you know that?” I demand, shocked.
“You borrowed my laptop, sweetie. Google search history is a thing.”
I narrow my eyes, glaring at her. “Fine.” I groan. “I know where to find him. Down at the bar. Jacob never told me that Ryan actually owns R&R’s. I thought he just worked there.”
“I think there’s other things you should be considerably more worried about that Jacob wasn’t telling you,” Steph quips.
I flip her off with another bit-down grin. Again, it’s not funny, and I’m still so hurt over what Jacob did to me, but what I never expected was to feel relieved… like I can finally drop the act that I’ve realised my life had become. I feel more like me than I have in years.
“Okay, so you’re going to just head downtown to his bar and tell him. Easy.”
“Oh yeah, that’ll be a real barrel of laughs… ‘Oh, hi, Ryan, you remember that time we wrote a contract on a page ripped out of a bible? Yeah. I’d like to enforce that. Oh, but I’ve already broken rule three, and rule two is irrelevant’.”
“Hold up, on a page of a bible?” Freya demands at the same time that Steph laughs and mutters, “no wonder you’re having bad luck.”
I silence them both with a death glare.
“What?” Freya raises a brow at me. “That’s loose, just sayin’.”
I sigh heavily. “What’s even the point of telling him? He didn’t want to be a dad, he just wanted me to be a mum.”
“And you’re not telling him he has to be a dad. But you can’t bring a human into the world that shares his DNA and not tell him about it. It’s just not right. He’s a good guy, he deserves to know.”
She’s right. I know she is. There’s no way I’d do that to Ryan. He is a good man, and I’d never lie to him about something like this or withhold that type of information.
I’ve been mulling this over for weeks – another reason I’ve been so reluctant to take a test, because now it’s all real and I have to do something about it.
Sure, this baby in my belly was just as real yesterday as it is today, but yesterday I still had the luxury of possibly being wrong about it. Today has taken that from me.
“I’ll tell him,” I confirm. “Would have been great to have a couple of glasses of liquid courage before I did, but that’s obviously off the cards now too.” I roll my eyes.
“Can we just put aside the slightly odd predicament you’ve found yourself in for a second and talk about how much that little baby is going to love its favourite aunty,” Freya says excitedly.
“His favourite aunt Steph you mean?” Steph says, brow raised.
“Her favourite aunt Freya,” Freya corrects.
“I’m glad you’re both so excited, but can we maybe not count our chickens before they hatch? There’s a long time between a positive pregnancy test and a baby, you guys.”
“You’re right.” Steph nods. “Of course… you’re right. Let’s be sensible… But I’m going to buy him his first pair of kicks,” she blurts out.
I roll my eyes. Steph and sensible don’t really go together in the same sentence.
“Didn’t you say you had a meeting this afternoon?” Freya questions.
Steph glances at the watch on her wrist, which may as well not even go, given how utterly useless she is with checking the time.
“Shit. I’m late. Gotta go.” She flies out of her chair and kisses me on the cheek. “You’re going to be the best mum in the world.” She’s so sincere it almost brings a tear to my eye.
Steph might be a hot mess, but she’s the best friend a girl could ask for.
“How are you feeling?” Freya asks me as we watch Steph exit in much the same manner she entered.
“Scared, excited… sick.” I grimace.
I can’t tell if the nausea swirling in my stomach is morning sickness, or dread over the fact that I have to see Ryan again – that I have to tell him I’m carrying his baby.
The scary thing is, I already know what he’ll say. I can picture the tender look in his eyes. He’ll wear the same expression he did that night.
If I’m being honest with myself, it’s not just telling Ryan I’m pregnant that scares me, it’s what happens after that. I haven’t stopped thinking about the night we shared; I can’t forget the way he made me feel.
I can’t stop myself from wanting to do it again.
“You really will be great, D, and we’ve got your back, you know that, right? With anything.”
I do know that. The lengths that the three of us would go to for each other is immeasurable. The two of them having my back is the only thing I know for certain these days.
I smile at her, tears of gratitude blurring my vision.
“Do you want me to come with you to talk to him?”
I shake my head. I appreciate the offer, but this is something I know I have to do on my own.
6
Ryan
“Rebel?” I call down the hallway into the back room, trying to locate my business partner and best friend.
“Two seconds!” she yells back.
I wait where I am, my eyes scanning the sheet of paper I’ve just been handed by our bar manager.
We’re a relatively new establishment still, but I don’t think anyone anticipated what a success we’d be. Thursday through Sunday we’re packed to a level that is almost uncomfortable. The booze we brew on site has won us a shit load of awards already and since then, production has gone through the roof to keep up with demand.
It’s everything I could have hoped for and more. This place has basically become my entire life, yet there’s still something missing that I can’t quite put my finger on.
My mind flashes to Darcy’s face, and I know I’m lying to myself. I know exactly what’s missing, but it’s something I’m never going to have, so I do my best to ignore it. After all these years, I’ve got pretty good at that.
It’s been eight weeks since the day of her wedding… since the night we slept together.
I spent the two weeks
that followed in a zombie-like state, hoping she’d come and find me – tell me she had figured it all out… that she’d realised we were meant to be together.
That never happened.
Once a month passed, I gave up any and all hope. I haven’t had a lot of experience with pregnancy in my life, but I know that it doesn’t take this long for a woman to get a positive test, or at least a missed period or whatever. That only meant one thing. She wasn’t pregnant. It didn’t work.
It was all for nothing. I broke my own heart, yet again, and she didn’t even get the thing she wanted most in the world out of it.
“I talked to JT about adjusting the temperature for that brew, he’s going to do it once he gets done with the dinner rush.” Rebel is standing in front of me when I look up.
I hear her, but I’ve obviously been distracted at some point during the evening, because I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“Sounds good,” I reply, hoping that’s the right answer.
She gives me a brief questioning look before brushing past me and pushing the door open into the bustling restaurant.
We’re best known for our in-house brewed beer, but we have a killer menu too.
It’s a Wednesday, not one of our busiest nights typically, but most of the tables are filled with dinner patrons regardless.
“Did Andi get the produce order done?” I ask.
Rebel doesn’t answer me.
“Reb?”
She’s stopped dead in her tracks, staring across the room, her cat-like eyes narrowed.
“I’ve never actually met the woman, but is that…”
I follow her line of sight as she speaks and everything fades to a blur as I take in the sight of Darcy Shearer, standing inside my bar, talking to my front of house staff.
Time slows down as Kat points in my direction, showing Darcy where to go, and I meet eyes with the woman who has been on my mind virtually non-stop for far longer than I’d care to admit.
The First Rule: A Standalone Second Chance Romance Page 4
