by Kate Stacy
Speed forgotten, I’m already forming a plan. I cannot stand to see this girl upset like this.
“Okay, baby.” The endearment slips out without thought. “Try to calm down now. Give me a second to talk to my partner and we’ll get you to the hospital, okay?”
I wait for her to acknowledge me, which she does with a nod, and I hurry back to the cruiser to talk to Morris. I need to explain the situation to him, and hope he understands.
“Her sister was rushed to the hospital. The one that’s pregnant.”
That’s all it takes for him to slide over to the driver seat and flip on the lights.
“What are you waiting for?” he asks.
He doesn’t have to ask twice.
I go back to Camille, leaning down so I’m eye level with her. “We’re gonna escort you to the hospital so you can get there quickly, but I don’t feel comfortable with you driving because you’re distressed. Could you move to the passenger seat and let me drive? My partner, Officer Morris, is gonna go ahead of us so we won’t have to make any stops on the way.”
She nods without argument, but rather than moving over the center console, she opens the door to get out. When she does, I’m convinced that my eyes are playing tricks on me. Blinking a few times, I look at her again. Her abdomen is slightly rounded. I’m not imagining things.
Is she pregnant?
She doesn’t notice where my attention has gone. She’s obviously too focused on getting to the hospital, so I say nothing, despite the thoughts crashing through my head. I lean down, move the driver seat back and slide into the car. As soon as we’re both buckled, I pull back out onto the road and follow closely behind Morris.
I drive carefully, but the entire way to the hospital, my mind is plagued with questions.
Is she really pregnant?
I’m fairly confident that the answer to that particular question is yes.
How far along is she?
Is there a chance that the baby is mine?
I’ll get Camille to the hospital, but I won’t be leaving her there. I’ll stay as long as I have to because she and I need to talk. If there’s any chance of the baby being mine—I need to know.
The thought of her being pregnant with my baby is burned into my mind.
Strangely enough, I can’t help but to hope that it’s true.
Standing back, I lean against the wall just inside the door of the waiting room with my arms crossed over my chest. Now isn’t the time to talk, I know. But I also know that I’m not going home today without answers, or at the very least, her phone number. I’ve been waiting for three months to find this girl. Not about to let her ghost me again.
Camille rushes to a group of people, immediately ducking into the arms of a tall, tattooed guy whose back is to me. A spark of jealousy shoots through me, but I push it down. For all I know, this guy is her boyfriend. It’s been months since our night together and I have no claim to her.
Arms still wrapped tightly around her, he dips down, pressing his lips to the top of her head.
I watch, jaw locked tight, teeth grinding as my jealousy flares again, along with a dose of irritation. I recognize this asshole.
The bartender.
The one who “couldn’t” help me when I asked about her.
His head turns slightly, a flash of recognition in his eyes when they meet mine. Leaning down, he whispers something in Camille’s ear. She looks back at me for a fraction of a second before her attention is back on him. She nods, a touch of a smile appearing on her face. He says nothing but continues eyeing me from across the room.
I push off the wall, ready to go over and introduce myself since he’s obviously interested in who I am, but the double doors at the other end of the room open and a guy steps through. I can’t see him from where I’m standing, but Camille and the man turn, along with the third sister, and an older couple I assume are their parents. All eyes are on the newcomer as they wait with bated breath.
He starts talking, and everyone’s body language begins to mirror the good news he must be giving them. As the hugging starts, the group separates enough for me to have a clear view and I recognize him in an instant. This guy is the bartender from the night I met Camille. He must be her sister’s husband, which means there’s a possibility that the guy she’s standing next to is her brother, not a boyfriend.
Camille looks at me once more, says something to her sister’s husband, and disappears through the doors with her sister. She’s barely out of sight when my phone rings. It’s the ringtone I have set for Hannah, so I can’t ignore the call.
I step out into the hallway outside the door to take the call.
It’s no surprise she’s calling. Morris and I were headed back to the station for the end of our shift when Camille sped past us on the road. I should have been home by now, so of course Hannah is worried. I’m the only parent she has right now, and she understands the potential dangers of my job. I’m typically good about letting her know when I’ll be late, but today I was distracted for obvious reasons and forgot to send her a text.
I apologize, giving her a vague explanation as to why I’m not home on time. I hate not being able to give her an answer when she questions what time I’m coming home, but I’m always as honest as I can be with her.
“I have to stay here a while longer because there’s someone I need to talk to, but I promise I’ll get home as soon as I can.”
“Okay, dad. I’ll see you when you get home. Love you.”
“I love you too, baby girl. See you soon.”
As I end the call, I turn to go back into the waiting room, but I’m stopped in my tracks when I see who’s waiting for me.
“You’ve got a lot of fuckin’ nerve,” he says, fists clenched at his sides, body taut with tension. “Asking around my bar about my sister when you’ve got someone waiting at home for you? She doesn’t need that kinda bullshit in her life. You should walk away now if all you’re gonna do is hurt her.”
The brother.
