TELLING MY MOM AND Dad that I am pregnant is awful. I feel like a teenager. Just getting the words past my lips is the most strenuous thing I’ve ever done. Sitting across the table from them, watching their faces go blank in shock.
“I don’t understand,” Mom says, blinking at me. Apparently, she doesn’t like the idea of being a grandmother yet. I thought, “I’m pregnant,” was pretty clear.
“What is there not to understand, Linda? Our daughter is pregnant.”
She shakes her head. “I spent years drilling into your head safe sex.”
“Mom, it happened, and I’m not a teenager. I’m twenty-five, have a successful career, and own my own home. You and Dad were younger than I am now when you had Cameron. I was on birth control but didn’t use a condom. It’s rare, but it happens.” Not lies. I was on birth control, and that was my fault. The condoms, however, were an oops that shouldn’t have happened.
“Watch it, Everly. We were also married when we had your brother. You’ve just told us that our only daughter, our very single daughter, is pregnant with her first child after abruptly moving across the country with no warning, selling her home there and buying a new one here, and taking a new job. Excuse your mother for being a little shell-shocked as this is a lot to take in. We expected Cameron to come home one day and tell us he got some poor young lady pregnant, but never did we expect this news from you.” I knew my dad would feel this way, so I’m not saying anything because he is right.
“Is it Tate’s?” Mom asks, her brow scrunched.
I steal a glance at Cam who quirks a brow at me. He doesn’t believe me, and with good reason. The problem is, I can’t tell anyone who the father is right now.
“I’m not with the father, but that doesn’t matter. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of a child on my own. I just wanted you to know.”
“Of course it matters! Everly, he has a right to know that he has a child coming. Is that why you came home?” my mother asks, but my father just stares over my shoulder looking out of the window behind me.
I shake my head. “No. I left because Tate was a lying, cheating piece of pond scum, and I had to get away.”
“He’s harassing her.” That has my father’s attention. He turns and looks at me and then my brother.
“Cam!” I hiss, glaring at my brother. His intentions are good but unnecessary. Tate is harmless, just annoying.
“Do we need to get the lawyer on the phone? File a restraining order? He has a legal right, but he has legal obligations as well. We can get our attorney on this right away. He won’t have a chance in hell if he’s harassing you while you’re pregnant.”
I roll my eyes. “A restraining order? Dad, he’s over three thousand miles away. He’s just a pest. It will die down.”
“Ev, it’s been over three months. How often is he contacting you?” Cam asks, and I want to kick him.
My phone chooses that second to go off, and I let out a groan and look up at the ceiling.
Thanks, Tate, you fucking asshole.
Cam picks up my phone and turns the screen toward my parents. “Speak of the asshole,” he says and presses the green button on my phone, accepting the call. “Hello, Tate.”
“Cameron!” I whisper-yell, trying to grab my phone from his hands. I can hear the tone of Tate’s voice, but I can’t hear what he’s saying.
“No, asshole. This is her brother, not that it would be any of your damn business who the fuck answers her phone. You lost that right when you fucked around on my sister,” he says, and again, I can hear Tate saying something, but I can’t hear what his reply is.
I’m sure it’s bullshit, but I still want to hear.
“Never mind all that shit. Save that BS for someone who doesn’t know shit when they hear it. Listen up, Tate, and listen good, because I’m only going to warn you once. Stay the fuck away from my sister. Don’t call, don’t text, don’t fucking email. She’s done with you. I know she’s told you because I’ve seen the text messages she sent you saying just that.” Cam’s eyes find mine, and he stares straight at me. “She doesn’t need the stress on top of being pregnant, so do us all a favor and cut the shit. When she decides to talk to you, she’ll contact you. Until then, fuck off, asshole!”
He is still staring straight at me as he pulls the phone away and hits end call, holding the phone out to me. I can feel the blood drain from my face in horror before it floods back in from anger.
“Cameron! What did you just do?” Oh my God. He just told Tate that I’m pregnant. He’s going to think this baby is his! “I can’t believe you just did that.” I drop my head into my hands. Jesus . . . He just opened a whole new can of worms now.
