Rockstar Baby: Crescent Cove Book 6

by Quinn, Taryn

“Can you not shout the news, please? It still hasn’t made it to TV.”

  “Someone is a little full of themselves. Damn shame too, as I thought you were the level-headed one.”

  “I was, until I procreated.”

  “You make it sound like a sexually transmitted disease. Babies are lovely. Right, Magic?” Ian smiled up at Zoe as she approached. He took the tray of drinks from her and set it on the low coffee table between us, then patted his lap for Zoe to sit. She arched a brow and sat on the arm of his chair. “In fact, her only regret is that she can’t become pregnant again until she has this one.” He patted her belly.

  She shoved his hand away, but I didn’t miss her small smile.

  “You two have the oddest relationship.” I leaned forward to dump my shot of brandy into the tea. I hadn’t truly expected to be served spirits other than their apple wine varieties and moonshine, but then again, the brandy probably had an apple tinge to it.

  I didn’t care. As long as it took the edge off, sign me up.

  “It works for us.” Before Zoe could attempt to reach for her own tea, Ian did the honors, stirring in honey and sugar at some precise quantity only they knew. Then he handed it to her and she granted him a rare full smile before she took a sip.

  I swallowed some of my own and nearly screamed like a newborn as it scalded my throat.

  “Sorry. I should’ve said it’s piping hot.” Zoe balanced her tea cup on the swell of her belly. “So, how is Ivy?”

  “She’s well.”

  “Gee, so much information. Don’t overwhelm me.” Zoe drank more of her tea. Her throat must be lined with steel.

  “What do you want to know? She’s with child. It’s mine,” I said pointedly to Ian, who held up his hands in the perfect picture of innocence. “She’s not doing poorly right now, although it’s early days yet.”

  “I hope she’s okay. I should call her.” Zoe frowned into her tea. “That day I saw her at Kinleigh’s, she indicated she might be, but I was hoping she wasn’t for her sake.”

  “Why would you say that?” I snapped. “Do you really think it’s so burdensome to be carrying my child?”

  Wonderful. Now I was the one shouting. I wasn’t a big deal like Ian in the rock arena, but my name was mentioned often enough in the trades. At the rate I was going, I might as well just phone in a tip to The Tattler and pocket the fee myself.

  “Oh, I don’t know, because you’re never around and she’s a hometown girl. A very sweet girl who deserves a family if she wants one, not a guy who comes in and out dropping sperm.”

  “So, now it’s all my fault? I did this alone?”

  “No. But she’s handling it alone, isn’t she? You just showed up today.”

  “Yesterday,” I muttered as guilt and shame twined through my stomach. To combat it, I swallowed more tea. It had cooled off, but at that moment, I wouldn’t have cared if it burned through to my vocal cords.

  Zoe was making too much sense, even if I hadn’t known. I only hadn’t known because I hadn’t stepped up.

  My first act as a father had been to duck and weave.

  “I can just bet you haven’t been going through this with her,” Zoe continued. “She’s probably working her ass to the bone right now while you’ve come here to have Ian assuage your guilty conscience.”

  All at once, the righteous anger bled out of me. “You’re right.”

  “And for another thing—” Zoe blinked. “Huh?”

  “You’re right. I’m always quick to say I never led her on, but things change. People change. I knew soon enough I was developing feelings for her, and in that, I did lie. Because I’m in love with her and she doesn’t know.”

  One of them gasped. Possibly both. I was too busy tossing back the last of my tea to notice which.

  And that brandy went down smooth.

  Ian hadn’t touched his shot glass so I picked it up and drank it. He laughed and came around the coffee table to slap me on the back. “Well, congratulations then, Daddy-to-be. Looks like I beat you there, but at least you’re on the track.”

  I couldn’t do more than smile. Weakly.

  I was really going to do this. Invest 110 percent, whatever that meant.

  “So, when are you going to propose? If you need help ring shopping, I have some tips now. My brother and—” Ian must’ve seen my expression, since he put a lid on his mouth.

