About That Night

by Laura Brown

Nolan narrowed his eyes.

  Bo leaned back, sipping his own drink, waiting Nolan out.

  “I found her.”

  Bo leaned forward, drink forgotten, not needing any explanation for the sudden subject shift. “Really? Why aren’t you happy?”

  “She had a kid.” He focused on the neon bar light above Bo’s head. “My kid.”

  Bo’s eyebrows reached for the lock of dark hair that always flopped over his forehead. “What?”

  “I have a son. Nine months old. Named A-R-C-H-I-E.” The words didn’t seem real. He conjured up the image on Izzy’s phone, of the smiling baby, and struggled to feel something. That kid could be any other picture of a kid. He tried to mesh it into his reality, make it click and settle. Maybe in time it would.

  Bo didn’t lower his brows. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a prick, but you don’t know this woman; she could be lying.”

  “Right, because anyone would want me to be a father.” Nolan shook his head. “No, I trust her.” He had no reason to question Izzy, not when the timing lined up, not when the kid could blend in with his own baby pictures.

  Bo ran his hands through his hair. “Wow. You have a kid. I told you skipping that day of health class would have repercussions.”

  Nolan growled, the vibrations in his throat an involuntary necessity. Bonus because Bo had a cochlear implant and Nolan had often been accused of being loud.

  He hadn’t a clue what sound level the bar had, but when Bo cupped his ear, he figured the bastard heard him. “I can’t hear you.”

  Nolan flipped him off.

  Bo wiped the air. “O.K., you have a kid. What are you going to do about it?”

  Nolan fisted his hair. The million-dollar question. “No clue. Izzy has it under control. I’ll mess things up.”

  Bo chucked a controller at him; it rammed into his shoulder with enough force to leave a bruise. “Don’t be stupid. Yes, you will mess things up. All parents mess up. But you know damn well the hole a missing father leaves behind. Don’t be that hole.”

  Nolan rubbed his chest, and the ache there, even though the offending object had hit his shoulder. “I don’t know the first thing about being a father.”

  “Not the kid’s fault.” Bo picked up the controller and loaded a new game. Nolan joined in, enjoying being out of the spotlight for a while. It wasn’t Archie’s fault he was a screw-up who still played video games and lived in the equivalent of a sparsely decorated college dorm.

  The fault belonged to Nolan and not learning from his own conception. He had to figure out if he could be something more, or if history had already provided the answer.

  Chapter Four

  The following day Nolan sat at his desk, doodling a tree with falling leaves in the corner of his notepad, debating with himself as though the winner got a monetary prize, or a trip to Disney World, or Land, or Paris, he wasn’t picky.

  No, definitely not Paris. He didn’t need any further complications to his love life, or former love life—the reason for the internal debate.

  He needed to get Izzy on all the social media accounts in order for them to double-team and ensure fast and efficient responses. He learned his lesson at his last job, but requesting her help meant seeing her. He needed to find some way to step up, to figure out what she needed from him for the baby. All night he’d tossed and turned, not coming up with any answers.

  He tossed his pen on his desk and leaned back in his wobbly office chair. Comfortable enough, but a few years past prime and in danger of falling over if he leaned too far. After nearly two years of hoping to find Izzy again, he now delayed any interaction. Because it was one thing to think of the hot, sexy ASL student who had rocked his world for a single night, and quite another to look at her and feel all the guilt for the surprise he’d left with her, and the responsibilities he’d slammed into her. All because the condom’s power level failed.

  Could condoms be doubled up? Would that help? He’d have to look into that.

  But for now he stood and pushed back his wobbly chair, determined to stop being a wuss and get on with this. Izzy was here. He’d have to interact with her for work, and he sure as hell needed to do something about her kid. Their kid. It still sent his head into a spin.

  He needed a few more days to figure things out. With any luck, she’d grant him the small reprieve and wouldn’t hold it against him.