Worst of all, Cameron is daring me to call him a liar, and I don’t flinch. Not that I have any reason to. He told Tate that I’m pregnant, nothing about Tate being the father.
“This is ridiculous. We’re going to change your number. Right now,” Dad says.
I shake my head. “Dad, I did that a few weeks after I moved here, remember? It didn’t do any good. Within a week he got ahold of the new number. Probably from one of my friends who believed his bullshit and felt sorry for him.”
“Then we’ll get you a number under our plan.”
“Richard, we can’t do that. He’s the father of our grandchild.” Mom turns to me. “You are going to give him a chance to fix things, right?”
I shake my head almost vehemently. “No.”
“The financial damage alone, Mom,” Cam says. “He knows how much money she has, and I would not put it past him to extort money.”
As much as I hate to admit it, Cam’s right. It would get ugly, and he would use the child as a pawn.
What am I saying? I’m beginning to believe what they believe, that Tate is the father. What the hell did I just get myself into? This isn’t good. This is getting worse by the second.
“He knows how much money you have? What does that mean?” Dad asks, his eyes wide.
I hold my hands up. “He knows I have a trust fund, but not the amount. But, Dad, I make six figures, which is about twice what he makes.”
“She can leave the father part of the birth certificate blank; they’re not married. She has no obligation to list him,” Cam suggests.
Dad’s eyes go wide, and he looks to Mom. Doing that spells scandal. People would find out, would talk.
My head is killing me, and the stress of the situation is taking its toll. I’m almost to the point of screaming out, “Niko is the father, all right? Nikolas Callahan fucked me one night after a few too many drinks.” However, that wouldn’t do any good right now. It would only make this conversation worse.
“When is the baby due?” Mom asks after a minute of silence.
“Um, March first.”
Mom blinks and looks at me. Stares at me more like it, her fingers ticking on the table. She’s counting, and I realize the problem with my lie.
The numbers don’t match.
I lock eyes with her, pleading not to ask, not to question.
She purses her lips and gives a little nod. “Well, that leaves us plenty of time to figure out how to handle the situation.”
Dad slams his hands on the table before pushing his chair back. “Cameron, let’s go make a drink.”
Cam and I exchange looks before he pulls back and follows Dad to the parlor where his cognac supply is.
Oh, boy.
We watch them head down the hall before Mom gets up and sits in the chair next to me. “Everly, who is the father?” Mom asks in a whisper, making sure Dad and Cam are out of earshot.
I shake my head. “I can’t tell you. Not yet.”
“Everly.”
“Please,” I stress. “I’ll tell you, I just can’t right now.”
She nods and wraps her arms around me. “I love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
She pulls back, a forced smile below her worry-filled eyes. “Well, what’s done is done, so now we need to get ready for the coming bundle of joy.” A sharp “Oh!” combined with her eyes going wide and her mouth popping open means only one thing, and probably a lot of money. “We can get Clara Langley, you remember her, right? She designed your cousin Kiki’s wedding. Anyway, she’s a party planner, and I just love how she handled the wedding. After that, Sarah McMillan hired her for their annual season-opening party down the cape, and it was to die for.”
“Mom, seriously? I haven’t lived here in almost eight years.”
She blinks at me. “That doesn’t mean we don’t have family or friends we want to invite.”
“Your socialite is screaming.”
“Oh, hush,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “Just answer me this . . . is there going to be an issue with the father?”
I shake my head. “No. He surprised me. He was angry when I told him he didn’t need to be involved.”
“Really? Do you love this man?”
I roll my eyes. “Mom.”
“I’m just asking.”
“It’s complicated right now, and maybe in a few months it won’t be so complicated.”
That seems to appease her, and for the first time since I told her our family is expanding, a genuine smile lights up her face. “All right, well . . . Where are you going to put the baby’s room?”
“It’s a good thing I bought a three bedroom.”
