by Lexi Ryan
“Those look good,” he says. “Now how about cutting up the veggies?”
He stands behind me again, this time showing me how to curl my fingers in so I don’t cut my fingertips off while I’m chopping. I want the moment to last longer than it will—his body against mine, his breath in my hair, his hands guiding mine. If I could just slow down time, maybe I’d have time to mentally catalogue everything his nearness does to me, the buzz along my nerve endings amplifying every brush of his thumb against mine, the heat of his chest at my back reminding me of lazy Sunday mornings in Laguna and stretching out between cool cotton sheets.
Sooner than I want to be, I’m finished and sliding the vegetables into a second bowl.
“We’ll just throw all this stuff in the skillet to sauté it before we add it to the eggs.”
I nod and watch him do this part, enjoying the way his hands deftly move the ingredients into the pan and toss them around with a flick of his wrist.
I’ve watched Keegan on the football field over the last year, gotten to see him excel at the sport that he loves. As much as I enjoyed seeing him in pads and a helmet throwing guys around like they weigh twenty pounds, it’s nothing compared to how he moves in the kitchen. On the spectrum of things that make him completely irresistible to me, there’s nothing that compares to his abilities in the kitchen or the pictures on Instagram where he’s holding his baby like she’s the most precious gift he’s ever received.
He’s the full package. A kind father and a caring friend, with a mind for business and a work ethic that put him on the field when most men in his position wouldn’t have seen game time for at least another year. As far as I’m concerned, he’s the real modern Superman.
“So you’re telling me no one picked up where I left off with your cooking lessons?” he asks as he stirs the contents of the pan.
“No offense to your teaching skills, but the things I learned last time you tried to give me cooking lessons had nothing to do with food.”
His grin falls away as his gaze drops to my lips and his eyes grow darker. He doesn’t look away, and I hold my breath. Suddenly, there’s nothing I want more than to feel his kiss again. Did our night in Vegas really happen less than two weeks ago? It feels like a lifetime. I was reckless and careless, but being with him was one of the most honest things I’ve ever done.
He cups the side of my face in one big hand and my lips tingle in anticipation of his kiss.
There’s a sharp knock on the front door, followed by the scrape of a key in the lock, and Keegan jerks back as if I’ve burnt him. He blinks at me and draws in a ragged breath.
“Keegan, I know you’re in there. Would you come here and help me with the freaking door?” It’s a woman’s voice.
Keegan gives me one last long look before heading to the front door, where a girl my age with long, dark hair and pretty brown eyes is pushing into the living room with a baby in her arms. “I hope you have some extra binkies, because I forgot them. What do you say we put this kid down for a nap and climb into bed together for a little midmorning stress relief?”
She drops a bag by the door and looks at me for the first time. She frowns. “Who are you?”
If I knew the answer to that question, I might not be here right now. Or maybe I would. Maybe I’d have moved here with Keegan five years ago. I turn to Keegan, who looks as baffled as I feel.
“Oh my God!” The girl’s eyes go wide and her jaw goes slack. “You’re Lucy. I mean, Emma Rothschild.” She glances over each shoulder—hoping someone else might be there to confirm who I am or thinking there might be a camera, I’m not sure. “Holy shit. You ran away from your wedding and came to Keegan?”
“Um…” That’s the moment it clicks. I take in the baby’s face and realize who she is. That’s Keegan’s baby. I lift my gaze to meet hers. “You must be—”
“Olivia.” She stalks toward Keegan, her face angry. “You don’t tell me anything.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Keegan
Emma frowns as her gaze darts between me and Olivia. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and I think about how close I was to kissing that mouth, how jealous I am that she gets to taste her lips and I don’t.
My life is officially off the rails. I was about to kiss a woman who’s supposed to be married to a United States senator, and my baby’s mother just walked into my house and offered a booty call. Seven or eight months ago, climbing into bed with Olivia just because she was down to fuck was nothing unusual, but I put a stop to that when she started dating Dre.
