Page 17

CHAPTER TEN

GIA

“So, the test proved he’s the father, and you haven’t heard from him?” Tyson asks.

Disappointment ripples through me, and I hide the sting of his words by blowing into my hot chocolate. “It’s been over a week.” I confirm.

“How do you know he got the email?”

A knock comes from the front door before I have a chance to respond, and Tyson takes off toward it.

“Who the hell are you?” Reed snarls out, the venom in it unmistakable.

Great. Just great.

He’d have to show up while Tyson is here, freshly showered, and wearing only his gray sweatpants. The man has an eight pack, along with a sleeve of tattoos that sends women into a frenzy. He has those warm-chocolate eyes you beg to devour you, and he finishes the look with short, cropped dark hair. He’s the epitome of a hot military man. He’s also my husband’s best friend.

“Who the hell are you?” Tyson bites back.

Shit, I best defuse this. I scurry toward the front door to witness Reed and Tyson having a face-off with one another. Both have broadened their shoulders, their strong arms crossed over their chests.

I nudge Tyson aside. “Tys, can you take Bryce to practice?”

His eyes snap down to mine. “Is this him?” The sneer on his lips is clear, and I want to shrink away from the conflict behind it, but something about his protective stance has annoyance rumbling inside me. From the moment I told him I was pregnant, he’s taken the big-brother role thing to heart—a little too much, truth be told.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” I plead with my eyes.

His eyes narrow, then he turns on his heel and heads up the stairs with a heavy huff. “Change of plans, dude. I’m taking you to practice. Your mom can meet us there,” he snipes out.

Great, and now he’s making sure I have to go to practice too. Nice work. Dick.

Before I turn back to Reed, he’s pushed his way inside and heading toward the kitchen, but he stops at the photos lining the hallway dresser and lifts the one of us at the cabin, causing a surge of emotion to overcome me.

Never in a million years did I expect the father of my baby to be looking at the father of my son like this. Nor would I have expected to be having another man’s child six years later. Hurt slices through my chest at how things have turned out.

Guilt poisons my veins, and as my bump gives me a little kick, it’s like a reminder to nudge the feeling aside.

“You have a lot of this man,” he whispers, then places the photo down.

I clear my throat. “He’s my… He was my husband.”

Reed stiffens, then walks toward the kitchen. It’s not lost on me that he didn’t head into the living room, given how that experience turned out before.

When he stops at the door to the garden, he turns to face me. “Are you divorced?” His sharp eyes sear into me, and my breath hitches, the intensity behind them almost cutting through me. Wow. Does he think I cheated?

“Widowed,” I whisper, and every ounce of anger falls away as the sadness at confirming my status bleeds from me.

His shoulders sag, and I wonder if it was with relief that I’m single or knowing he didn’t sleep with a married woman. “I’m sorry.” His tone is sincere. “Really fucking sorry.” As his eyes implore mine, I swallow back the emotion lodged in my throat. Then I do what I always do, I lift a shoulder. Having spent years dealing with people’s reactions, I’ve become accustomed to shrugging it off as if it’s an unfortunate event that I’m over. In reality, I never will be.

“Fuck, and he left you with all those kids.” He exhales heavily and throws his arm out toward the door, with horror written all over his face.

My head rears back. “Huh?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not a knight in shining armor, Gia.”

His sandalwood scent wraps around me in the small space, and a flash of his strong arms pinning me to the bed while he thrust his thick cock inside me has me squirming on the spot. The way his abs contracted with each thrust. Oh, sweet Jesus. No, Gia.

He clears his throat, and I tilt my head, my mind scrambling to play catch-up while he continues on. “I’ve had the results.” He swallows thickly. “I can help out financially, bu-but I’m just not sure about anything else.” Dragging his hand through his hair, he exhales heavily. “Fuck,” he says, as if pissed with himself.

But not as pissed as me. He’s not sure about anything else? I clench my teeth. Great, so I’m doing this alone. I hold my hand up to stop him from speaking, and his head rears back.

Clearly, the man is not used to anyone putting him in his place. “I don’t need your help financially.” He wrinkles his pompous nose and scans the small kitchen space, but I ignore him. “I’ve already raised one child without a father, and as much as I wouldn’t have chosen to do it this way again, I’m more than willing to.” I lift my chin and glare into his eyes, giving him no reason to doubt my strength.

“You said one? Is that one of the other kids’ dad?” He motions toward the door, and the front door slams shut. I temporarily close my eyes.

His words replay in my mind, and I open my eyes. Oh no. He thinks… A loud laugh erupts from me, and my eyes water while Reed stares at me with an open mouth like I’m a madwoman. When I finally pull myself together, I swipe the tears from the corners of my eyes, then find Reed staring at my tits. Instead of acknowledging the heated gaze, I push it aside and put him out of his misery.

“I have one child, Reed.” I hold up my finger. “One.”