  Nolan made his way to the assistant/intern area. He rounded the corner and the four desks loomed ahead of him, two occupied. The hearing intern, Lisa, sat at one, blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail. She waved in her overenthusiastic ponytail-swaying way and he gave her a halfhearted response, ignoring how her swishing hair stilled as he headed straight to the person he wanted to see, as though a magnet pulled him there and not a simple business conversation.

  Izzy glanced up, smiled, and for a moment he faltered, forgetting the reason why he came out here in the first place. Similar to when he’d seen her at the bar and any excuse he had about the number of beers he’d consumed flew out the window at a high enough speed to create a cyclone.

  “What’s up?” she signed, the motion enough to snap him out of his stupor.

  “I wanted to get you set up on our social media accounts.” He’d already explained the specifics, just hadn’t gotten her up and running.

  She nodded and rolled her chair away from her desk. He leaned over, opening her browser and plugging in the information. He made sure Izzy knew the passwords for when the browser reset, and did his best to ignore the subtle fragrance of her, and how it drifted to him and wrapped around him as he typed.

  When finished, he stood and made sure to leave her personal bubble, escaping her alluring smell and how easy it would be to push his nose to her neck and breathe her in. Dangerous territory, and not at all appropriate for the office.

  “Do you want me to notify you if anything pops up? Or give you a chance to respond first?”

  He shook his head, using the motion as a chance to clear the lust sizzling in his brain. He was half hard just standing there, breathing her scent. He needed a cold drink, or a shower, or to dunk his head in the sink. “No, if you know the answer, jump right in. I want to establish fast responses, to prove we’re reliable.”

  Izzy nodded and scooted her chair back to her desk. Nolan stepped away. Izzy showed no signs of being affected like he was. Good. She’d been on the receiving end of his mistakes; she should be careful. He needed to come with a warning label—seven years’ bad luck, no mirror breakage required. That thought was enough to kick him in the gut. He headed back to his office, determined to focus on work and nothing else.

  …

  At lunch Izzy grabbed her bag, realizing she still needed to establish some place to pump. The previous day the office had been busy, so she’d camped out in her car with her nursing cover. That would do in a pinch, but she really needed a designated spot. She’d been pumping for months at home, first as a way to increase her production, then building up her milk supply in preparation for work or anytime she needed to be away from Archie. She had enough that he’d be fine if she didn’t pump. But her tender breasts were full and painful. Besides making more for Archie, she needed the release before she leaked or the pain increased.

  She walked past Nolan’s office, determined to not check to see if he was inside. They’d been dancing around each other since the coffee shop meeting and as far as she was concerned, the ball was in his court. Sure, she dropped a twenty-pound bombshell on him, but as far as bombshells went, it was a damn cute one. So she’d give him time. He deserved this much. In a few days she’d ask if he wanted to meet Archie; maybe seeing the kid in person would make a difference.

  She passed his closed door and headed to Deanna’s open one, relieved to find her still inside. Izzy waved.

  Deanna looked up. “How’s it going?”

  “Good.” Izzy glanc
ed around nervously, unsure how this conversation would go, and caught the pictures behind Deanna’s desk, family pictures displaying two children. “Can we talk for a minute?”

  Deanna nodded and gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. Izzy shifted the door to an almost closed position and took a seat, settling the bag between her legs. “I have a son, he’s nine months old.”

  Deanna smiled. “What a cute age. I miss my kids being that small.”

  “I breastfeed and…” Her hands trailed off, unsure how to sign what she needed. She didn’t talk about this kind of stuff with Levi or anyone else Deaf, so she never needed the signs.

  “You need a place to pump.” Izzy figured out the sign based on context and Deanna mouthing the word. The woman’s gaze floated around, in thinking mode. “I’ll talk with our maintenance guy. We don’t have any empty office spaces, but we do have some storage that could double as a tiny office, would that work?”

  Relief flooded Izzy. “Yes. Thank you. I wasn’t sure how this would go.”