What the hell is going on?
I take Jazzy from Olivia’s arms. “I thought you were staying with your mom this trip.”
Jazzy reaches up to smack my cheeks, and I press a kiss to the top of her head. I catch a whiff of strawberry baby shampoo. Something about the smell helps me stay calm despite the fact that my life feels like it’s a disaster.
“We’re fighting,” Liv says. Her eyes skim over Emma. “Is that my maternity dress? Oh my God, are you pregnant? Does Zachary know?”
Emma winces and her cheeks turn pink. “I…” She squeezes her eyes shut, and when she opens them and looks at me, they’re full of hurt, as if I’ve played some nasty trick on her. “You two probably need to talk. I’ll get out of your way.” She turns and quietly retreats to the guest bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Olivia pours herself a cup of coffee and leans against the counter, casual as fuck, as if she didn’t just blow in here like a tornado and make a bigger mess of my life. “Keegan, you’ve got some explaining to do.”
“I told you Emma’s an old friend. I told her she could stay here until she gets some things sorted out in her life.”
She arches a brow. “Sure. And what does her fiancé think of her staying with her ex-boyfriend or whatever the hell you are to her?”
I don’t have a clue. “What are you and your mom fighting about?”
She rolls her eyes. “Not a subtle change of subject, Kee. You are such a hypocrite! You freaked out when I was taking Jazzy to Dre’s without telling you, but now you’ve brought your ex-girlfriend—whatever—into our daughter’s life without giving me the slightest warning.”
I fold my arms. “Jazzy has been with you since Emma got here, so that really doesn’t apply.”
“She’s staying in my daughter’s home,” she says, her eyes scanning the kitchen and living room as if she’s looking for evidence that Emma’s made it unfit for her baby. “I had a right to know.”
“It all happened really fast, Liv.” I put Jazzy down, and she half runs, half stumbles to her baby dolls in the living room. With a doll under one arm, she happily shoves a rubber giraffe in her mouth and gnaws on it, and I grin at her before standing and returning to my conversation with Olivia. “I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you about it, but I honestly wouldn’t have known what to tell you. I didn’t know she was coming. I don’t even know how long she’s staying.”
“Fine.” Sighing, she steps forward and slides a hand under my shirt and around my back. “What do you say about my naptime plans? Jazzy should be ready for her nap soon.”
I step away from her touch. Everyone thinks Olivia is Little Miss Innocence because she’s got this girl-next-door look about her, but she’s much more than meets the eye. “Liv…”
“You’re no fun anymore, Keegan. I remember when you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”
“I told you I’m not fucking you as long as you’re with Dre.”
She smacks her lips and grins. “Then it’s my lucky day, because I’m not with Dre anymore. So there.”
I blink at her. “What happened? As of when?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and then he told me he was going to fly here with his kids to spend time with me and Jazzy, and I freaked out. The more he tries to make us like a family, the more I realize…” She looks away.
“The more you realize what?”
“It’s just not what I
want from him, okay? I thought it was, but if I’m his family, I can’t be yours.”
Jesus Christ. How long have I wanted Liv? How hard did I try to make her give us a chance? And now that Emma’s shown up and thrown a giant, confusing, and complicated wrench in my life, Liv is going to play this game again. Since I found out Olivia was pregnant a couple of summers ago, she has done a fantastic job of keeping me on the hook. One day, she makes it clear she doesn’t want me. The next, she gives me just enough to hold on to hope that we might be a family. I thought we’d moved past that when I caught her fucking Dre in my bed. “Here we go again,” I mutter.
“What?” She squeezes my arm. “I know I always got frustrated with you. I felt like you didn’t open up to me, but I can be patient.” She sweeps the back of her hand up my arm and back down. “Come on. Let’s put the baby down and have some fun. It’s been so long.”
“Emma’s in the other room, Liv.”