  “Not everyone gets married right away.”

  “I know that, Magic.”

  “Some people wait almost the entire nine months to officially propose.”

  Ian rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “Plant a baby in a woman, pledge undying devotion to her, give her a ring, and it’s still never enough.”

  I had to laugh. A minor miracle, since my throat was now on fire for a completely new reason. “Do you think she expects that? We barely know each other.”

  “Yet you’re in love with her? Unless you think it’s one-sided. And if so,” Ian patted my shoulder consolingly, “rough road, my friend.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, it’s not one-sided. She was fawning over his accent and missing the hell out of him when he was gone.”

  “Fawning? Really?” I couldn’t help preening a bit. Hell, my dented ego needed some stroking occasionally. “Here I thought it was just my skill as a lover that had her smitten.”

  “No, the accent is actually more useful in getting laid than the dick. Rather lowering to admit, I know, but I came to terms with it some time ago.” Ian shrugged and held a hand out to Zoe. “Give me a little of that, Magic. I’ve a mighty thirst.”

  “Sorry. Empty. You might have less thirst if you didn’t talk so much.” She waved him off. “Go get a tea while I talk to Rory.”

  Ian cast a look between us, but he didn’t hesitate to amble off. Running from the scene of the crime, that one.

  “I know you don’t want children. You’ve said it flat out to us a time or ten. So, if you’re just stringing Ivy along, hoping to let her down easy, don’t. Just make a clean break now.” She flipped her braid over her shoulder, then immediately brought it forward again, fingering the ends. “I know you’ll do right by her financially. I’m not saying you aren’t a good guy, deep down. But trying to be someone you’re not won’t do her any favors in the long run.”

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Are you sure? Ian has a way of dragging everyone along with his plans. Maybe you see him so happy about a kid, and figure he’s got one, so I can too.”

  “Bloody hell, woman, what kind of bloke do you take me for?” I set the tea cup down with a rattle in the saucer and locked my hands behind my neck. “I’m not faking anything or stringing her along. I have real feelings for her. For God’s sake, my mum knitted her a sweater. I brought home a bracelet that says ‘my love’ in Irish for her. That was before I knew she was pregnant, by the way, in case you missed that while sitting on your throne of judgment.”

  Zoe’s throat bobbed, but she didn’t reply.

  “I did say I didn’t want children. I didn’t think I wanted a wife either. I’m not all the way there to marriage in my head yet, but I’m so much closer than I ever was before. Give me—give us—a chance to get the rest of the way there together, yeah?”

  Zoe’s shoulders lifted as she sucked in a deep breath. Then she flashed me a dazzling smile. “Much, much better. That was the passion I wanted to see from you.” She started to jump to her feet as she once had, then screwed up her features and braced herself on the arms of the chair for a giant heave upward. “Lordy, I am so ready to get this kid out of me. I swear, he’s gotta be the size of a Beluga.”

  I hurried forward to help her to her feet. As soon as she was upright, she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a hug much like Ian’s. Unreserved, with every ounce of the fire inside her.

  Awkwardly, I patted her back and tried not to crush her stomach between us. “You’re not so dissimilar, are you?”

  She didn’t have time to answer, because the baby took th
at moment to kick hard enough that I felt it. Without thinking, I placed my hand on the side of her belly. The child kicked again.

  “Oh, look at that. He likes Uncle Rory.”

  I was too busy staring at the ripple under my hand. Awe wasn’t a strong enough word for the emotion that moved through me. “Mine will do this too?”

  “I imagine so. Can’t see a baby of yours and Ivy’s being a meek sort.”

  “Right. A baby of mine and Ivy’s.” I cleared my throat, but it still didn’t do a thing to alleviate the grittiness. Nor could I blink fast enough to keep the heat from my eyes.

  “Hey.” Zoe’s voice was gentle. “You know this is going to be okay, right? I know it seems huge and scary right now, but people have been having babies since the beginning of time. It’s a natural process.”

