Page 24

CHAPTER 24

RICHARD

I didn’t exactly lie about having a meeting before rushing from the room. It was one I quickly scheduled in my head with my parents. I needed to get out of there before I caved in on myself.

The heartbeat…

Fuck, that got to me. It just made this whole thing so, so real. I’m not sure why, but my gut is just telling me that’s my child nestled inside of her. I need to get shit situated now. No matter if I’m not responsible for her pregnancy, I still feel like I am.

I’m fairly sure by now, having a family wasn’t in my cards. Not with my requirements and expectations of the woman I end up with, but right now, none of it seems important any longer.

This is happening and I need my parents prepared. Aside from that, my father has been deeply involved with family law for decades, so his advice is necessary. If this were any other scenario, I wouldn’t go to him. In this case, though, I know I’m not thinking clearly, so I need him.

I phone them once I reach my car and inform my mother I’m on my way. Thankfully, my father is partially retired, so most days he’s working from home in his study as a consultant.

As I speed down the highway to my family home, the vision of meeting Miriam’s eyes as she was laid out in front of us all wreaks havoc in my head. It was almost exactly the same as when our eyes met the moment I stuffed my cum inside her tight pussy.

“Fuck!” I shout, slamming my hand on my steering wheel. “Fuck,” I repeat, softer this time. My throat feels as if it’s closing up and I scratch at my throat to ease the uncomfortable feeling. I’m breathing just fine, so it’s not an anxiety attack.

The cars ahead of me begin to blur and I release these fucking emotions gripping me. Powerful emotions I never thought I was capable of feeling after I disconnected them years before when I left Josephine.

“She’s not like them,” I choke out, hoping if I speak it out loud, it’ll resonate. And it does. My pulse slows, so I repeat it internally again. She’s not like them. She’s not looking for a handout or free ride .

She doesn’t want it. I know this, I just have to get my subconscious to recognize it as well. Using the drive, I list out every piece of evidence I have to support the truth I know.

Miriam has never hidden her personality from me. She challenged me from the moment I met her and never backed down, even when I’m sure she realized I had money. She was a generous lover and capitulated to my needs, but she also demanded her wants as well. And, most importantly, she refused the money. She refused it and expressed disdain over how insulted she felt. Her hurt was not faked.

She only told us she was pregnant because it was the right thing to do . If this was a cash grab, she’d have already been demanding money for hospital visits and support, but she’s not. I watched as she handed over her insurance card and paid her copay without hesitation this morning. Never once did she look at any of us to see if we’d open our wallets. Tatum and I both offered when she came back, but we received a glare in response.

Lastly, there’s been no mention from her about one of us taking care of her and the baby after she gives birth. It’s clear she has every intention of doing this on her own, especially considering she’s shot down every offer of help. It may be her pride getting the best of her and we’ll most definitely have a conversation about this down the road, but someone looking to scam us wouldn’t let pride get in their way.

The next question is, how the hell is this going to work? I know it’s too early to start worrying about things, but it’s what I do. I plan and plot. When I see the roadblocks down the road miles away, I figure out a new route before it comes into view.

My phone begins to ring through my car, announcing Tatum Cadelle’s incoming call. I press a button to silence it, not ready to speak to any of them. I just need some time to sort everything in my head. Tatum lives in the moment, the excitement and adrenaline. Not me. I need structure to help me process.

First roadblock I foresee as being an issue is the distance. Miriam lives a few hours away from the rest of us. Needing to be there, especially if something unplanned arises, will be tricky. So that’s the first thing I need to solve.

And… I can’t.

She has her career, school, and her apartment. I have my condo, my practice, and my family here. Briefly, I consider asking her to move, then laugh at myself because I can immediately picture how that conversation is going to go.

The other guys, I’m sure, haven’t even considered logistics yet, but I think they’ll all agree that Tatum and Ezra’s place isn’t fit to add a new mother and baby. Not that it’s unkempt, it’s just small. Enough for two men to coexist with unreliable schedules.