She stiffens. “The actress who just ran away from her wedding to a guy who’s way out of her league and who’s currently wearing my maternity dress? She is the reason you’re not going to fuck me?”
I set my jaw. “You’ve always expected me to be there whenever it was convenient for you. I always have been, but…” I shake my head. “You and me, on and off? That’s not good for either of us, and it’s definitely not good for Jazzy. You’ve never been interested in giving me more than sex.”
“You don’t know that.” Her eyes fill with tears, and I feel like a grade-A asshole. “Can’t you just be honest with me? Are you and Emma together?”
“You said it yourself. She was supposed to marry someone else this weekend.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“We aren’t together. We’re friends. She needed a favor, somewhere to go.”
“Are you fucking her?”
“No.” I clench my teeth, frustrated that I have to have this conversation. It would be one thing if I were evading, but I don’t have the answers. I don’t know what’s happening, and instead of waiting until Emma can explain herself, Liv is going to push the issue.
“You wanna be, though.” She turns and stares at the closed bedroom door before turning back to me. “What does she have that I don’t?”
“Don’t. Don’t pull this on me. That’s not fair. For two years, I tried to be with you. I did everything I could for you to take me seriously, and—”
“Bullshit. You did everything except open up to me. How am I supposed to be with a guy who can’t even talk about his past, who doesn’t trust me enough to tell me why he hates his mother or why he won’t introduce me to his own father?”
“My father’s a piece of shit. Don’t make this about him when you couldn’t handle that I was never going to be pulling seven figures.”
“I was immature.” She folds her arms. “But so were you. Did you even realize that until your dad told me, I didn’t know he wasn’t your biological father? That’s always been our problem, Keegan. You wanted me, but not really. Do you know how lonely it is to be with someone who doesn’t share themselves?”
“I’m sorry.”
She looks to the bedroom door. “When you two were together, did you love her?” Her voice is a bare whisper now, and it cracks on the word love.
I nod. Olivia’s right. I never did open up to her, and I owe her this much truth. “Yeah. I did. Completely.”
“And now?”
“When you love someone completely,” I say softly, “it doesn’t go away with time or because they move on.” I meet her watery eyes, and her tears cut me in two. I let out a long breath. “Everything’s just really complicated right now.”
“Are you cool with me staying here?” She takes a breath. “I kind of made a big deal about storming out of my mom’s, and I’d rather not go back yet if I don’t have to. But if you and Emma Rothschild need some privacy—”
“Liv, it’s fine. You know you and Jazzy are always welcome. Since Emma’s in the guest bedroom, you can use the extra bed in the nursery.” I spent a lot of nights sleeping on the twin bed in there when Jazzy was a newborn and waking every two hours. It was easier to be close.
“Okay.” She reaches out and trails her fingertips down my chest. “You know where to find me if you change your mind about the rest. We always had fun together.”
Maybe nothing will happen between me and Emma, but even if her coming to me doesn’t mean anything, every ounce of desire in my blood in this moment is directed at the redhead in my guest bedroom. Olivia deserves better than that.
* * *
Emma
I’m so mortified that I feel like I want to crawl into the closet and hide. I’m so embarrassed that my cheeks may be stained this vibrant red for the rest of my life. His daughter’s mother is picture-perfect gorgeous, and I’m wearing her maternity dress.
There’s a knock on my bedroom door. “Em?” Keegan’s voice, low and gravelly. An hour ago, if he’d knocked on my door and said my name like that, I would’ve tripped over myself trying to open it as fast as I could. Right now, I want to tell him to go away.
Unfortunately, this is his house, and I don’t feel like I can ignore him. I climb off the bed. “Come on in.”
He comes in and closes the door behind him. It’s a nice-size bedroom, but now that he’s in here with the door closed and there’s nothing but this bed between us, it feels much smaller. “Are you okay?”
“I thought you said you and Olivia weren’t together.”
