“Not a good idea in her condition, honey. You don't want to upset Beth,” Derrick said, sounding resolved. He approached Brady and ran a gentle hand over the baby's bald head. The gesture conflicted with the man's dark personality.
“But‒”
“Afterwards, Court,” Derrick said, his tone not to be argued. “I will not have you blamed for something happening to Beth's pregnancy. You don't want that either. The wedge between you and Sean is large enough. Correct?”
Courtney bit her lip and nodded, though it was obvious she was reluctant to submit.
“Good girl,” he said and kissed her forehead.
“Derrick, I'm not a dog.”
He chuckled and took her chin. “But you are my good girl.”
Whatever inside meaning behind that exchange, where the couple shut out everyone around them in their private moment, had Courtney blushing.
Lynn's thoughts automatically and inappropriately went to Ryan, imagining it was the two of them in their own moment. Brady on her shoulder. Him gripping her chin and looking at her lovingly.
Ashamed of that wrong direction her mind went, she shook off the thoughts and glanced at the floor to clear her mind.
She took a nudge to the shoulder from her brother. “What the hell is a matter with you?”
She shrugged, wondering the same thing.
***
Seven in the evening and Lynn looked at the clock for the hundredth time. Ryan was three hours late from work. No call. No text. Nothing.
Sean had called the hospital and was informed that his brother left work on time.
“Where could he be?” Lynn asked.
Sean's eyes bounced from Beth, who lay uncomfortably on the sofa, back to her. He sighed, clearly exasperated. “Probably at happy hour with his buddies.”
“Wait,” she screeched out a noise she'd never heard come out of her body before, “you mean to tell me he's out at a bar while I'm watching his son?” A totally rhetorical question.
“Yes.”
“Which bar?” she asked icily. Man, her blood was on fire. That motherfucker. How dare he? Talk about irresponsible. The very least he should have done was contact her to ask if she was able to stay late so he could go out for a drink or two. But even that pushed the boundaries of respectable father behavior. The man had a newborn son at home he needed to bond with. How the hell was he going to do that at the bar?
Sean gave her the name of the bar and where it was located. Lynn took all of five minutes to pack up Brady and leave the house, entirely aware Sean didn't try to prevent her from leaving.
Fifteen minutes later she parked her car in the packed parking lot of the sports bar. She'd found Ryan's Lexus two rows down but wasn't able to park nearby. She scrambled out of the car and pulled Brady out of his car seat in the back. Of course he was sound asleep. Place Brady in the car, and he always went out for the count within seconds.
Storming into the bar with the month old baby in hand, Lynn caught some odd glances. Yeah, what kind of woman would bring a newborn into a bar on a Friday night? One that was genuinely pissed off.
She located Ryan standing with a group of men, who surrounded a group of younger women. He was leaning close to a tiny redhead, his arm wrapped around her waist, a beer in the opposite hand. Lynn watched him lean in and kiss the side of her neck.
Her chest constricted.
She had to look away. Reasonably Lynn understood she had no claim to Ryan. Hell, they had no sort of relationship whatsoever except for an employment arrangement. But in her mind, heart, and female senses, it seemed as if they had something brewing between each other. He went out of his way to come to her place to take her out to breakfast. Nightly he invited her to stay for dinner, watch movies or sports. They talked as if they were best friends.
Maybe that's all that she'd been to him. Someone to talk to. Okay, she may have read too much into their interaction together. Damn it. Why was it so difficult to understand men? Once again she allowed herself to get sucked in even after promising to take a different path after the Robert debacle.
Shaking off the realization she'd been stupid when it came to Ryan, she stormed right up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Whoa,” someone said.
“Is that‒‒” another male voice said.
Ryan spun and blanched. “Lynn? What the fuck?”
She thrust Brady at him. “Here's your son who you should be home with, taking care of, instead of slumming it at the bar.”
Dropping his beer on the floor with a smash that had the brew bounce up and splatter all those nearby, Ryan handled his son as if he was a ticking bomb.