I’m relieved this isn’t her boyfriend, even if he’s looking at me like he wouldn’t mind putting me six feet under. He wants to hit me. I’m pretty sure the only thing stopping him is the badge on my chest.
After hearing from Morris about his sister’s history, I understand why he’s so protective of all of them, but he’s got it all wrong here. He overheard my phone call and drew his own conclusions. I could set him straight, but I don’t owe this man an explanation, especially not before giving Camille one.
“I understand you’re protective of your sisters. I respect the hell out of you for it. What you heard wasn’t what you assume it was, but I’m not talking to you about my personal life before I have a chance to talk to Camille. You have no reason to trust me, but I have no intention of hurting her. In any way.”
He stares me down, sizing me up, saying nothing at first. I manage to mask my surprise when he does.
“If you so much as make my sister cry, I swear to all that is holy I will come after you with everything I’ve got.”
“You realize you’re threatening a police officer, right?” I ask with a raised brow.
“Man, I wouldn’t give a fuck if you were the President of the United States. I meant what I said.”
Gotta give the guy some credit. He doesn’t back down.
“Look…”
“Holden.”
“Holden.” I absently nod. “Okay. I’ll lay it out for you. My intentions aren’t bad—they never were. My one and only regret from that night is how it ended. I don’t know how much she told you, but things were left unsaid and as soon as I can talk to Camille, I’ll remedy that right away. After I talk to her, you can grill me as much as you want. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. But from the look of things, and your reaction to me...I’d say she and I have some important things to discuss. She deserves to hear my shit from me first.”
“Fair enough.”
He’s still
skeptical—I don’t blame him—but at least he’s giving me a chance to talk to her first.
A chance is all I really need.
ELEVEN
Camille
My hands tremble as Presley and I walk down the hall toward Madalyn’s hospital room.
I’m not nervous to see my sister, not now that I know both she and the baby aren’t in any immediate danger. No, I’m anxious as hell because the father of my baby, the sexy stranger from my one-night stand—whose name I still don’t know—is standing in the waiting room at this very moment and I have no idea what to say to him.
I cannot freaking believe he’s here.
Presley keeps looking over at me, but she hasn’t said a word since we left the waiting room. I’m sure she has questions, but I can’t read her. To be fair—I never can. I’m not even sure if she caught the interaction between me and Holden, or if she can simply tell that I’m on edge. Either way, I showed up to the hospital with a cop, and that alone raised a few brows.
Madalyn smiles when we enter the room.
“Hey sissy,” I greet her, happy to see she’s mostly in good spirits. I give her a good, long squeeze before I lean down to press a kiss to her belly. “We all wanna meet you, little bean, but it’s too soon. You gotta stay put in there for a little longer. Give yourself time to sprout.”
I move away, giving Presley her turn with Madalyn, who’s doing a commendable job hiding her worry, but I see through her cracks.
I love my sisters, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now, but I hate this hospital. This cold, sterile place is filled with nothing but bad memories. Too many times, we’ve had to sit next to a hospital bed occupied by Madalyn. I’m happy this visit has had a much better outcome than the others. She’s suffered too much already, lost too much.
I have my own little miracle to worry about now, too.
As luck would have it, my sisters aren’t going to give me time to dwell on unpleasant thoughts. Presley is still watching me carefully and Mads is looking back and forth between the two of us.
It doesn’t take her long to speak up.
“Well...we all know how I’m doing. Who wants to tell me what’s going on between you two? Something’s up.”
Like Presley, Madalyn’s stare settles on me.
I want—no, need—to talk about this, but I’m not sure where to start.
The silence stretches between us until Presley rolls her eyes with a scoff. “Our sister showed up to the hospital with a police escort.”
Madalyn’s eyes bug out and Presley snickers.
For someone so quiet, she sure likes to instigate.
I groan, burying my face in my hands.
“Oh, no no no. Don’t hold out on us now, Cami. This sounds juicy. Spill!”
Peeking between my fingers, I see they’re both staring at me expectantly, waiting for a story. Moving my hands, I rub my cheeks and blow out a heavy breath.
“It’s him.” I admit. “He’s my baby’s father.”
“Holy fuck, Camille!” Madalyn’s eyes widen as she bounces excitedly in the bed. “Oh my God! Your baby daddy is a cop? Is he hot? Oh, who am I kidding?” She turns to Presley. “Is he hot? Please tell me she’s got a hot cop for a baby daddy.”
“Calm down,” Presley laughs. “You’re gonna bounce that baby right out of you. We’re trying to prevent that from happening, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah. Quit stalling. Someone tell me if this guy is hot or not.”
Presley rolls her eyes again. “Yes, he’s hot as sin.”
Getting even more giddy, she claps her hands. “Oh! This is great! You should sneak back out there and get a picture of him for me. I need to see this guy. Cami! I thought you didn’t know who he was? How’d you find Officer Baby Daddy?”
Both sisters dissolve into fits of laughter.
Sighing, I drop my hands to my lap. They’re so exasperating.
“Y’all done yet?”
They quiet for a second, but one look at me has them laughing all over again.