  “Hey, Magic, they have fresh scones. Want one?” Ian called.

  She sighed. “He’s cute when he’s not being a pain in the keister. Sure,” she called back. “Your son is hungry. Again.”

  “Does it hurt?” I slipped my hands into my pockets, but I could still see that mad dancing going on under her skin.

  “The kicking? Not always. Now that he’s almost full-term though? Yeah. He’s a budding footballer for sure.”

  I smiled. “Ivy is picking up some of our words too.”

  “And she’ll pick up more, if you give her the chance.” Zoe shocked me into silence by gripping my wrist, hard. “The biggest gift you can give her is your presence. Not fancy bracelets or knitted sweaters. Those are nice too. But she wants you with her. Even when she says she doesn’t. Even when she threatens to make you sterile. She doesn’t mean it. Probably.”

  Ian strolled over with his plate of baked goods. “I saw you feeling around on my wife. I hope you have good insurance, son.”

  “Almost wife.” She nudged him in the gut and thieved his plate, smiling up at him. “I’m going to have a little lie down. I’ll be taking these with me.”

  Ian let out a long breath. “See? I live to do her bidding and she leaves me with crumbs.” He hauled her in for an embarrassingly long kiss. I turned my head away and still, it went on and on.

  But I found myself smiling just the same. This—some variation of this anyway—could be Ivy and me. And yes, it was scary. Yes, it was overwhelming.

  More than anything, it was amazing.

  A moment later, Zoe wandered off, scones in hand. Ian had snagged two, one of which he offered me. “So, what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to prove to her I will be by her side for every step of this.”

  “And the baby?”

  I crunched into the scone. All of a sudden, I was ravenous. Were pregnancy cravings kicking in for me as well? “The same goes for him or her. God, there’s a him or her.”

  “Unless there’s two.” Ian’s eyes twinkled. “Or three. Sometimes there’s even four or five or six…”

  I pointed at him. “You’re not even funny.”

  “Sure I am. I’m irresistible in all ways. Besides, you’re most likely safe on that score.” He paused to chew his scone. “Probably.”

  Twenty-Three

  No matter how early I showed up at the truck, he was there waiting for me.

  Every damn day.

  We’d gotten past the painting to the pure muscle portion of the truck prep. Rory showed up with more bandages on his fingers than skin some days, but he showed up. And never complained. No matter what I threw at him.

  He even went to the hardware store and bought a drill and tool belt which I had a hard time not laughing at. Followed directly by drooling because he kinda looked hot with the whole workman thing going on.

  That of course put me in a bad mood for two days straight.

  His next task was more creative. He went across the street and set up on the grass to do some crazy masking tape tricks to paint the faux jukebox sandwich board sign. He wouldn’t let me help because of the chemicals. Personally, I was pretty sure he just wanted to play perfectionist with the jukebox colors. He had a host of spray paints in his arsenal along with a ridiculous face mask to combat the breeze coming off the water.

  He’d come back this morning looking for chalkboard paint so the center of his genius mini jukebox could be changed like the song strips on the truck. The fact that he was a very good artist on top of all the other things he could do pissed me off way more than it should have.

  Then again, him breathing pissed me off lately.

  But he’d been with me every step of the way for the last week. Bringing me lunches, drinks, making me take breaks.

  “Ivy Rose, come out here and take a look.”

  I sighed and gripped the counter inside the truck. I didn’t want to go out there. And I wasn’t sure which was worse—Rory saying the nickname that followed me into dreams or Ivy Rose.

  Couldn’t I just stay in here and ignore him? Besides, it was a million times more bearable thanks to the trio of fans Rory had set up around the window. I didn’t even know there were fans with clips on them, but he found them.

  He’d thought about me and my comfort and the fact that I was in a tin can in the dead of summer.

  And I was weakening like a chump.

  Because he looked so earnest with everything he did to help me. Other than a grudging thank you every day, I’d barely spoken to him other than to give him some sort of direction.

