by Kaylee Ryan
Her shoulders shake with silent sobs, and I kick myself in the ass for ruining our wedding night. “I’m sorry, baby. I don’t want to upset you or ruin this night, but I need you to know.”
“Ridge, this is the greatest gift. You are giving me the rights to your son. That precious little man.” She covers her mouth. “I love him. I couldn’t love him more if he were mine.”
“I know that.”
“I just—”
“Shhh.” I hug her tight. “Take all the time you need to process it. When you’re ready, sign them and give them to your uncle. He’ll take care of the rest.”
She nods.
I slide the papers back into the envelope and place them on the nightstand. Kendall surprises me by climbing on my lap and straddling my hips. Her hands cradle my cheeks. “You are the most amazing man. I don’t know if it was Melissa or just luck, but whatever brought you to me, I will be eternally grateful. I love you.” She kisses me and it soon grows heated. The next thing I know, she’s sliding home and I make love to my wife for the second time.
Epilogue
Kendall
After our wedding night, I decided to see a counselor. I wanted to be Knox’s mom—in my heart, I felt like I was—but I just couldn’t get past the guilt. Survivor’s guilt is what my therapist calls it. For the last several months, I’ve gotten better. I’ve come to realize that what happened to my sister was tragic, but I needed to keep living. That little boy who lights up my world every single day needs a mother, and I’m the lucky one. I have the adoption papers in my top dresser drawer. Neither Ridge, my dad nor my uncle Tom has mentioned them. My husband is truly the most amazing man on the planet.
I’ve been thinking more about signing them and making our little family official. It wasn’t until last week that I finally did. When Knox called me Mom, my heart soared and I knew in that moment that he needs what I had. I had two people who wanted a child and made me their own. They never treated me like I wasn’t a part of them, and that’s how I treat Knox.
So I signed the papers. I dropped them off to my uncle at his office and he simply smiled and nodded. Here I am a week later, stopping by to pick up the copy of the official adoption petition to give to Ridge. It’s little man’s first birthday, so it’s kind of a gift for both of them. Well, that and my other news. I’ve been feeling off the last couple of weeks, so I made a doctor’s appointment this morning, and low and behold, I’m pregnant. I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling since the second the doctor told me.
Luckily for me, Uncle Tom chalked it up to being happy about the papers, so he didn’t question me. He wouldn’t have been wrong, but to know I’m carrying a part of Ridge is surreal. And Knox . . . well, my little man is going to be a big brother. I need to tell Ridge first.
I think back to the way he proposed and I hop online to place my order. Overnight shipping is outrageous, but I’ll be lucky to wait until tomorrow to tell him.
He’s not going to be home until late tonight; he and the guys have started back up with card night. Reagan and Dawn are coming over and helping me decorate for Knox’s birthday party tomorrow.
“What has you smiling like you won the lottery?” Dawn asks.
Shit. I can’t tell them I’m pregnant, but I can give them a little something. “Did you know that Ridge gave me adoption papers for Knox as a wedding gift.”
They both nod yes. “I signed them.” I grin.
They both tackle me with hugs, and when I hear a squeal and little hands wrap around my legs, I know this is right. The girls back away and Knox seals the deal when he says, “Mom,” and holds his little arms up to me.
“Oh, my God!” Reagan cries.
I pick him up and he gives me a sloppy kiss on my cheek. I look over my two best friends, and they both have silent tears running down their face and blinding smiles. “Don’t tell Ridge. It’s a surprise.
They both agree, and for the rest of the night, they fire off ideas of how to tell him. I bite my tongue and smile as I listen to their ideas. They are pretty inventive, but I like mine better. I just have to cross my fingers that overnight Saturday delivery comes through for me.
It better, for what it cost.
Ridge
Knox started walking a few weeks ago, and his little legs carry him all over the place. Kendall and I thought he got into everything when he was crawling, but those little legs are fast.
This past year has brought so many changes in my life, my son and my wife being the biggest. I can still remember the fear I felt when Melissa died. The fear of raising him on my own. Then fate stepped in—or Melissa, rather, because I know in my heart that she sent Kendall to us—and I found this beautiful, sweet woman to raise him with me. To share my life with.
Life is good.
Today is Knox’s birthday party, and my wife seems to be on edge. I’ve chalked it up to her wanting everything to be perfect for his big day.
“Hey, babe,” I greet her. She’s in the kitchen stirring something in a Crock-Pot. “Is that our lasagna?” I ask, resting my hands on her hips and kissing her neck.
She laughs. “No, meatballs.”
“Dada.” Knox comes barreling into the room. Leaning down, I catch him and lift him into my arms.
“Hey, birthday boy.” He gives me a sloppy kiss right on the lips and I laugh. Life has definitely changed, and I embrace it. I love our life.
“Mom.” He points to Kendall.
