Page 89

Me: Obviously.

Sorel: He better be handing out orgasms like party favors at a club.

Me: Speaking of none of that, when are you due, and can I deliver your baby?

Sorel: Any freaking minute, and hopefully tomorrow since it’s my day off and Mason is officially done with football until the summer except for workouts. And absolutely not. We’re family and I love you, but your hands are not going in my vagina. Especially not when you have a broken freaking wrist.

Again, touché.

“You coming?”

“What?” I sputter, my freaking face heating once again.

“You’re standing on the dock in the blazing sun instead of coming inside.”

Oh. Right. That.

“Yes. I’m coming.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “What has you blushing like a virgin?” Loomis asks, his eyebrow raised.

“Nothing,” I say too quickly. “Just girl talk.”

“Girl talk about me, from the look on your face,” he observes dryly. “You better be touting my sexual prowess, Keegan Fritz, or I’ll have to film us and post it.”

I gasp. “You wouldn’t dare. Fritzes do not make sex tapes. Nor should single dads actively dealing with the Department of Child and Family Services.”

“Such a buttoned-up little mermaid.”

I follow him toward the house as I slip my phone into my pocket and place one hand on his back. “I wouldn’t go that far. I’ve told them all how you’re horrible in bed along with all your dirty secrets. I also told them how you like it when I call you Daddy.”

He chokes and misses a half step, stumbling but catching himself quickly.

“Daddy?”

I grin. “Haven’t tried that one yet.”

“Maybe tonight I’ll spank your pretty arse and make you call me Daddy.”

I belt out a laugh, especially when he spanks my ass.

My phone buzzes again, and I pull it out expecting more teasing from my friends. Instead, I see a different name that sends a jolt through my system.

Alden: I need to talk to you ASAP. It’s important. Can you call when you get a chance? I’m around for most of the afternoon and evening.

My stomach tightens. I haven’t spoken to Alden since right after we got here. He also stopped texting or calling afterour last conversation. I slide the phone back into my pocket without responding. I don’t want Loomis to see his message. The problem with happiness is that it creates something to lose. Standing next to Loomis as he holds Fen, I’m keenly aware of just how much that is.

“He’s almost asleep,” Loomis whispers as our feet hit the grass about a hundred yards from the cottage. “I should put him down for his nap.”

“Go ahead,” I agree. “I need to call my parents anyway.” The lie feels like acid on my tongue.

He kisses me, a quick press of lips that carries the promise of more later, and takes Fen into the house. My stomach plummets with what I’m about to do.

When they disappear inside, I pull out my phone again and stare at Alden’s message. My thumb hovers over the call button. Whatever Alden wants, it can’t be good news. People who bring good news don’t label it as important and require you to call them back ASAP.

I walk to the edge of the pool and sit down, letting my feet dangle in the water. I should tell Loomis about the text. That’s what people in healthy relationships do. They communicate and shit. It’s what we said we’d do with each other, and I don’t know why I lied now other than if it’s simply Alden calling again to say he wants me back, then it’s a useless conversation on both accounts.

But what if it’s not that?