It’s been a stressful, annoying, lie-filled day, and I’m exhausted. This feeling of ick and disgust is why I hate lying. The only reason I’m doing it is for Niko’s sake. Not entirely accurate, but mostly. He’s the one who will be damaged the most when it comes out.
“Oh, hi, Everly,” Grant says as he exits the door not ten feet from my own.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
He nods, and I can hear Jojo whining on the other side of the door. It’s been a few years since I shared a wall with someone. “Good. You?”
“Not bad. About to rescue your dog and take her upstairs for a snuggle.”
He laughs, a sound that warms me. It’s smooth, natural. The fact that he’s handsome and sexy only adds to his appeal, but it doesn’t escape my mind that he doesn’t hold a candle, in my mind or body, to Niko.
“Without me?” he asks, a shy smile on his lips that makes me miss the cocky one I dream of.
“Girls’ sleepover. No boys allowed,” I say. It’s the gentlest way I can turn him down. My life is way too complicated right now to even entertain the idea of being with Grant. He’s the safe one, but I don’t want safe. I want cocky.
Grey eyes, muscular arms, tattoos, and lips that make me weak.
He nods. “Well, I better get going. Have to pick up Ella. Good seeing you.”
“You too.”
He jogs down the steps, then turns back. “Oh, I almost forgot, I’m having a party next weekend. Would love for you to come.”
I give him a polite smile and nod. “Sounds great. Text me the details.”
The second I’m through the door, I blow out a breath, lock the door again, and trudge my tired ass upstairs. The exhaustion sweeping me has been intense lately, coming in waves. More than once this week I found my head against my desk mid-afternoon and have been scared out of my mind when my phone rang, or someone knocked on my door, startling me awake.
Then there’s the vomiting. I’m so tired of having my head stuck in the toilet or sink or trash can. I’ve lost five pounds in the last two weeks because I can’t keep any food down. Dry heaves are the worst. I thought it was called morning sickness, not all the damn time of the day sickness.
It sucks. I just want to curl into a ball, pull the blankets over my head, and sleep until it goes away. I do just that when I hear my doorbell ring. I let out a groan and ignore it. No way am I getting up. I finally feel like I can fall asleep without puking myself awake.
The bell rings again, followed by knocking. I take a deep breath in and pull myself up into a sitting position, waiting for the dizziness to pass. It doesn’t seem like whoever is at my door is going away. I toss my legs to the side of the bed and pull myself up.
I don’t feel so bad right now, and so I make my way slowly downstairs to the door. I see his silhouette and know right away who it is. Even though I know it’s him, I’m still never prepared to see him, and as usual, my heart races along with those butterflies I get in my stomach that has nothing to do with morning sickness.
“Niko? What are you doing here?” I ask.
He pulls his arms up with a multitude of bags hanging from his hands. “Dinner.”
I open the door and let him by. Was this planned and I forgot? Did he message me? I’m tired and confused and, after the day I’ve had, not sure if I’m happy or annoyed that he showed up possibly unannounced.
“Seriously? What is all this?”
“Well, I didn’t know what you’d be craving, so I kind of just bought a little of everything.”
I can’t help the way my lips draw up. It’s sweet. It really is. Niko is trying; he’s just a little too early in the process for crazy food cravings.
“Thank you.”
He beams at me. “You’re welcome.”
“I’m not sure I can eat right now, but you can eat.”
“Why?” He tilts his head to the side, inspecting me. A look of concern crossing his handsome face. “Now that you mention it, you look pale, Ev. You okay?’
“I think so. They say it will pass hopefully once I’m out of my first trimester.”
“What will? Looking like you’re dying? Whatever is going on, it can’t be good for you or the baby. You look really pale.”
“Gee, thanks!”
“I don’t mean it like that, babe, but you look like you feel terrible. If you’re not going to go in, at least eat something light?”
“Yeah, maybe,” I concede before leaning over to look into the bags. “What did you bring?”
He smiles and starts pulling containers from the bags he set down.
“I’ve got a little of everything. Wasn’t sure what you’d be craving, so I even brought pickles and ice cream. Neapolitan, so you can pick a flavor.” He lets out a laugh.