“Hey,” the redhead protested.
Lynn leaned past him to look her up and down. “Call it like I see it, sweetheart.” She refocused on Ryan. “You're an asshole. You don't deserve him.”
“I never wanted him,” he said acidly.
She took a shocked step back. “What?”
The bar seemed to grow silent, only the sounds of music and the bartenders working, like something out of a turning point scene in a movie. Except this was real life, and Ryan just said something no parent should ever allow to escape their lips.
“I never wanted him. I don't fucking want kids. He's a mistake. A mistake I never fucking asked for. I don't want to be a father. That's Sean, not me. I don't want this fucking, awful life,” he bellowed.
Surrounding them, the gasps and disapproving groans from the men and women were audible. How ironic the redhead now slid away from him.
“Well that's too fucking bad,” Lynn hissed. “Because he's here and he's yours. It's about fucking time you grow the hell up and take responsibility. He's your flesh and blood. He's your son. He's yours, period. You may not have wanted him, but he's here and he needs his father. Not some dumbass who's going to ruin his life by letting him know how much he's not wanted. I've watched you keep a distance from that innocent baby for weeks now. It's been horrible to witness and not say a fucking word.” She tossed the diaper bag at him. “I quit. I won't work for a self-centered asshole who treats his son like he doesn't exist. That baby is a blessing you should be embracing.”
With that, she spun on her heels and stormed out of the bar.
It didn't hit her until halfway home that she quit her job. Damn it. That fucking man. Her fucking temper. Shit, shit, shit. Now what did she do?
14
Ryan pulled up to the house, threw his car into park, and laid his head on the steering wheel. His life had turned into one giant cluster fuck. Now to top it all off, he lost his nanny. His dependable, caring, lovely, enthralling nanny. All because he was a bonehead. His body shook as he lost it right there seated in his car in the driveway. Brady deserved so much better than a despondent, inadequate father. He deserved a better life. One where at least one parent wanted and loved him.
Naturally, as if he could read his father's distress, Brady woke and started to cry. Numb, Ryan crawled out of the car, plucked his son out of his seat, and carried him inside. Neither Sean or Beth greeted him or said a word as he heated a bottle then took Brady upstairs to feed him.
Ryan sank into bed, his son cradled in his arms, and fed him while he allowed himself to lose his cool. It was something he'd never done. Ever. He didn't cry. But something inside of him broke. The fun loving, didn't take life too seriously, always flirtatious, life-of-the-party personality he possessed his entire life left the day he was forced to become a father. He felt as if he was mentally and physically falling apart.
***
Slowly Ryan blinked his eyes open, still in a fog. His body remained heavy as he fought consciousness. When had he fallen asleep last night? The last thing he remembered‒
Ryan jolted out of bed. Where was Brady?
Oh God, he didn't fall asleep and roll on him did he? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh God, oh God, please don’t let anything have happened to him. Please.
He scrambled around the bed, lifting the covers and tossing pillows. H
is heart was in his throat. He couldn't find him. Did he fall on the floor? He rushed around the bed. Nothing.
“Sean!”
Ryan ran from his bedroom across the hall to Brady's nursery and burst through the door. Sleeping peacefully, curled in a ball in his crib, was his son.
Collapsing to the floor next to the crib, he swore he'd had a heart attack. Thank God Brady was all right. His heart thudded through his chest as his blood rushed through his veins. He desperately tried to catch his breath.
Sean rushed into the room. “What's wrong?”
“I couldn't find Brady. I fell asleep and woke up and...” He couldn't continue. Never in his life had he experienced such gut wrenching fear. Even some of the deadly SEAL missions he'd been a part of didn't compare.
“When we came up to bed last night you were sleeping with him on your chest. I was afraid if you rolled, you might take him with you. I took him. You never even stirred, dumbass,” Sean explained, arms crossed over his chest. His hair was wet and he wore boxer briefs, as if he'd jumped out of the shower when he heard Ryan's call.