I freeze. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard him call her that, and I don’t know how she’s going to react.
She places the lid back on the Crock-Pot and turns to face us. “Hey, sweetie.” She tickles his chin.
“Mom.” He leans toward her, his arms held open wide.
“Come here, you.” She takes him from my arms and bounces him on her hip. “Are you ready for your party?”
I watch in fascination as he just plays with her hair. I don’t blame him; I love the feel of those silky strands sliding through my fingers. It doesn’t seem to faze her that he called her Mom. I take a deep breath, wanting that for them, for her to give in and let herself believe that she’s that person for him. She is already, but she fights it.
Hearing a car outside, her attention is drawn out the window. She sees the mailman and grins. “I got you and Daddy a present for your birthday.” She looks up at me. “Can you call your mom and see if she can stop and pick up a bag of ice?”
“Sure, babe.” I hold my hands out for Knox. “You want to come with Daddy?”
He leans toward me, but Kendall holds him close. “I kind of need him for the surprise I got the two of you.” She smiles.
I chuckle. “Okay, then. I’ll go call Mom.”
She nods then rushes out to the mailbox. Her excitement is evident. I guess that’s why she’s been acting a little off today; she was probably just nervous that whatever it is she ordered wouldn’t be here in time. I rack my brain for something that she could’ve bought that would be for both me and our son. I’ve got nothing.
The call with my mom takes longer than what it should have, as she rattles on about all the gifts she bought him. I assume my wife was banking on this, which is why she had me call.
I’m sitting in the living room when Knox comes tumbling in as fast as his little legs will carry him. “Dada!” He hugs my legs and climbs up on my lap. Kendall is laughing when she sits down beside me. Knox is playing with my beard when a small white envelope appears in my line of vision. Kendall and I haven’t had the best of luck with little white envelopes, so I hesitate.
“Open it,” she says, grinning.
I take that as a good sign, so I tear open the envelope. Inside is a single piece of paper from the state of Illinois.
‘Official Petition for Adoption.’
I whip my head toward her. “You signed?”
Tears in her eyes, she grins. “I did. Counseling has helped, and last week he called me Mom. Something just clicked. I knew his situation is much like my own, and I
want to be that person for him.”
Wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, I pull her into a kiss.
“No,” Knox protests, trying to pry us apart.
“He loves his momma,” I say to Kendall.
She laughs as tears stream down her face. I lift Knox in the air. “Its official, bud.” I throw him up and catch him, and his laughter fills the room. He grabs onto my shirt when I settle him into my lap, and that’s when I notice Kendall changed him. I’ve never seen this one before; maybe that’s what came in the mail. Moving his arms so I can read it, I freeze.
‘I’m the big brother.’
I stare at it and read it two more times before turning to look at my wife.
“Surprise,” she says.
“Are we . . . ?”
She nods.
I’m too overwhelmed to say anything, emotion clogging my throat, so I kiss her, long and hard. Then I grab them both in my arms and hold them tight.
Life has thrown me some curve balls, and there have been times when the unexpected changes have literally knocked me on my ass. I had to learn to live one breath, one second, one minute, one hour, one day at a time. I’ve learned that the best things in life are truly the unexpected.
I’ve embraced it and learned to live in my unexpected reality.
Thank you
I cannot thank you enough for taking the time to read Unexpected Reality.
Want more from the Beckett Construction Crew? Unexpected Fight is book two in the Unexpected Arrivals Series. This is Tyler and Reagan’s story.
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Southern Pleasure
Copyright © 2015 Kaylee Ryan
All Rights Reserved.
This book may not be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of Kaylee Ryan, except for the use of brief quotations in articles and or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, locations, businesses and plot are products of the author’s imagination and meant to be used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events throughout the story are purely coincidental. The author acknowledges trademark owners and trademarked status of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, sponsored or associated by or with the trademark owners.
The following story contains sexual situations and strong language. It is intended for adult readers.
Cover Design: Perfect Pear Creative Covers
Cover Photography: Golden Czermak, FuriousFotog
Cover Model: Mac Robinson
Editing: Hot Tree Editing
Proofreading: Kim Ginsberg, and Proof This, Jennifer Singh
Formatting: Integrity Formatting
Chapter 1
Evan
My heart pounds against my chest as I watch the tears running down her face and struggle to process what she just said.
I hate tears.
I hate my girlfriend, Misty, for what she just said, the words still ringing in my ears.
“Evan, I just don’t want kids. I don’t want to be a parent. My own parents sure as hell weren’t role models, and it’s just not something I want. I’m getting out of here,” she says through her tears.
“Don’t I have a say in this? That’s my flesh and blood.” I point to her belly. “This is my baby, too.” My voice is pleading. She’s just dropped a bomb on me.
Fuck that!
“Evan, I just…I don’t want this.”
