Page 88 of A Cold Hard Truth

“Then why propose? Why go through the whole thing?” he asked.

Rhys dragged his tongue across the front of his teeth. “That’s not what I’m here to talk about.”

“You know you’ve never had to answer for it. For Ashley, for Callahan, for this.”

“Your wife is pregnant, Sebastian. Stop trying to deflect.”

The list of things Sebastian had wanted in his life had never included being a father.

“It might not be mine,” he whispered. “If she slept with you, she could have…”

“Could have.” Rhys sipped his coffee. “You married a clever woman, Sebastian. I’ll give you that much.”

“You should have stopped me,” he muttered.

“You know how I feel about marriage.”

“I thought I did,” Sebastian snapped. “You had a good run of bachelorhood after Callahan.”

“That’s not what I’m here about,” his brother cut him off. “I’m here about your wife and the baby she says is inside of her.”

“You said she didn’t say it was mine.”

“She’s implied as much to me,” Rhys said.

“Is that why you asked for the divorce paperwork?”

“I was curious what sort of restrictions the two of you have on each other. What is tied to money and court and what isn’t.”

“It’s all tied to money,” Sebastian grumbled.

“As it should be. That’s how you end up with actionable consequences.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” He sighed. “About her?”

“That’s up to you. But you should do it from Mallardsville, don’t you think?”

“She’s from here,” he said.

“I know. But she’s there. She’s been there awhile.”

“Why?”

“She’s been busy, Sebastian. Do you want me to draw you a diagram?”

“I hate you.” Sebastian took the half drank mug out of Rhys’s hand and dropped it into the sink, letting it shatter against the cast iron basin. “I don’t know if I’ve told you lately, but I hate you. You ruin everything you touch.”

“Nearly,” Rhys agreed. “But that’s another thing for another day. You need to come home for a bit and throttle your wife. Escort her to the doctor, then we can see what’s what.”

“Rhys,” he protested, weakly. “I can’t just go.”

“You can, Sebastian. And you’re going to. Pack your bags. There’s a car waiting downstairs.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Remington Drinks His Wine

Remington waited until his eyes crossed and he struggled to make sense of the budgetary numbers he’d been poring over all morning before texting Jace to ask about grabbing lunch. He’d forced his way through another half hour of work before packing it up to meet Jace down the street for a bite. His best friend had only been gone for the weekend, but already it had been too long. His absence and the silence of the apartment were overwhelming, but he found replacing them with Sebastian’s moans and sighs had been…beyond suitable.