Ryan lifted his knees and lowered his head to his hands. “Oh, God, Sean, I thought I killed him. I thought…I thought….”
His brother, his support system, his voice of reason, was by his side in a flash, wrapping an arm around him and held Ryan’s trembling body.
“It’s all right, Ry,” Sean said softly. “He’s all right.”
Damn it, what a fucking pussy he’d become. In less than twenty-four hours, he'd turned into a sobbing idiot.
Then it hit him.
He’d panicked over Brady. Over his son. Since the day the baby had been born, Ryan tried to keep his distance. Almost like, if he did, then he’d wake up one day and it would all have been a nightmare. Meanwhile, he’d grown attached to Brady. After all, his world now revolved around the newborn who depended solely on him. How did he not see it before? Was he so stubborn that he refused to acknowledge Brady worked his way into his heart? That he’d forced Ryan into becoming a father. That he'd transformed the former playboy into someone entirely different.
Wiping his unmanly tears from his face, Ryan took a deep cleansing breath. It was time for him to step up. He had a son. He needed to grow a set and become the man that Brady needed. That baby, who slept soundly behind him, deserved to have the best of Ryan. He could teach him sports, how to play ball, how to drive, how to flirt with the girls, how to protect and defend his two cousins who would soon be joining him in the world, and what an honor it was to go into the military and serve his country, that is, if he chose that path like the Millen men before him.
“You okay?” Sean asked
He nodded. “I’ve fucked up everything.”
“No, you haven’t,” Sean disagreed. “Brady is safe, taken care of, and is loved. You’re doing all right.”
“But I need to do better.”
“I’m sure you’re not the first father to say that.”
Ryan leaned his head against the crib and closed his eyes. “I fucked up with Lynn.”
“Apologize and beg for mercy.”
Ryan snorted. “Cause that’s what you do?”
Sean shrugged. “My wife happens to be a saint. It works.”
“Lynn isn’t Beth.”
“That’s for sure. You’ve got your work cut out for you.” His jackass brother laughed evilly.
“Shit,” he grumbled. “I'm a dumbass.” How the hell did he beg Lynn to return to him and Brady? And why the fuck did it feel like he lost a piece of himself with her departure?
***
Sean stopped, looked over Ryan and Brady, who was nestled into the crook of his arm, and raised a brow. “Why is your son dressed like a clown?”
Ryan glanced down at his son's colorful outfit.
“Cauuuuse, he's wearing a clown suit,” he replied. Duh.
“It's not Halloween.”
“No.”
“Ryan?”
“Look at him. It's awesome. A. Clown. Suit.”
“Where did you find a clown suit in May?” Sean poured a cup of coffee.
“Mom and I went to Goodwill. Found an entire aisle of costumes.” He shrugged and smiled down at Brady.
“You went to the Goodwill?”
“Yeah.” He looked around. “Where's Beth?”
“She's still sleeping.” Sean sighed, clearly exhausted. “Poor girl, she can only lie on her side and even that's difficult. We tuck pillows around every part of her body to try and make her comfortable. That still doesn't work.”
“What does the doctor say?”
“She could go into labor any minute. She's already three centimeters dilated.”
“How are you feeling about that?” Ryan smirked, knowing the answer. Nothing like his former Navy SEAL brother getting knocked on his ass by two newborn twin girls and their mother. Man, Sean was in for a world of trouble with his girls. Those three ladies would have him wrapped around their fingers.
“I'm fucked.”
Ryan burst out laughing, startling Brady, who let out a tiny yelp. He rearranged the baby to place on his shoulder and soothe him.
After his epiphany a few days ago, Ryan had a new lease on life that included his son. And there was a noticeable difference in the aura between father and baby. Brady seemed more relaxed in his arms and when alone with him. He was definitely calmer and much easier to console. And he finally located the magic burp button. Why? Because Ryan cared. He cared that his son cried out. He didn't fight the emotion or feel burdened. When Brady was upset, Ryan felt the urge to do whatever was needed to fix what was broken. He'd break his damn back to do whatever necessary to ensure his son's happiness. Which included getting Lynn to return.