Kevin’s house would actually be the perfect place. He has a large home on the outskirts of town with multiple bedrooms. The home was his parents’ before they passed, and it’s massive. My condo would work as well. It’s a three bedroom, but I have my office which could be converted to an additional room.

By the time I pull into the driveway of my parents’ home, I realize I’ve planned out living arrangements, completely bypassing the knowledge that Miriam is going to absolutely say no.

My mother, Amelia Leigh, is already standing on the front stoop, the door open wide and leaning against the rail. She lifts a hand when she sees me looking, so I don’t waste any time gathering courage.

Walking up to her, I kiss both of her cheeks after she sets her hands on my arms. “Hi. Did you let him know I was coming?”

“I did. Harold cancelled his conference call since you said it was urgent. Would you like some tea or prefer something harder?”

Huffing out a laugh, I hold up my hand to guide her inside first. “Definitely something harder today. If you don’t mind, I’ll probably sleep here for the night as well. I suspect this will take a while.”

She studies me curiously, then without looking away, turns her head slightly. “ Harold! Our son is here!” Moving more cautiously, she heads to the liquor cabinet. “I think I’ll pour from the top shelf and join you both. Is it terribly bad, Richard?”

“Not in the way you’re probably thinking. But impactful, if that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t, but we’ll sort it. Harold! ” she yells again, higher pitched than before, bordering on an almost screech.

She sets three heavy tumblers on the granite countertop, the clink reverberating heavily in the kitchen. “On the rocks or straight up?”

“Straight, please.” Nodding once, she pours more than a couple of fingers, then leaves the cork out. Apparently, we’re going to be refilling.

Pushing my glass to me, she picks up hers, and just before she takes a sip, she screeches, “ HAR ? — ”

“Christ, woman, I heard you the first time.” My father strides into the kitchen, eyes the good bottle sitting in solitude between my mother and me, then turns to face me head on. With a straight face, he asks, “Is it criminal? I have a few friends who would be willing to drop everything for us, but I need to know how much time we have. How much trouble are you in?”

I’m not sure why, but his response to the worst-case scenario alleviates every ounce of anxiety I was feeling, and I burst out laughing. Dropping my head in my hands as soon as my ass hits the stool, I lose complete control of my senses. The fact this man immediately thought I needed a defense attorney is just the perfect way to end my day.

“Harold, take your drink and make the call,” my mother hisses.

I hold my hand up, choking out, “ Stop . Please. Shit, I don’t need an attorney. At least not that kind. I’m not in trouble.”

My father sits down and takes the glass from my mother, who sits next to him. He eyes me with trepidation. “Then what the hell is so urgent? Are you in trouble of a different sort?”

“Yes and no. Please, let me explain everything before you start asking questions, but I also am going to divulge some private parts of my life I’ve never told you about. Would you both understand that while you may not approve, it’s something I enjoy and have taken every action to protect myself and practice properly?”

“Of course, Richard,” my mother rushes to say. I look at my father, who gets an elbow before he’s agreeing as well.

Taking a deep breath, I lay it all out. “You know I have a good friendship with Kevin Cooper?—”

“The captain. Wonderful man.” My father shushes my mother, who looks sheepish after interrupting me.

“Yes, that Kevin. We have two other friends as well, neither of whom you’ve met, but they’re both army veterans. One of them, Tatum Cadelle, is an EMT, and the other, Ezra Hall, works in search and rescues, as well as a hiking guide. The four of us have high-stress jobs and found a way to alleviate it and relax in an unusual way.”

This is harder than I thought it’d be, and after chewing on my cheek, trying to word the next part as carefully as possible, my mother bursts at the seams. “Just get on with it!”

“We take women to my cabin and have sex with them a few times a year.”

Both of my parents blink in shock, but stay silent, so I push forward.

“I know that sounds crass, but it works for us. Before you ask, no, we aren’t sexually together. It’s more of just fulfilling needs in a safe environment without the strain of relationships. It’s really all quite clinical, or rather, it was .”

Clearing his throat, my father uncomfortably says, “We aren’t here to judge. As long as you’re keeping it private so it would never get out and affect your career, who are we to look down? Is that it? That’s the big secret?”

