Page 49 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)
“Sorry,” I say automatically, hating that I’ve bothered her. “I can let you go. We can talk later. When do you get off? Or, actually, you could just call me tomorrow?—”
“Oh, stop it,” she scolds. “You don’t send four SOS texts and sixteen crying emojis if it can wait until tomorrow.”
Had it really been sixteen? Yikes.
“Cami? Come on, out with it.”
I wince but force myself to admit the awful truth aloud. She’s my best friend, after all. Other than Ben and my brother, Kingslay, she’s the person I trust most in the world. Which is why she knows every single detail of my life.
Except this latest one, which is why I texted in the first place. “I think I might have done something stupid,” I admit in a small voice.
“Um, yeah, I know about that, remember?”
“Hey,” I protest, wounded. “You do not. I didn’t tell you yet!”
“Really?” she scoffs from the other line. “What could be more stupid than telling the man you love you might be carrying another man’s baby?”
Damn, my hormones are on a hair-line trigger. “Listen,” I say, my voice thick. “Just call me back when you can talk, ‘kay?”
“Shit,” Rayna swears. “I’m really losing my bedside manner—you’re the third pregnant lady I’ve made cry today.”
“The third?” I hiccup, the sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh.
“Never mind. What is it, sweetie? Come on, I know you wouldn’t have texted if it wasn’t important, so what’s wrong?”
I take a deep breath and force myself to let it out slowly. Though part of me wants to insist she call me later, if she hangs up, I’ll be right back where I started: anxious without anyone to talk to. “I may have posted a question on ‘Am I the Ass-hole’.”
There’s a long pause on the other end. I can almost picture Rayna trying to hold back her snappy remarks, because where I’m soft and uncertain, she’s quick-witted and sarcastic. We’re the perfect complement to each other… most of the time.
“What about?” she asks at last. “About telling Ben?”
“No.” I can’t help but wince at how tiny and pitiful I sound. “I asked… I was wondering what they thought about me, you know… telling the possible other father.”
I hear a sharp intake of breath on the other line. “Cami… I thought you and Ben agreed?—”
“I know!” I cut her off. “I know what I said. I know we made a plan, and I want Ben in my life no matter what, you know that.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Your bedside manner is slipping,” I snap, wiping a tear off my cheek.
“I’m sorry, Cami.” To her credit, she does sound apologetic. “It’s not my place to judge. So, what did they say?”
Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? Because if hundreds of strangers dub you an asshole in a matter of minutes, it must be true.
“People seemed to think it was a good idea… the right thing to do if I?—”
“Cami, please don’t post on that site ever again. In fact, maybe stay off social media until you’re feeling a little more…”
“Stable?” I quip.
“Like yourself,” she replies. “Now, listen, I am truly sorry but Mrs. Philman’s water just broke, and I can hear her screaming for an epidural from here. But I’ll call you later. Listen, honey, stick to the plan, okay? You and Ben together—whatever you two decide.”
My stomach plummets and I quickly promise to call Rayna back later. Then I pocket my cell and turn to face the apartment door. Ben isn’t supposed to be home for hours yet, but the doorknob is turning.
“Hey.” I greet him with a weak smile.
His expression is as somber as my tone.
“Hey… you okay?” The door has barely closed behind him when Ben runs his hands over his hair. Something about the gesture makes me even more on edge than I already feel. “Ben?”
“Cami… I’ve been thinking.”
Oh, crap. Oh crap oh crap oh crap!
I swallow over the lump in my throat. “Yeah?”
This is it. The moment that he tells me he’s had time to think, and maybe we should take some time apart after all… and a paternity test…
“Maybe…” He blows out his breath and refuses to meet my eyes.
His evasiveness is making my tummy hurt. “Just spit it out, Ben.” I lift my head and throw my shoulders back. “Just say what you have to say… whatever it is.”
Finally, he raises his head, and the shame and the sadness in his baby blues makes me want to sob.
But I’m only six weeks along, and already tired of my tendency to tears. I force them back and make myself be brave instead.
I know what he’s going to say. He’s going to say it’s too much… and who could blame him? He’s had time to think, and this isn’t what he wants. Maybe, if the baby is his, we’ll be able to make it work. But if it’s not…
“I didn’t sleep well last night,” he admits, struggling for a smile.
“I bet,” I whisper, my tummy in a six-point knot.
“And the thing is, Cami… Camille…”
He’s using my full name. Shit . That means this is serious.
“I think we need to let the other guy know. That he might be the father, I mean.”
My eyes widen. “W-what?”
He makes a face. “I know, I know… There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to, either. That doesn’t think he deserves to know. But?—”
Before he can say another word, I’m vaulting toward him and throwing my arms around him. I bury my face into his chest and take deep, shuddering breaths.
His arms close around me and he hugs me close, kissing the side of my head. “What’s all this? What’s wrong, baby?”
Hearing him call me baby in that tender, reassuring voice of his does more to me than even getting late night action. Maybe everything will be okay after all. And if Ben needs a paternity test for any reason at all, shouldn’t I give that to him? As long as he’s wanting to be a we –an us ?
“I just… are you saying… I thought maybe you were saying you want… wanted…”
“Wanted what, baby?” He caresses my hair and presses another kiss to the side of my head. “What is it?”
“I thought…” I force myself to say my worst fear out loud. “I thought you maybe don’t want to be with me anymore.” As soon as the last syllable leaves my mouth, I press my face into him, forcing my tears back at bay.
He tightens his arms around me and murmurs into my hair, “Cami, no, of course not. Two days was more than enough to learn I don’t want to be apart from you—not ever again. Do you hear me?”
I force myself to look up at him, and I’m so relieved I don’t care that I’m now crying.
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry you thought that, even for a second.” He brushes my tears away with his thumb.
“I feel so silly,” I admit. “My emotions are all over the place.”
“That’s okay.” He kisses me again. “Do you feel better?”
I smile shyly and nod. “Yes, Daddy.”
His smile breaks out and feels like the clouds parting on a rainy day. “There’s my good girl.”
“So…” I sniffle. “What you were saying earlier… you think we should tell Ryle?”
“Yeah.” That pained look is back on his face, equal parts shame and regret.
I almost forgot about it until I see it flash across his face again. “Ben… is that it? Or is there something else?”
“Well, yeah… kind of.”
My brows raise quizzically. I’m not used to seeing him like this—usually I’m the one looking abashed. “What is it?”
“The guy… Ryle?”
“Uh-huh?”
“He’s outside.”