“Pickles? That doesn’t sound good with ice cream, Niko.”
“What? I thought all pregnant women liked pickles?”
“I don’t know about all women, but that doesn’t sound appealing at all. It sounds pretty gross.” I hold my hand over my mouth. “Yeah, no to the pickles and ice cream.”
“Okay. It’s gone,” he says, throwing the pickles back in the bag and slipping the ice cream into the freezer. “Noted. Just don’t puke because I’ll likely throw up with you.”
That makes me giggle. I start to walk to the kitchen, but my bell rings again. Who could that be? Then it hits me.
Oh shit! “What if it’s Cam? Go hide!”
“Everly . . .”
“Please?” I plead. He blows out a puff of air before conceding.
“I’ll go this time, but Everly, he needs to be told. This is my kid too. Things are different now, and I don’t want him to find out from anyone else. It’s only going to make things worse.”
“I know. We’ll tell him. Just not yet, okay?” He doesn’t say anything, just walks from the room. I turn and go to my front doorway, but when I get there, I see that it’s not Cam, it’s Grant. I open the door to Grant and find his daughter, Ella, standing beside him, a wry smile on her dad’s face as he rubs the back of his neck.
“Ah hey, Everly. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Hi! Can you have dinner with us? We’re making burgers on the grill, and Daddy burns them.”
I laugh at the little girl’s straightforwardness. “Hi Ella, right?”
“Yes, and you’re Everly. Daddy said we could ask you to come over for our cookout. Can you come over? I just got a new Pinkie Pie. You can play with it if you want to.”
“Pinkie Pie?”
“It’s a toy horse. My Little Pony. She’s addicted to the show, and the dolls.” He rubs the top of Ella’s head, and I have to admit, the two of them are cute. It’s evident to me that little Miss Ella has her dad wrapped around her finger.
“Ahh, I see. Well, I’m delighted that you would trust me with your pinkie pie, Ella, but I’m afraid I’m not feeling very well today, so I’ve been resting this afternoon. I only just got up a few minutes ago actually.”
Her little face falls, but then she looks up at her dad before speaking again. “That’s okay. I can bring my Pinkie Pie over for you. She always makes me feel better when I have a belly ache. Daddy says she’s got magic.”
“Oh, no, sweetie. I wouldn’t take your new toy, but thank you for offering. I feel special that you would let me borrow your favorite new toy.”
“Not that one. My first Pinkie Pie. The one that my mommy gave me. Daddy says that because she gave it to me, that she gave it her magic before she died, and now Pinkie Pie watches over me so that when I’m not feeling good, I’m not alone.”
Oh my God, her mom died? How awful. She’s so young. I look up to Grant who looks away, but it’s brief. He changes the subject quickly, and I know that he’s not willing to say anything. Well, that explains where her mother is. I crouch down in front of her so that I’m eye level with the little girl who sounds much older than her six years of age, and I try not to fall over.
“I bet your mommy would be very proud of the fact that you were extra kind to me knowing I didn’t feel well, but I think I’ll be okay. So you just hold onto that treasure your mom left for you, and maybe, when I’m feeling a little better, we can have another cookout. How does that sound?”
Ella’s face lights up, and her colossal smile takes up almost her entire bottom half of her face. She’s beautiful. Grant is going to have his hands full with her once the boys start knocking.
“That sounds good. Yay, Daddy! She’s going to eat over at our house when she feels better. That’s okay, right, Daddy?”
“Sure, sweet pea. Why don’t we let Everly get some rest, though, and we can start the grill. Then you and I can take Jojo for her walk after dinner. Sound good?”
“You’re gonna have to give Jojo something else, Daddy. She didn’t like your burgers last time either.”
“Your burgers sound rough, neighbor.” I laugh, then look back at Ella who’s holding her dad’s hand now. “I’ll see what I can do when we have our cookout. I might even have some treats for Jojo when I come by.”
“I’m going to tell her! She knows what treats are. She shakes her tail.” Ella wiggles her butt to emulate Jojo. “Daddy says that means she’s happy to see us or she’s just excited for food. Do you have a dog too?”