“This is not just about you!” I roar. “This baby is a part of me, dammit. Please don’t do this,” I beg her. I’m not above pleading to save my unborn child.
“Evan,” she sobs.
“How did this even happen? I wrap it every damn time. You’re on the pill?” I say it like a question, even though she has always assured me she is, indeed, on birth control.
“Nothing is 100 percent. I don’t know what happened. I take my pill religiously. All I know is I’m pregnant and I don’t want to be!” she screams.
I’m twenty-four years old. Old enough to be a father, although this is not how I’d planned it. I always thought I would be married to the love of my life when I started a family, but the fact of the matter is I’m not. Misty and I have been together for almost a year. I knew she wasn’t the love of my life, but I didn’t care---until now. I always figured we were having fun together and I had time. Time to find that one girl who consumes me and make her mine. Build a life together. I even thought, with time, Misty could be that girl.
Life has other plans, or maybe I should blame this on my swimmers and the damn condom company, or even the pharmaceutical company, but I know she’s right. Nothing is 100 percent.
“Evan, you know I want out of this town. Small town life is not for me. I’ve been saving. We’ve talked about this.”
She’s right; we have. I think that’s a big part of why she was never the one. I love being on the farm, living in Kentucky. This is my home. Misty has always been honest about her plans to move on. Her parents are both big shot business moguls, who never paid any real attention to her. To hear her tell it, she was never good enough for them.
Running my fingers through my hair, I take a deep breath. “Please don’t do this.” My voice cracks on my plea.
“I just…I don’t want to be a mother.” She cries harder.
“How long have you known? Give it a few weeks to sink in. It’s a shock for sure, but that’s our baby.”
“I found out four weeks ago. I’m two months along. I’ve thought about this, Evan, and it’s always the same answer. I don’t want this.”
“I do,” I say with conviction. That baby is a part of me. My mind races for a solution and before I know what’s happening, words are falling from my lips. “Sign over rights to me.”
“What?” She’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Have the baby, then sign the rights over to me. I’ll never ask you for anything. You don’t have to be a part of his or her life, just…please, Misty.”
Silence grows between us. The only sound is her soft cries and the rapid beat of my heart against my chest. I know she needs to process what I’ve just said, so I bite my tongue, giving her time.
“You really want this that badly? We’ve never talked about having kids.”
“Yes, and I know we haven’t, but that doesn’t change the fact you are now carrying a part of me and I want that, more than I ever thought possible. Please don’t do this.”
“So, how would this work? You’d just take the baby and what? Go on with your life?” she asks.
“Yes. I’ll make sure you have whatever you need during the pregnancy. We can go to a lawyer and have it written up. You sign over all rights to me and that’s it. You can leave and go wherever you want. I won’t ask you for anything else. Please, Misty.” My voice is soft and pleading. I want to scream at her and demand she not do this, but I can’t. That’s only going to piss her off. Misty has a mind of her own. I need for her to come to the conclusion that this is the best option.
“My parents agree with me; I’m not cut out for motherhood.”
What the fuck? I’ve only met her parents once. They live in Tennessee. Misty moved here to stay with her cousin, Heather, while attending college. She dropped out, but never moved back home. The one and only time I met them, they made sure to tell their daughter what a disappointment she is, as they snubbed their noses at the both of us.
I don’t comment. If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all. “Please, I can call the lawyer now, get the process started. I’ll make sure you have anything you need.”
“Evan, there will be medical bills, clothes, things for the baby. My parents, they won’t
help.”
“I know and I got it---all of it.” I hold her gaze as I say the words, willing her to keep my baby.
“If I agree to this, I’m leaving as soon as I can. I don’t want this life, Evan.”
I nod. “I know, and I won’t stop you. As long as you’ve signed all the papers, you are free to go and live your life. You won’t hear from me again.” I wipe my sweaty palms against my thighs. She’s considering it, but I have no idea which way she’ll go.
“It needs to be clear in the papers that I want nothing to do with the baby. I know it sounds harsh, but I just…can’t.”
“Whatever you want. We can go to the attorney together.”
She paces to the window and stares out at the green pasture, arms crossed over her chest. “Okay,” she whispers.
I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. She said okay. “Thank you, Misty. I’ll call him now and get it set up. Have you been to the doctor? When is your next appointment? I want to be there for all of it.”
“Yeah, I went. I’m supposed to go monthly for check-ups and then more frequently closer to time. I have an appointment this afternoon. I was going to tell them to…you know. I just wanted to tell you first.” She turns to look at me. “I never expected this turn of events.”
“Thank you for talking to me first and agreeing to this.” I’m going to be a father. A single father, by choice. I’m grateful she’s agreed to this, but at the same time, I want her out of my life. As soon as the words she was “taking care of it” left her mouth, I hated her.
