“You got married?! To this…this…whore?”

Whore?

Oh, no she didn’t!

I’m about to throat punch Shari, but Jonah puts his hand on my arm to stop me.

Honest to God, I hadn’t expected this today, not after the wonderful night Jonah and I had in the honeymoon suite. We’d only just gotten home and put Daisy to bed for her nap, when Shari showed up at the door, screaming and ranting and calling me names.

I glare at her. I’m angry—not at the name calling, that I can handle. I’m angry that she didn’t list Jonah as the father, that Zander had to run around to get the name of the doctor, that she left no instructions for Jonah, and neglected to tell him about her shots.

“Don’t you ever call her that.”

Jonah’s voice holds a level of warning that frightens even me. Shari, however, doesn’t seem fazed.

“Hand Daisy over,” she demands.

“No. I’m going for custody, Shari. You disappear, show up here drunk, and then threaten me, call my wife names?”

She looks at Jonah—then laughs in his face. A chilling laugh that prowls through my blood and sets off alarm bells. Why is she laughing like she knows something we don’t? My stomach sours and bile punches into my throat. Oh, this isn’t good. This isn’t good at all.

“Hand her over, Jonah! She’s not even yours.”

Jonah stands there, his entire body stiff, then he falters backward, like he’d just been sucker punched. I suppose he has been. We both have been. I put my arms around him, to help absorb the shock as my own body begins to shake almost uncontrollably.

“You’re lying,” he finally says through clenched teeth.

Shari plants one hand on her hip and inches her chin up. “No, I’m not.”

As if refusing to believe any of this, he shoots back with, “Then why did you tell me she was mine, and drop her off here to bond with me?” He puts his hand on his stomach, like he’s about to vomit, too.

“Not only are you a big fucking deal now, Jonah, when I found out I was pregnant, Zander was in love with Liz. He wasn’t going to marry me, and Daisy and I need to be taken care of. But now…” She throws a disgusted look my way. “Her.”

Jonah grips the back of his neck, like his head is about to split in two. His eyes are wide, frightened, and it takes me back to the day Zander called me to help and I showed up here, Jonah nursing a hangover.

“Jesus, Shari, tell me you’re lying. Tell me Daisy is mine.”

“She’s not.” Her gaze leaves Jonah and goes to me, and I plant my feet, ready to shove her out the door if need be. “Why do you think she has your eyes?”

“Oh. My. Fuck,” I say, and sink onto the bottom step of the staircase.

Jonah drops down next to me, and I’m guessing his legs are as weak as mine as the pieces fall in to place.

“Daisy is Zander’s?” I blurt out.

“Jesus, Shari, what the hell is wrong with you? Why would you do this? Fuck, I knew the condom didn’t break that night, and Daisy is almost a month younger than you led me to believe.” He shakes his head. “You were with Zander after me?”

As Jonah works out the details, I grab my phone and call Zander. When he answers, I tell him to get here right away. I hang on to Jonah, my heart pounding in my ears, disorienting me as I take all this in.

Shari snarls at him, “Get a paternity test done, Jonah. I’ll be by tomorrow to collect my daughter. Have her ready.”

With that, Shari leaves, and Jonah and I stare at each other, neither speaking, barely breathing as we sort through this turn of events. Twenty minutes later we’re both still on the steps, unmoving, the front door still wide open after Shari’s departure.

Zander comes through it, and when he sees us, his entire body stiffens. “What?” he asks and glances up the stairs, panic on his face. “Is Daisy okay?”

I nod, and push to shaky feet. Jonah stands with me.

“Zander,” I begin. How do I tell my brother he’s Daisy’s father? “Let’s sit.”

We all move into the living room, and Zander leans forward, braces his elbows on his knees. “Does someone want to tell me what’s going on? You both look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Daisy…” Jonah begins. “She’s not mine.”

“What the fuck?”

“She’s yours,” he says quietly, like he’s trying to soften the blow.

Zander stares at us, like we’re playing a joke on him, then he pinches his eyes shut. “Jesus,” is all he says.

“We’ll get the tests done,” I say. “To be sure this time.”

“Daisy’s mine? I’m her…father,” he says, like he’s trying the word on for size.

“Yeah, Shari just left, and we took Daisy to the doctor yesterday. She’s younger than Shari led me to believe.”

“She was trying to trap him, Zander. Don’t let her do that to you,” I say.

“I’m a father,” he says again.

Jonah nods. “Looks like I’m the uncle.”

Zander shakes his head. “Could this be any more fucked up?”

Jonah leans forward, grips his knees. “Dad will help with the custody papers. Anything you need. I don’t think Shari really wants her, she just wants to use her as a bargaining chip.”

“How am I going to take care of a child if I’m on the road? Christ, Jonah, training starts next week in Seattle.”

“I’ll help you,” I say quickly. “Daisy is my niece. When I finally get my own center, I can take her to work with me every day.”

“Then we’re getting you that center sooner rather than later,” Zander says.

“Zander—” I begin. He’s always trying to pay my way, but I don’t feel right about that.

“Damn right you are,” Jonah says, and looks around his mansion. “We can convert half this place into a center for you. I’ve been thinking about that for a while now, anyway.”

I sit there, flabbergasted, as the two guys I love with all my heart start discussing the details of my new daycare center. I hold my hands up to stop them.

“Hello. I’m right here. Don’t you think I should have a say in this?”

Jonah reaches for my hand. “When you decided to help me—or rather, Daisy—I told you I’d make it worth your while. Let me do this for you,” he says.

I take a long moment to think about it. Think about what is best for everyone. I want to help raise Daisy, and help my brother, give him security when he’s away, so I swallow my pride and say, “How about this. I found this really great space in the city, I just need first and last months’ rent. If you can loan it to me, then—”

“It’s not a loan if I’m your husband, Quinn. You don’t have to pay it back.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, my heart falls into my stomach. Now that the baby isn’t his, there’s no need for us to keep pretending.

Zander must sense my unease. He stands and says, “I’m going to go talk to your father, Jonah. If I really am Daisy’s father, I need to get a plan in place.”

“Zander,” I say, and stand up, taking his hand in mine. “You okay?”

He thinks about it for a moment. “I love that little girl as much as you guys do. I eventually wanted kids, it just happened sooner rather than later. And I know I’m not alone in this. I have a great support system. Speaking of that, will you guys help me get my place set up for her, get a nanny right way?”

“Of course,” I say, having never loved my brother more.

“How about I have all her things brought to your place? Maybe Quinn and I can stay the week with her, until she gets used to it.”

“What about Shari?” Zander asks.

“We’ll deal with her in the courts. If she really wanted Daisy, she would have taken her today.”

I give Zander a hug and, after he leaves, I turn to Jonah. He’s running his hand through his hair. What Shari did was so not fair to this man but now—now that Daisy isn’t his—where does that leave us?

Oh, how I wanted this marriage to be real, to be a mother to that child. But deep down, Jonah’s first love is hockey, a free lifestyle, and I can’t compete with that. He stepped up because it was the right thing to do, not because he was ready to be a father or a husband.

I tug the ring off my finger and hold it out to him. His gaze narrows in on it. “I guess you should get your dad to draw up the divorce papers.” I laugh, but it comes out shaky. “I think that might have been the shortest marriage in history.”

He stares at me for a long time. “Is that what you want?”

Tell him, Quinn. Tell him what you really want.

But what if I do tell him I want to stay married? Would he even agree? We were playing house, right? Having fun. But what if he did agree? Would he end up resenting me, because he’s not really ready for a family? In the end, resentment leads to abandonment, right?

“Yes,” I finally say, not just for my sake, but for his too.