“I wish,” I mutter. “A few months ago, twelve weeks and two days to be exact, we had made arrangements to bring a woman to my cabin, but it fell through. Kevin ended up meeting a younger woman who agreed to accompany him to our weekend away.” My mother places a hand against her chest as she realizes that we only bring one woman at a time, but stays tight lipped. “Miriam is her name. Long story short, we are now in a situation where she’s three months pregnant and there’s a very good chance I’m the father.”

If someone were to drop a pin in this silence, I truly believe both of my parents would explode out of their skin. The longer it goes on, the more my anxiety builds until I can’t hold back.

“I need you to say something.”

“Is—” Mother clears the frog in her throat and tries again. “Is she from a good family, Richard?”

Shrugging, I hadn’t even thought about who her family is. “I know what you mean by good , so to answer you, no. But her family isn’t bad. From what I understand, she’s the eldest of quite a few brothers, and I believe her mother is no longer involved in her life.”

“Richard,” she groans, holding her head with one hand. “How old is she? You said young.”

Clenching my jaw, I mutter, “Twenty-four.”

“ Twenty-four? ” She shoots to her feet, but my father sets a hand on her shoulder and eases her back into her seat. “Twenty-four and pregnant. Oh God, what will people say?”

“Amelia, you’re going to expire if you keep going on like that. This isn’t the end of the world. Now, Richard. You said there’s a very good chance you’re the father. I’m assuming since there were four of you there, we’re looking at a twenty-five percent chance. When are you getting a paternity test?”

I throw back the rest of my drink and my mother quickly refills it. “I went to her appointment today. She brought it up and I believe we can do one pretty early, but there’s nothing arranged yet. I left before it was decided and told them we could discuss at a later date.”

“Why?” my mother cries out. “We need to know now! What does she do for work? Lord, she’s so young. Oh Harold, what if she’s trying to baby snatch him?”

Laughing again, this time without as much humor, I correct her. “It’s called baby trapping , mother. And I guarantee you, that’s not what she’s trying to do.”

“So you think. Son, con-artists take on all sorts of faces, young or old, male or female, it doesn’t matter. I’d like you to get me her information so I can run a background check?—”

Cutting him off, I shut this shit down. “I’m not an imbecile, and I believe I’m a fairly good judge in character.”

“Not when it comes to women,” my mother murmurs under her breath as she drinks again. Narrowing my eyes at her, I continue.

“If anything, she’s looking to distance herself as far as possible from me. I haven’t been the kindest, but I’m going to work on rectifying that in the near future. Mainly, the reason I came here today was to let you both know my current situation, and I need advice on what I should do to ensure this child is properly taken care of in the future.”

“If it’s yours,” my father adds, studying me more closely now.

Shaking my head no, I bite out, “No. It doesn’t matter either way. Even if I’m not the father biologically, I’m still responsible. We , the guys and I, got her into this predicament. And before either of you start with more questions, Miriam is an incredibly hard worker. Honestly, I think she puts in more hours a week than I do. She’s also going to school in the evenings to eventually become a nurse.”

My mother chews on her lip, then tops off all of our glasses. The whiskey we’re drinking is already hitting me hard and there’s a wonderful numb feeling slithering up my extremities.

“For now, we’ll trust your judgement. I need a bit to think things over, but later tonight or tomorrow morning, we’ll sit down and get a clear idea of what type of assistance you’re looking to provide. For now, why don’t we sit with this?” I appreciate my father’s ability to focus on the business side of things, so I nod in agreement.

“Will you bring her by?” my mother asks, her voice a touch hopeful.

Her question has my shoulders falling. “In truth, I’m not sure that will happen anytime soon, but I will broach the topic with her when we speak again. I’m not exactly in her good graces at the moment.”

Standing when she gasps in shock, unable to believe that I can do anything wrong, I excuse myself with my full glass and head upstairs to my old bedroom. By the time I walk inside, I’ve polished it off and I fall onto the bed and lay there unmoving until I fall asleep.

I dream of dark hair and soft curves providing me a comfortable place to lay my head.