But maybe I was selfish. Maybe it was all because it didn’t fit into the careful calculation I’d played out in my mind.
And now, after all, things are very different.
I put the trash bag down on the counter and pour a cup of water from the pitcher in the fridge as heat washes over me. I am suddenly flooded with regret, and that noxious anxiety I’ve been waiting for is invading my veins from somewhere deep inside my brain. I try to swallow my sip of water, but I feel my hands shaking as I grip the corner of the counter. My throat feels thick and dry and I finally get the water to go down, but it does nothing to calm me. It only makes me feel like there is something stuck inside my throat. In my chest. In my belly.
I’m a good mom. I do my best. But what if I could have done better?
I feel Sarah moving gently around the kitchen behind me as she continues to clean up. I think she knows I’m having a mini panic attack, and she stays close by, but doesn’t say anything.
I close my eyes and shake my head, and I feel heat well up behind my eyes. No, nope, I am not going to cry on Jacob’s birthday. I shut my eyes tight and blink away the tears. There is a knot inside my throat, but I am not going to cry. I am not going to let Jacob see me cry. Plus, I don’t want to ruin the bumble bee Dylan painted on my cheek.
I’m pulled out of my own head when I hear laughter coming from behind me. Wiping the corners of my eyes and turning around, I’m met with Dylan carrying Jacob over to me.
“Hey mama,” Dylan says, handing Jacob to me, “why don’t you go sit down? You’ve been on your feet all day. Let me clean up a little.”
Jacob wraps his little arms around my neck as I nestle him to my chest.
Dylan beams at me. My throat still feels tight and the tears are still hot behind my eyes, but I keep them where they belong - locked away. I won’t let them come out. Not right now. Maybe I can cry in the shower later, let everything out, but for now I force a smile at Dylan and bring Jacob into the living room to sit down and relax for a few minutes. Maybe I’ll even put my feet up.
Dyan grabs my cup from the counter and follows me into the living room. He strides right next to me, crossing the small kitchen. I feel his energy around me - clear, steady, and like a rock I want to tether myself to.
Jacob coos in my arms and reaches out to one of the balloons floating near the big window in the living room. Dylan grabs it by the wavy blue string it’s attached to and hands it to Jacob.
“There you go, man,” he says.
It’s strange, the way he talks to Jacob. He isn’t talking in a baby voice. He isn’t talking to him as though he’s is a kid. I don’t know if I should laugh and roll with it or tell him he’s talking to a baby and not one of his clients.
“Let’s get mama nice and comfortable,” Dylan says, grabbing a few pillows from the end of the couch, stacking them up. I sit down at one end of the couch and swing my feet up when he pats the pillows. “There you go. We have a nice little setup here for you guys.”
“Thank you,” I say, “thank you for everything.”
“Don’t mention it,” Dylan says, pushing his hair away from his face with a quick motion. He smiles at me and walks back into the kitchen. I can’t take my eyes off of him. Biting my bottom lip, I look at my son in my lap.
“What do you think of Dylan?” I say, but I might as well be speaking ancient Latin to him. I’d try, except I don’t remember anything from high school Latin.
In response, he just claps his little hands together. Or, he tries to. He doesn’t have the right level of coordination yet.
“Alright, fair enough,” I say, nestling him against my chest.
I look out the big window of the living room of my condo. I have a great view of New York City from here. I can’t believe I left it all behind, but at the same time I’m thankful for the way everything happened. I planned none of this, but I couldn’t imagine anything being better than this moment.
Well, except for one thing. There’s one thing that would make this day really perfect.
Certainty. I need certainty. I need to know who Jacob’s father is. And it’s not that I’m not afraid anymore. I am still afraid. Freaking terrified.
But I need to know. And I’m not the only person who needs to know.
I reach over to the coffee table to grab my water. I still have that knot in my throat, but the water goes down just a little bit easier.
“Hey Dylan,” I call over to him, “can we talk for a second?”
I don’t know what I am going to say to him. Hey, funny story, I think you might be my baby daddy. Yeah, I know we used a condom, but I also used condoms with Eric, so yeah, Jacob might be yours. Funny, right?
Okay, so now I’ve ruled out what I am not going to say.
There’s no easy way for me to do this.
Dylan starts back over to me with his signature smile and his irresistible swagger.
But then the doorbell rings.
I let out a big sigh, thankful for the distraction.
“Want me to get that?” Dylan says, throwing a thumb over his shoulder.
“Please,” I sigh.
24
Dylan
Time for the after-party?
This kid’s party ended up being a damn rager. I’ve never seen so many sugar highs before.
Before answering the door, I look over at Amanda and Jacob. This little kid is so damn precious, and the way Mandy looks at him makes my heart melt. It’s just too damn cute.
And it became super clear right away that if I am going to have Amanda in my life, I’m going to have Jacob in my life, too.
I am okay with that. I am way more than okay with that.
I was raised by my mom and my dad, and they were both awesome parents. There’s no other way to say it. They were just excellent, excellent people who unfortunately passed away too soon, both of cancer, and within two years of each other.