  Deanna waved her off. “We’re relaxed here, as I’m sure you’ve seen, and understand people have a life outside of this job. My kids are teenagers now.”

  Izzy glanced at the picture again, showing Deanna, another woman, and a girl and boy. “I thought so from your picture.” She pointed.

  Deanna picked it up. “That’s from a few years ago; both kids are taller than me now.” She laughed. “My wife gave birth, and I remember the breastfeeding and pumping days. I’m about to go pick up lunch if you need my office until we can get you set up?”

  Izzy glanced around, noting only one window with off-white vertical blinds covering them, like all the window coverings at the agency. “Yes, I would appreciate that.”

  Deanna rose. “No problem.” She patted Izzy on the shoulder and left, closing the door behind her.

  Pressure hit the tips of Izzy’s nipples, bordering on painful, and she couldn’t wait to get everything set up. She unpacked her pumping supplies, including the handy little contraption that allowed for hands-free pumping. Once everything was set, she turned on the machine, the milk let-down easing the growing aches.

  People her age dealt with hangovers, and yet here she sat in an office with milk spilling out of her. Her life had taken a very different path, and while she loved her son, she could go for some form of beverage exchange that didn’t involve her nipples.

  Milk filled the containers attached to the pump, more so than she usually got when she pumped around Archie’s normal feeding. She picked up her phone, scrolled through a few of his recent images, milk flowing even faster as her heart warmed at the little face.

  She missed him. Badly. She needed to be a working parent and would want to be, regardless of the situation. She didn’t go through four years of college just to stay home. She wanted a career and a life. Partly due to seeing her mother reassert herself in the working world when her father died, and the struggles she had establishing a career later in life. Izzy had every intention of having a career and a family, she just happened to get the kid first.

  In need of her baby fix, she called her sister. “How’s my son?” she asked the minute the call connected.

  Gaby laughed. “Well hello to you, too. He’s fine, curled up on my lap, almost asleep. Switch to video.”

  Izzy did, and Archie’s little face came on the screen, a punch of warmth to her soul. “Hi, baby, how are you?”

  Archie grinned, showing off his two teeth, and clapped.

  “Now I won’t get him to fall asleep. Thanks a lot, Mom,” Gaby said, the teasing clear in the light way she spoke.

  “Oh, hush and talk to me when you have kids and leave them behind.” She switched her attention to Archie. “Your aunt does not understand.”

  “Maybe I’ll stay at home.”

  Izzy wished Gaby was on-screen so she could see her sister. “What?”

  The phone shifted so both Gaby and Archie were in the shot. “I said maybe I’ll stay at home. Levi makes enough, I could work from home or reduce my hours. I don’t know. But we’re thinking a few years from now. No offense, but I want to get married first.”

  Izzy stuck out her tongue as the door clicked open and a hand reached in to flash the light. Shit. “Got to go,” she whispered to the phone before disconnecting. Odds were the person on the other side was Deaf, otherwise they would have heard this wasn’t Deanna. Izzy reached down and quickly snatched up her nursing cover that she’d kept in the bag, just in case, laying it across her chest a second before the intruder appeared.

  Nolan blinked at her and stumbled backward, knocking into a corkboard filled with papers and memos. The board shifted and Izzy cringed as it crashed to the floor. Nolan spun around, finding the board on the floor, with papers strewn about. He faced her. “Sorry.”

  This did not bode well for her continuing to pump. She waved before he took care of the fallen board. “Close the door, please.” She had to sign far out from her body, otherwise she risked disconnecting one of the pumps, and she was not in the mood for spilled milk today.

  Nolan closed the door, then faced her. “What are you doing?”

  Izzy figured, what the hell, he’d already seen her naked and lifted the covering to reveal the containers. “Milk. For your kid.”

  Yeah, she was snarky. Nothing like being interrupted while pumping by the same person who got her pregnant in the first place.

  Nolan shifted, scratching his neck. “I’m sorry. I’ll clean this up.”

  “I can’t really help at the moment.”