His handsome face contorts in confusion.

“Tyson”—I throw a thumb over my shoulder—“is my husband’s best friend. He’s in the Army, where he met Jaxon. He’s a close family friend who’s been an amazing support, nothing more. He stays over when he’s on extended leave and helps with Bryce. Plus, he brings Chester with him, and when he leaves, he will drop him with his mother. Bryce loves dogs, and honestly, since Jaxon passed away, it’s helped to divert his attention.” Every muscle in his body relaxes on my words, and I don’t know what he’s more grateful for: Tyson being a family friend or the fact I only have Bryce and not a dozen children, which I’m sure he suspected.

“When did Jaxon pass away?” He winces, and I push the strands of my hair away from my face and lean back against the counter for support.

“Six years ago,” I state.

He scans my face. “Fuck, and you’ve been living here.” He shakes his head, and I swear I want to snap it from his judgmental shoulders. “And your son is how old?”

His questions surprise me, especially given he has shown no interest in my life or our baby’s until now. To be honest, I assumed he wanted nothing to do with us, given his previous outburst.

“Bryce is nine, almost ten.”

Staring down at his feet, he nods, then his eyes lock with mine, and I swear I can see into his soul. His vulnerability flashes across his face, and it remains there, allowing me to see him at his weakest, and I clutch my hand to my chest at the thought.

“I’m so sorry about everything I said to you, Gia.” He swallows thickly. “Really sorry.”

A lump gathers in my throat at the emotion in his tone, and as much as I want to tell him it’s okay, I can’t. I refuse to be a pushover.

Instead, I raise my chin. “It was uncalled for.”

“I know that.”

I lift my hand to stop him, and I’m surprised when he snaps his mouth shut.

“You don’t ever call me a whore again.” The way in which he used those words toward me cut me to my core.

This time, he rolls his lips, as if to disguise the smile, and I wonder if he’s remembering how I begged for more of the words that fell from his filthy mouth. But I won’t be drawn in to his playful demeanor. “I mean it, Reed.”

“Understood.” He nods; all signs of jest erased.

“And I’m a lot of things, but not a liar. Don’t ever accuse me of that again.” My eyes bore into his.

“Of course.”

Without warning, a swift kick comes from within my stomach, and I settle a hand over the movement. “So, you’re going to be a father.” I tilt my head, waiting for his reaction. “And you don’t know if you can be involved?”

He drags a hand through his hair and looks up at the ceiling, then after a deep sigh, his gaze lands on me, and the look of vulnerability makes my heart twist once again. “I’ve never wanted to be father. I don’t know how to be one.”

His words cause a slice of pain to shoot into my chest, exposing a hole so deep it bares my very core, leaving me breathless.

“But I think I’d like to try to be there for you all. I just—” His Adam’s apple slides down his throat. “I don’t know how.” The fact he said “for you all” tells me he means Bryce too, and that hole becomes deeper, but this time, with longing.

“Believe it or not, there’s not an accurate guidebook to parenting, Reed. The real thing is nothing like what is written. I didn’t have a clue about babies when I was pregnant with Bryce.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You didn’t?”

“Nope. It took a lot of learning, and I got things wrong along the way. But I tried my best, and that’s all a good parent can do, you know?”

He nods absentmindedly while I stroke over my stomach. Another movement has me smiling down at my hand, caressing the spot.

“Do you know what you’re having?” He nods toward my bump.

“No. I’ve been in ignorant bliss, hoping to drag the pregnancy out.”

His nose crinkles, and I shake my head at my lame attempt to explain.

“I didn’t want to do it alone, so I was kind of hoping it wasn’t really happening.” I giggle at how ridiculous it sounds.

“It’s definitely happening.” He gestures to bump.

The baby delivers me with yet another swift kick, reminding me I need to feed us, and I rub at my stomach. “Would you like a coffee?” I motion toward the kettle and grab one of the cookies I made for Bryce this morning.

“Is it Luwak?”

My hand comes to a stop on the kettle, and my eyes ping-pong over his face. “Huh?”

“Luwak. Is the coffee Luwak?” He waves his hand toward the coffeepot.

“I-I’m not sure.” I bite on my bottom lip. Is it Luwak?

He winces as if it will pain him to drink it, then he shakes his head. “It’s fine. I’ll have a coffee. Thank you.”

As I turn to make his drink, I can sense his eyes on me, and heat creeps up my spine and over my face at the thought of having his attention.

Jesus, why the hell do I have to be in such a confined space with my hot baby daddy.

As much as I try not to think of that night with Reed, in all honesty, it’s all I can think about.

Since falling pregnant, I’ve been ridiculously horny, and Reed’s face has been the leading role in my nightly dreams that leave me waking up covered in a sheen of sweat, with wetness pooling between my legs. It’s like he’s opened a part of me I never knew existed, and now I’m begging for it.

Constantly.