But I was also raised by my uncle. Well, step-uncle, but I would never call him that. He was just as much my family as my mom and dad were.
Uncle Tommy was an orphan. Uncle Tommy was raised by a single mom for the first few years of his life. I don’t know what happened to her, and it’s useless to speculate. All I know, and all the rest of my family learned, was that he ended up in the care of the state, and my grandparents - my dad’s parents - adopted him after my grandmother lost fertility due to complications after having my dad.
I learned everything from Tommy. I learned my art, I learned how to swim, I learned how to fish. I learned all the manly shit that’s made me good with my hands. I took over the shop from him - in a weird way, he gave me the first thing I loved. My shop will always be my first love. My baby. Nothing can replace it.
I’ve been alone for a long time, but there’s room in my heart to love something else. Someone else. And she’s been on my mind since the second I saw her.
I don’t give a shit that Jacob is someone else’s baby.
Smiling over at mama and baby, I go over to the door and look through the peephole. There’s a guy standing on the other side, in a blue and white button-down, a light blue tie, and khakis.
He must be a dad coming by to pick something up left behind by one of the moms or kids.
“Yeah, what’s up?” I ask through the door just to be on the safe side. He clearly isn’t an intruder. An intruder wouldn’t ring the doorbell. Can’t be too safe these days, though.
“I’m here to see Amanda,” he replies through the door.
I open up a crack, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Can I help you?”
There is a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, and his arms are hanging tensely at his sides. I glance over at Amanda and she’s playing with that balloon the kid’s obsessed with right now. If I don’t have to disturb her, I won’t.
“Yeah,” the guy says, “I’m here to see Amanda.”
I look the guy in front of me up and down. He isn’t threatening, but I don’t like the way he’s standing. He�
�s a little bit to close, a little bit too eager. He seems almost desperate.
“Is she expecting you?” I ask, stepping out into the hallway. He steps back slightly as I hold the door open behind me.
“Can you please just tell her Eric is here?” the guy says, his eyes meeting mine.
I feel my heart hitch inside my chest when he says his name.
Clearing my throat, I step all the way into the hallway, letting the door click closed behind me.
“I can pass a message along to her,” I say. I try not to let myself get too emotional, but all I can feel right now is contempt. I tamp it down, but it bubbles up in my veins. “She’s not available right now.”
“I have to speak to Amanda,” he says, attempting to take a step past me. I calmly put one hand out, but it doesn’t stop him. His chest hits my open palm. This fucking guy is not getting it.
“I said she’s not available.”
I could take this guy out in two seconds, but that’s the last thing I want to do right now. The last thing Amanda would want is her ex bleeding in her fancy hallway with the white carpets and champagne-colored wallpaper. Especially with Jacob around. Eric may be Jacob’s father, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to protect Jacob and Amanda from this cheating asshole.
Amanda is mine now, and I will protect her from anything, including something as simple as a nuisance ex.
Eric’s eyes trail up from my chest to my eyes, where he meets my glance with daggers. He slowly, methodically, wraps his hand around my wrist and removed my hand from his chest.
I’ll allow it, if it means he’s preparing to get the fuck out of here.
“Who are you?” Eric asks, cocking his head to the side. I watch as a look of disgust washes over his face, panting every corner of his expression. His lip snarls up into a noxious, twisted smile.
“That doesn’t concern you,” I say, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “and I think it would be best for you to leave now. I’ll tell Amanda you came by. Maybe next time you can try calling first before just showing up.”
“Wait. I know who you are,” Eric says, “I know exactly who you are.”
I feel the door click open gently behind me and Amanda’s soft presence wraps me up.
“Eric?” she says softly, “what are you doing here?”
“I came to talk.”
I turn around in what feels like slow motion to see Amanda standing behind me, the bee I painted on her cheek starting to bleed in yellow and black streaks with her tears. She blinks hard as her eyes flash from me to Eric.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” she says, “and I don’t appreciate you coming here unannounced like this.”
I step back, watching Eric carefully. What’s between him and Amanda is none of my damn business. It only becomes my business if he tries to hurt her or scare her. Then it becomes very much my business. And it’s my business right now because he showed up unannounced and I was quite fucking certain Amanda wouldn’t want her day ruined by him. But for now, I’ll let her handle it.
“We have to talk,” Eric says angrily, but with a determined calmness in his words, “you have to let me inside. I went by Dr. Belmore’s office the other day to pick up some records I had on file there from when you and I went to see her for a consultation. I ran into the Mastersons. They congratulated me on my son. They congratulated me on a fucking son I didn’t know I had.”
Looking over at Amanda, I feel my heart contract inside my damn chest when I see her face change. It becomes colored by something new - an emotion behind her eyes that I can’t detect. The storm inside her eyes is being replaced by something else, and I’m watching it all happen.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” I say, stepping between her and Eric, “and I think you should leave.”
I don’t know what he needs to say to her, but she doesn’t want to hear it. I don’t know if she wants to talk to him at another time, another place, but she doesn’t want to talk to him right now, unannounced, and that’s all that matters to me.
Eric’s glance passes over my shoulder to Amanda. Her hand comes up to my back and she grabs my shirt lightly, as if she is holding onto me as her life preserver.