  “No, of course not, you’re busy and…” He stopped signing, not finishing his statement She didn’t know if he was uncomfortable with the whole “breasts make milk” thing or about knocking the board off the wall. Or both. His cheeks were pink, and it took some of her snark away, since the man was cute, cuter when thrown off-balance.

  She watched as he bent, following the curve of his ass, nothing else to do at the moment. He straightened, hanging the board up, the dress shirt tugging across his broad shoulders. Izzy looked away. She shouldn’t still be interested in the man, not while pumping, not when their jobs meant they interacted for work and their kid, nothing more. But Nolan bent again, picking up the papers, and Izzy continued watching, enjoying the view more than she should. Only this time, he turned before she could look away.

  She hadn’t realized she could get more awkward while pumping, but clearly she could.

  “You O.K.?” His lips curved—he’d caught her—but she thanked her lucky stars he didn’t call her on it.

  “Nothing to do at the moment.”

  He tacked a few more papers up. “Let Deanna know this is my fault.” He picked up the final two pieces. “You do this often?” He gestured to her chest, where milk still collected.

  “If I stop I won’t have enough for Archie.”

  Nolan finished putting the papers back. “How… How is the baby?”

  “Good.”

  “You miss him?”

  “Always.”

  Nolan nodded, as though trying to understand, and she appreciated the attempt. “I know I need to discuss this more with you. I need a little time, to figure this out. Can you give me that?”

  Izzy had hoped for no time needed at all, but she’d give him the time he’d asked for. She imagined he would have needed time, even if she’d found him before Archie had been born. “I can give you that.”

  “Thanks.” He glanced around, for what she didn’t know. An awkwardness hung between them and she bet it had only 10 percent to do with the fact she pumped milk. More likely had to do with the why. “Do you need anything?”

  Izzy paused, touched by the thought when she expected him to leave. “I’m hungry. Forgot to grab my lunch.”

  “That’s why I came here. I was going to the corner pizza place, didn’t know if anyone else wanted something.”
/>
  Izzy thought of the salad she brought for lunch, with sudden distaste. “Can you get me a meatball sub?”

  Nolan nodded.

  “I can pay you later—”

  He waved her off. “All things considered, I can handle this. Especially since you are making food.”

  A smile warmed her face. “Milk, but yeah.”

  He shifted his feet, as though he wanted to ask her more questions, then nodded and left, closing the door securely behind him.

  Izzy checked on the milk and the steady flow still filling the cups. She didn’t know what to make of the situation, but at least he got a little insight into her world and the things she did for their kid. Small pieces of information to help toward whatever decision he’d end up making. And in the meantime, she’d appreciate the offer for lunch and hope his kind gestures grew into being more hands-on with his son.

  Chapter Five

  Two days later Nolan hadn’t figured out what do about the kid. Izzy agreed to give him time, but each passing hour weighed heavily on him, and he knew he needed to do something soon. The kid resembled the powerful computer character that could unlock worlds and opportunities, but he didn’t have a clue how to unlock him. Each time he saw Izzy, he thought of the baby they had somehow created. When she took a break to pump milk in the small closet space they had reorganized for her. When she glanced at her phone and had a special smile on her face. Babies, and women with babies, hadn’t been a part of his life before this, and he had many questions, and a lot of curiosity, but he didn’t dare ask. Not yet, at least. He still needed to figure out child support and that can of worms, and if them having a kid together created any problems for a workplace with a no-dating clause. Not that they were dating, but clearly they’d done something in the past to create a child.

  He picked up his phone, opened his text thread to his mother, staring at the blinking cursor. Same thing he’d been doing for three days now. He needed to tell her and, once he did, he’d get her advice, some help on adjusting to this life-changing information. She wanted grandchildren, but not in this way. She wanted better for him, better for the next generation. How many conversations had they had about safe sex, about being responsible? Tons. And he’d failed, just like the man who created him. He hated knowing he had a connection besides half his genetic makeup.