“Ella . . .”
“It’s fine. No, sweetie. No dogs yet. My parents have dogs, though. I love them, but my mom won’t let me keep them, so I just visit.”
“Oh.” She looks as if she’s contemplating her next question, but Grant picks her up.
“Well, I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well. Let me know if you need anything. I’m just next door. I’m going to take her home and feed her before she talks your ear off.”
I laugh again and stand up now that Ella is almost eye to eye with me while she’s in her dad’s arms.
“Let us know what day next week you are available. I’ll buy the meat if you promise to cook it. Ella’s not lying about my cooking skills. I’m terrible, but I’m getting better.”
“Hey. At least you try. My brother couldn’t even boil water when he moved out of my parents’ house. Pretty sure he’s still the take-out king. You at least get an A for effort. I’m sure it’s not that bad.” He scrunches his nose up, and it’s cute. I immediately wonder how Niko will be once our child is here. Oh crap! Niko!
“Well, thank you for inviting me. See you later, Ella.”
“Mmmm hmmm, Daddy, can we go walk Jojo now?” He shakes his head at her and then smiles at me as he heads for the stairs.
“Hope you feel better, Everly. Talk to you soon?”
“Oh yeah. I’ll remind myself to look at my schedule. Thank you!” I yell and close the door.
I pad down the hall and find Niko leaning against the kitchen island. His arms are crossed in front of him, and there is a scowl plastered on his face. Ignoring him, I pull out a pad of Post-its and write a note, sticking it to the fridge. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Niko shake his head.
“Happy to see I’m not the only one who gets the star treatment.”
I quirk my brow at him. “Never going to let that go, are you?”
He shakes his head, then gestures toward the front door. “Who was that guy you were talking to?”
I scrunch my brow. Guy? “You mean Grant?” I roll my eyes as I glance over to Niko and his steely gaze. “He’s my neighbor. You know, the owner of the other half of this building.”
“He seems friendly.”
I cock my hip to the side and lean against the counter. “Really?”
“What?”
“Niko, we’re not in a relationship,” I remind him. “You’re not allowed to be jealous.”
“You’re carrying my kid,” he says as if that’s enough.
“And he has a kid that was at the door with him.”
“What’s your point? He was totally using the kid to make his move on you. Does he know that you are carrying my kid?”
I match his stance, arms laced in front of me, and I let out a huff. “It may be your kid, but I’m not yours. You just charge over here without calling, expecting me to be free. What if I had a guy over? What if I had Grant over?”
His eyes narrow and rounds the corner, towering over me in a flash, his hand slipping between my thighs, making me gasp.
“Oh, Ev, you know it’s only me who makes you feel this way. My cock makes you come so good. And weren’t you going to stop acting like an ice queen, and stop pushing me away?”
My whole body slouches. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I feel like I’m two people lately, maybe three.”
His hand moves around my hip, and he pulls me closer. “You know how you can make it up to me?”
“On my knees?”
His tongue swipes across his lips. “Oh, baby, that’s one way and so fucking tempting right now.” He groans, his eyes heavy as he reaches to adjust his cock. “You distracted me, and as much as I’d love to fuck your mouth, I want you to see that there is more to this than just sex. What you can do to make it up to me is agree to go out to dinner with me on Tuesday.”
“I suppose I could do that, but what if I start feeling bad?”
He steps even closer, his hand slipping around my waist, his body pressing against mine. I reach out and rest my hand against his chest, feeling the hard, taut muscle beneath his shirt.
“We can play it by ear. I’ll be here, no matter what. You’ll agree to let me help and take care of you if that happens, and then you’ll agree to be mine and stop this shit about other guys as an attempt to push me away.”
Heat spreads through my body, and I can’t help running my hands over his chest, around his shoulders and up around his neck. Everything about him is hypnotic.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“Okay, I’ll be yours.”
He leans down, his lips ghosting mine. “About fucking time.” He growls before devouring my mouth, and I forget everything else but Niko.