“I know who you are,” he says to me again, his eyes meeting mine. His eyebrows are furrowed in the center and the sheen of sweat on his forehead is gathering at his temples. He turns his attention back to Amanda, shielded behind me. “Is this the fucking guy?”
“Who he is is none of your concern,” she says calmly, “and I’d like to remind you that I asked you to leave.”
Eric pushes one finger squarely into my chest, but he doesn’t break my strong stance. I feel myself grow hot with anger, but I will not escalate this any further in front of her.
“You’re the guy she slept with,” he sputters in my face before looking past me to Amanda again, “this is the guy you slept with, you slut.”
“That’s enough,” I say, the red hot anger inside me seeping into my chest.
As if in slow motion, Eric attempts to barrel past me toward Amanda. I am calm and measured, and though I didn’t want things to escalate, I grab Eric by the collar with one hand and push him against the wall next to me. His back lands against the wall with a heavy thud that shakes the wall and reverberates through my body. I can feel it in my teeth.
Eric’s eyes are big and wide and he looks fucking scared.
“Don’t come here again,” I say, pushing him against the wall, his feet dangling a few inches in the air, “and you don’t talk to her like that. Ever.”
I let go of his shirt roughly and he falls to his feet heavily. Without looking back at us, he hurries away. He must be smarter than he looks. Not smart enough to leave when first told, and we’ll see if he’s smart enough to leave her alone after today.
I turn around to take Amanda in my arms. She sighs heavily into my chest with a big, wet sob.
“It’s okay,” I say, trying to comfort her as best I can, “it’s okay.”
I kiss her head and run one hand over the back of her head, feeling her soft hair between my fingers, putting the other hand on the small of her back and pulling her to me. God, I can’t get her close enough to me. If I could, she wouldn’t feel any pain at all. I just want to kiss all of her damn pain away.
“Thank you,” she says, “I’m so glad you were here.”
“Me too,” I say, “I’m sorry you had to see that. We’re going to figure it out. You don’t have to allow him to see Jacob if you don’t want to. You don’t have to give him anything. We’re going to figure this all out.”
She looks up at me with aching pain behind her eyes, the blue irises ringed with slick redness and tears falling down her perfect cheeks.
“I don’t know if he’s the father,” she blurts out, her eyes roaming frantically over my face. She looks everywhere except at my eyes.
I swallow thickly. My heart feels full and my mind is swimming with confusion for a split second before the promise of the sweet, wonderful truth hits me like an anvil over the fucking head.
“Oh my god,” I say. I would say I’m in disbelief, but it’s not that. “There’s a possibility that Jacob is mine?”
“Yes,” Amanda sobs into my chest. “It’s possible. God, I am so fucking sorry, Dylan.”
“Hey,” I say, tipping her chin up, “eyes on me. Eyes on me, Amanda.”
I crush my lips against hers. I can taste her salty tears. I push my tongue against hers and get lost in her, and she gets lost in me.
“Eyes on me, princess.”
25
Amanda
One Week Later
“This view is pretty,” Dylan says, hands on his hips, feet slightly askance.
“It is nice, isn’t it?” I say, my hands wringing together in my lap.
I am a bundle of nerves, but I’m doing my absolute best to stay calm. I bite the corner of my nail as my toe taps involuntarily on the expensive-looking cream carpet in Dr. Monroe’s office.
; “You ever think you might want to move back to New York someday?” Dylan asks, turning to me. He crosses one leg in front of the other and leans back slightly on the windowsill. He’s trimmed his beard, but his hair is still a little long in front. I was into the bearded look when I first met him, but without the beard, you can see the strong jaw hiding under there even better. He’s probably the first tattoo artist to ever step foot in this hoity-toity Park Avenue office.
“I don’t know,” I reply, anxious for Dr. Monroe to come back to us with the results of the test. “Maybe after Jacob graduates high school. Maybe he’ll want to go to college in New York.”
“Yeah, and maybe we can follow him here. I don’t think I’d mind it much.”
He turns again and stretches his arm out wide, as if he’s taking in the view with his whole body and not just his eyes, as though he is feeling it and not just seeing it.
“And give up the shop?” I ask. “That thing’s your life.”
Dylan turns and comes over, sinking into the chair next to me.
“No, Amanda,” he says, “it isn’t.”
I watch as he scoots his chair closer to me and reaches over, taking my hands in his.
“Amanda…” he begins, but his word trails off as we hear the door to the office open behind us.
“Hello,” Dr. Monroe says brightly, sweeping into the room like a big, fluffy, elegant white cloud dressed in a sharp, slim navy blue suit.
“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice,” I say, my eyes trained on her as she comes around to sit at her desk. I have been a nervous wreck for the past week waiting for this. Unable to sleep, barely able to eat, and I even called in sick two days to stay with Jacob just because I felt like it. Dylan came by both of those days we we ended up just watching kid movies. Sarah even joined us.
Bad Boy's Baby: A Second Chance Secret Baby Romance (Boardwalk Bad Boys Book 1) Page 16