  It didn’t take much. He took ideas and ran with them. He was naturally creative in ways I hadn’t even imagined.

  Especially with titles for the ice cream flavors. Kinleigh and I had come up with a ton of them, but his were even more clever. I knew I needed to give him more credit for all the work he was doing, but it felt like I was giving in.

  Forgiving him.

  And I didn’t want to forgive him. Because if I forgave him, I’d let him back in.

  I slipped out of the back of the truck and around the side to where he was standing. The pure joy on his face made my chest hurt. He was wearing the rainbow hat. It was sprinkled in paint fingerprints and splatter. Even his scruffy face was smeared with mint paint.

  He was stupidly adorable and I wanted nothing more than to go over there and hug him.

  He pushed his hat back and looked up, his face split with a rare smile. “What do you think?”

  I blinked at him for a moment. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so happy. I followed his gaze. “What did you do to my truck?”

  His grin slipped away. “I added speakers.”

  “I see that.” The speakers were not on my itemized list of things I’d bought. “I didn’t buy them.”

  “I did.”

  “I didn’t ask you to.” My fingers were fisted and I was ready to swing.

  His larger one came around mine. He brought it up to his mouth and kissed it lightly. “I wanted to. You’ve been working so hard—”

  “I have. And I did it all on my own. Well, until you came to help, but I could have done it.”

  “I’m not saying you couldn’t have, love.”

  I hissed out a breath. “Don’t call me that.”

  “I’m sorry. And I can take it down, but it’s a gift. Can’t you see that? I just wanted to—”

  “What? My ideas aren’t good enough?”

  “Dammit, Ivy. It’s not that.” He dropped my hand and paced away from me, tunneling his fingers under his hat and through his overgrown hair. “I was trying to do something for you. That’s all.”

  “I don’t want you to.” My voice was loud enough that a few people twisted to look at us from Brewed Awakening’s outdoor tables. I brought it down an octave or three. “I’m fine with my plans. I’ve been building on them for years, Rory. Years.” Horrified by the wash of tears threatening, I twisted away from him.

  His hands gripped my arms as he crowded behind me. “You’re amazing and this whole production is incredible. You have a rock-themed truck with no music. It just seemed like the perfect cherry on the sundae as it were.”

  I f
roze up under his touch. We’d been so careful not to get into each other’s space this whole week. I knew it was a perfect touch. It was thoughtful and generous and all the things Rory could be when he wanted to. But it was too much. And it had been in my plans for the future, after I brought some money in and could allow the expense.

  Building up my business, one step at a time.

  He slid one arm around me, tentative fingers curving around the little bump I was sporting. “I’d do anything for you. For both of you.” He tipped his head to touch mine, his lips so close to my ear. “I don’t want to make you upset, a ghrá.”

  Another one of those words I didn’t understand. It was rare, but even on that first night, they’d tumbled from his mouth at the oddest times. In my heart, I knew he was trying, that this was how he showed me he wanted to do something for me. But I didn’t want his money or his gifts.

  I covered his hand on the side of my belly, squeezed lightly before slipping away from him. I crossed my arms and turned around. “You didn’t even ask.”

  He looked down. “You’re right. I just got excited. You didn’t even look at them.”

  I gave him a huge sigh and turned to look at them. “Where did you order them from?”

  He moved next to me. “That’s the thing. They were just regular speakers. Nothing special. At least not until I talked to your brother. He helped make them match the look. He built little boxes around them so they looked like the same speakers in the diner.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “We went and took pictures the other night.”

  “August helped you?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised.”

  “I was pretty sure my brother was going to castrate you.”

  “Oh, I’m not entirely sure he still won’t, but he wanted to do something for your truck as well. Especially with the juke theme going on. He got all into it.” He shrugged. “I’m the music man. I can wire anything into any board you give me. Even a taco truck from the nineties.”

  I let out a laugh. “And you guys did this for me?” The tears were close again. I didn’t know what was up with these baby hormones, but I was not a fan of the plethora of tears that were always so close to the surface.