“This...this..” Mads pauses, trying to catch her breath. “This is gonna make one hell of a story for your grandkids.”
I lose my battle, finally cracking a smile.
She’s not wrong. Not even in my wildest dreams could I imagine everything going down like this, but then again, my life has never been ordinary.
“Soooo...what’s his name?” Presley asks when she’s finally calmed herself.
“I still don’t even know. We didn’t actually get to that…”
I give them the rundown on how I got here. It only takes a couple of minutes to explain. When I’m done, my anxiety resurfaces. What do I really know about this guy?
I know he’s sexy as fuck and amazing in bed.
I know he’s a cop.
That’s it.
I literally know nothing else about this man and I’m carrying his child.
I’m freaking out.
I know I have to tell him. Beyond that, I’m terrified of the unknown. I don’t know how to tell him. I don’t know the man I’m having a baby with. I don’t know how he’s going to react. I don’t even know if he’ll want to be involved. If he does, I don’t know if I can rely on him, if he’s trustworthy.
I don’t trust easily. Life has made sure of that little fact. My past. Madalyn’s past. Hell, even the things Holden has been through.
I mean, sure...I trusted him with my body, but my heart, my soul, my mind—those are mine.
I know how ugly this world can be, and now I have an innocent child to think about.
It was only supposed to be one night. I wasn’t supposed to see him again. I damn sure wasn’t supposed to end up pregnant.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I admit.
“You have to tell him,” Presley firmly insists.
“No, I know. I never intended to keep it a secret.”
“Cami,” Mads says, taking my hand. “Talk to him, babe. I know you’re scared, and I get it. But you won’t know anything until you tell him.”
“Yeah, but then what? We’re complete strangers who are having a baby together. How is this supposed to work?”
Presley takes this one.
“There’s no instruction manual, Cami. Those questions can only be answered by you two as this baby’s parents. Take things one day at a time. Talk it out. Get to know each other. But remember, at the end of the day...the baby is his, too. The sooner you tell him, the sooner you can start to figure things out.”
Always the voice of reason.
I wasn’t sure what I’d find upon my return to the waiting room, but...it wasn’t this.
He’s still here. Sitting in the waiting room with Holden and Jaxson, talking and cutting up like old friends.
What kind of fuckery is this?
When I left this room, Holden was vibrating with tension. He recognized my escort as the guy who was asking about me in the bar. He asked, I confirmed, and we left it there. He was feeling some kinda way, but it wasn’t friendly. I worried what Holden might say to him, but I guess it wasn’t necessary. Seems they’re all good friends now.
He definitely has that way about him. I was immediately drawn to him, and that hasn’t changed. I guess his particular charm works on members of the same sex as well.
He notices me first, and I swear when he looks at me, I can feel it in my entire body. Something tangible sparks between us when our eyes meet.
My brother and brother-in-law stand when I make my way over.
“We’ll give you two some time to talk.” Holden says, hugging me briefly.
I stop him as he steps away.
“Actually, I’m not going to stay. I’m exhausted. I’m gonna head home now that I know Mads and the little bean are both out of harm's way.”
He watches me, searching for any sign of uncertainty. He’ll find none. If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that this conversation is not happen
ing in the hospital waiting room while my family hovers nearby.
Holden finally gives me a tight nod.
He doesn’t like it, but he won’t stop me from leaving.
“Let me know when you’re home safe,” he says, shooting a pointed look at the man behind me.
Turning around, I face the father of my baby. He steps forward, opening his mouth to speak, but I cut him off before he can utter a sound.
“Please,” A breath. “Before anything else...what’s your name?”
He chuckles. It’s deep, warm, and sends my hormones into overdrive. My eyes linger on his smile, those deep laugh lines forming in his cheeks. I’m reminded of exactly what attracted me to him in the first place. That fucking panty-dropping smile.
“Ryan Alexander,” he says, holding his hand out. I put my hand in his, but rather than shake, he uses it to gently pull me closer to him. Leaning in, he tenderly kisses my cheek. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Camille.”
My name from his lips does unspeakable things to my body.
Without thought, I reply, “The pleasure’s all mine.”
His smile grows wider, his eyes glittering with filthy amusement.
“That’s not...I didn’t mean…” I cover my face with my hands to stop my stuttered rambling, and to hide to deep blush I feel rising to my cheeks.
Another deep chuckle from him has me groaning and shaking my head. I drop my hands, daring to look at him once more.
“I don’t remember you being this nervous with me when we first met, Gorgeous,” he says with a grin. “How about a ride home?”
I bite back my retort about having a little liquid courage the first time we met. My mind gets caught on his question.
“But...I have my car?”
I phrase it as a question because he couldn’t have possibly forgotten pulling me over and driving me here.
“Right. Which is exactly why I could use a ride. I’m kinda stuck here since my partner had to go back to the station.”
Apparently, it’s me—not him—who’s slow on the uptake. I feel like such an idiot. Pregnancy brain is a real thing. Also, he has me completely flustered right now.