He leans against the door and sighs. “We’re not.”
“You just sleep together sometimes?”
He draws in a ragged breath and drags a hand through his hair. God, he’s so handsome. Out of my league. I tried not to listen, and I couldn’t hear everything they said, but I heard her describe Zachary as out of my league. She’s right. And if Zachary is out of my league, then Keegan is too—by leaps and bounds. “We used to,” he says. “We weren’t together, together when she moved to Florida with me, but…” He shrugs. “The bedroom was one place we always got along.”
“Casual sex.” I feel like I’m testing the words on my tongue, trying to make myself wrap my mind around the idea of Keegan consistently engaging in sex without emotional attachment. Maybe if I can do that, I’ll stop imagining our weekend in Vegas meant more to him than it did.
You were both trashed, Em. Stop putting meaning where there is none.
“It wasn’t healthy,” he says. “I’m not saying it was. I wanted more from her; she wanted me to expect less.” He shakes his head. “It’s probably for the best that Dre came along and I put a stop to it.”
“You put a stop to it?”
He arches a brow. “Yeah.”
“Oh.” I frown. “She would’ve kept sleeping with you even though she was with him?”
“Probably.” He leans his head back and stares at the ceiling. “I can’t judge. The first time Olivia and I slept together, she was with Chris.”
I frown. “Chris Montgomery? Grace’s Chris?”
He chuckles. “Yeah. That one. He didn’t like me much. I never meant for it to happen, but…” He looks me over. “I guess I have a habit of being attracted to emotionally unavailable women.”
I don’t know if he means to aim so low, but that hurts. He’s not just referencing Zachary and Vegas. He’s talking about five years ago when he thought there was something between me and Harry. Five years ago, when he saw what no one else could see.
“I’m completely in the way by being here.” My gaze darts to my phone on the bedside table, where I was searching local hotels while he and Olivia talked.
“It’s fine,” he says.
“No. It’s not. And to make matters worse, I never stopped to think about how showing up on your doorstep would affect your life.” I fold my arms and pace the length of the bedroom. “You told me in Vegas how much you wanted things to work between you and Jasmine’s mother.”
He shakes his head. “Wanted. Past tense. It’s no
t that simple anymore.” He drops his gaze to the floor and mutters what I think is, “It never was,” but his words are so soft I can’t be sure. When he lifts his gaze, his eyes search my face. “Why did you come to me? Of everywhere you could have gone, why me?”
“Where else would I go? My best friends are Becky and her brother, the man I was supposed to marry.”
“Yes, Zachary,” he says, voice tight. “You’ve mentioned a couple of times now that he’s your best friend. He’s so fucking amazing and kind. And yet here you are.” He draws in another deep breath as if searching for patience. “Listen, I’m sorry about all this. I just wanted you to know that I told Liv she can stay here, but that doesn’t change anything. You’re still welcome to stay as long as you need.”
Were you about to kiss me when she came to the door? Would you be kissing me now if she hadn’t?
I stop pacing. “I could just get a hotel room.”
“Did you really drive here all the way from Savannah so you could sleep in a hotel room?”
“No, Keegan. I didn’t. I drove all the way here from Savannah because you left that note for me.”
“Fuck.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to screw up your life. Vegas and then the note. That note was my way of telling you that I was okay with it all. That I just wanted you to be happy.”
“I know.” I swallow. “Listen, if you have a ball cap I could borrow, I think I’ll go to the store.”
“Sure. Of course.” He waves toward the kitchen. “We never finished making breakfast.”
“I’ll be okay. I want to grab a few things so I don’t have to keep wearing this maternity dress.”
“I didn’t realize that’s what it was.” He frowns. “That really bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“It would bother any girl.”
Shrugging, he drags his gaze down to my toes and slowly back up. “I think you look amazing.” The corner of his mouth quirks into a lopsided grin. “Then again, I thought you looked amazing in my T-shirt.”