“Are you going somewhere?” Sean asked.
“To try and get Lynn back.”
Sean studied him with that knowing gaze he'd received from his brother countless times. “Are you in love with her?”
“I can't say that.” He shook his head. “All I know is my day feels empty without her.” He paused. “And I'm pretty sure Brady misses her.”
“Why wouldn't he? She's been the mother-figure in his small amount of time on this earth.” Sean took a casual sip of his coffee, but Ryan knew better. His brother wasn't done probing. “How are you going to beg?”
“Diamonds.”
Sean spat out of his coffee. “What? You aren't proposing?”
“No, ass. Earrings. Ear. Rings. Why the hell do you have to go straight for the ring? Is that your answer to everything? Good lord.” He shuddered.
Sean flung a dishrag at him.
Ryan pegged him with a finger. “You know you did that with Beth. She's mad. Here's a pretty diamond. Please forgive me.”
“I'm kicking your ass. My Beth was meant to be my wife.”
“Whatever.” He smirked, knowing he was pushing his brother's buttons. One of his favorite past times. It'd been too long since he'd had fun at Sean's expense.
“Sean,” Beth yelled from upstairs.
“Better grab a ring to take up to her.”
Sean rounded the island and punched him in the lower back.
“Fuck!” Ryan buckled. “Damn it, Sean, I'm holding Brady.”
His brother was out of the kitchen before he could retaliate. Asshat.
Gingerly Ryan made his way to the living room bassinette and laid Brady down so he could massage his back. Just wait. He'd get his brother. Maybe shave off an eyebrow or something else stupid and juvenile. Yeah, let Dr. Millen go to work with one brow. That'd teach him.
Brady looked up at him, his large eyes trying to focus on the big form looming above. “Yeah, Daddy's going to get your Uncle Sean. Yes, he is. He's going to teach him a lesson,” Ryan cooed. “But we'll think about that later. We've got a job to do today. We need to get Lynn back, right? Right.” He reached down and adjusted the pom-poms attached to the costume. “What woman could resist my little man in a clown suit?” Hopefully not the woman he needed and wanted back in
his life.
15
Lynn’s apartment doorbell buzzed, interrupting her online search for a job. Four days since she’d quit, and she’d heard nothing from Ryan. To say that she was disappointed was a gross understatement. Her heart felt broken. Which was ridiculous. Don’t you have to actually have a relationship first before you go through the breakup misery? So much for her not being an idiot. Another reason to be thoroughly pissed off at herself.
Schlepping to the door in her oversized slippers and grey plaid lounge pants with matching tee, Lynn glance through the peephole. Her heart raced. Her world stopped.
Ryan stood, his larger-than-life muscular frame, on the opposite side of the door.
But what did he want? Did he want her back? Did he want her back only to work? Did he miss her like she missed him and Brady? Did he only want to apologize?
A knock on the door interrupted her obscene pondering.
“Lynn, open the door. I heard you approach. You’re wearing slippers, right?” Ryan said from the other side.
Damn former SEAL and his amazing hearing and wherewithal of his surroundings.
She flung the door open, blinked, and burst out laughing. “Why is Brady in a clown suit?”
Ryan grinned, his face and amazing blue eyes lighting up. In fact, his features looked noticeably younger with far less lines and dark circles under his eyes. His shoulders were relaxed instead of up by his ears, and his stance was casual cocky, not slouched ready to chew off someone’s head.
“What is it with people asking that? It’s a clown suit. Clown. Suit. Why wouldn’t I have him in it? Look at him,” he said proudly.
“Ryan? What’s going on?”
“Can I come in?” His eyes looked pleading.
She hesitated. Was it a good idea to entertain him? Who knew? She sighed and waved them inside. Curiosity and hope got the better of her. Maybe one day she'd learn. Guess today wasn't that day.
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