Delivering Her Secret: A Secret Baby Romance

by Kira Blakely

  “Oh, yeah? Then why do you stick around, babe?”

  The woman leaned in, grabbed the front of his jeans, where he might, just might, have a cock. The jury was out on that one.

  “Because I want you,” she whispered. “No strings attached. But that doesn’t mean we have to flaunt it. You know what trouble it would cause if we did.”

  “Fuck, you’re worried about being discovered but you’ll whack me off in a parking lot?”

  She released him, quick as a flash, and stepped back. “That’s it for tonight, Greggie. Another time, maybe.”

  “Come on, babe, there’s no one around. It’s an empty—” He swept his arm wide and shifted his gaze to the dust-coated cars in the parking lot, the trees, and me, at last.

  “Hey,” I said, in a deep growl. “I’ve been looking for you.” It wasn’t true, but it’d scare the pants off him. If Charlie wouldn’t report him to the cops, I’d make it my mission to teach this fuckhead a lesson.

  He stumbled backward and let out a girlish squeal. Priceless reaction, baby.

  The woman didn’t turn but immediately trotted off, her heels grinding into the dirt. She disappeared around the corner, and a car started a couple seconds later.

  “What’s the matter, Greggie?” I asked and strode across the parking lot, the muscles of my forearms cording.

  “What do you want?” He backpedaled and hit the side of a car. The alarm wailed and the lights flashed, a perfect backdrop for a smackdown.

  Life-giver not taker. What would Charlie want?

  Fuck it, I’d scare him, that was all.

  “I thought you liked cornering people. Here’s your chance, big man,” I said, over the alarm, and stopped in front of him. I tucked my arms behind my back and held them there, leaned in and stuck my face out. “Here you go, buddy. You get one free shot. Take it. Take your shot, boy, because afterward it’s my turn.”

  “Look, man, I don’t want any trouble.”

  Rage screeched through me. “You should have thought of that before you touched Charlie,” I yelled, my entire face contorting, skin hot. “Hit me, motherfucker. Hit me so I can hit you back.”

  Self-defense. Malpractice. Don’t do it.

  Nothing could cool me. It was the same lack of control that’d broken me months ago.

  “Hit me!”

  Greg trembled and actually balled up a fist, his weak chin bobbing up and down, up and down.

  “Do it!”

  “No,” he howled, then spun on his heel and ran for it, around the side of the car, alarm still screaming blue fucking murder.

  The door to the bar slapped open again and another dude appeared, frowned at me and shut off the car alarm. “You need something, man?” He scratched under his beard. “There a reason you’re staring at my car?”

  I gave a raw chuckle, then walked toward him. “Nah, man, just taking a walk.”

  The anger seeped out of me, at last. A drink. I had to get a drink and work through this, because the truth struck me so fucking hard it shattered me.

  I would do anything for her. Even risk my own life. Risk my future.

  Lose control in the worst way.

  I had to rein it in before I destroyed myself.

  Chapter 23

  Charlie

  “Let’s go, Charlie,” Pammy called from the front door. “You were the one who suggested we go for brunch. Why are you dragging your feet?”

  I stared at the Plan B, which I’d secreted at the bottom of my underwear drawer, and shook my head. I hadn’t thought my aunt would actually take me up on the offer. When I’d mentioned it last night, it’d been a way out of seeing Houston again.

  I still wasn’t ready to spill.

  The brunch was good, though. It was my opportunity to talk about all of this with Pammy. To work it out so I’d be ready when the time came.

  And it would come. Soon.

  “Coming,” I yelled and slapped the drawer shut.

  I checked my reflection in the mirror on the inside of my closet door, adjusted my panties, and patted down the front of my dress. All good, apart from the fact that my face looked a little fatter than it’d been last week.

  It was only a matter of time before I started showing properly, and then I’d have to tell everyone, or rather, everyone would know, regardless.

  Thank god I didn’t have to deal with going to work for a while longer.

  I tucked my hair behind my ears, nodded once at my reflection—a little show of courage—then marched out of my bedroom door and down the hallway.

  My aunt waited for me in the entryway, tapping on the screen of her phone. She looked up at me. “What’s with you? You look like you’re walking the plank.”

  I shrugged. “Just hungry, I guess.”

  “Yeah, because hunger makes you look like you’re walking to your own execution. Right this way, darling. We’ll find you a chopping block.”

  “See, now, that only reminds me of that show Chopped, and now I’m even hungrier,” I said, which was true. I’d had one bout of morning sickness but managed not to throw up by lying on my bed for a full hour, and now I could eat a damn horse.

  “Chopped? The one where they use marshmallows and corn dogs as ingredients? Ew.”

  My mouth watered, regardless. Why did marshmallows and corn dogs sound so darn appetizing right now?

  “I think,” Pammy said, “we can find a place that serves better food than that. I’m thinking eggs and bacon and croissants.”

  “Stop.” I pressed my palms together and pointed at her. “I’m about to eat you.”

  “All right, gorgeous. To the Batmobile.”

  We trudged out and down the side path to the garage. She opened it up, and I admired her beat up VW Beetle again. I loved that she was loyal to this car. Then again, loyalty was a big issue for my aunt.

  She’d trusted my mother with her friendship, and it’d paid off in dividends for both parties. Pammy had a heart of gold, whether it came to cars or animals or, well, me. That was what I counted on for our chat.

  We clambered into the car, slipped on our seatbelts, and Pammy stroked the dash. “All right, babe, show me what you got.” She started the engine and it puttered. “Come on, girl. You can do it.” Another turn of the keys and it purr-crank-growled to life. “Atta girl!”

  I laughed for the fiftieth time at the dialogue between my aunt and her car. It sobered me.

  I’d been in this car with her so many times over the past few months, almost a year, now, and everything was about to change in the most unbelievable way imaginable.

  I pressed my hand to my belly, a quick touch, then let it fall.

  Every night, after Pammy had dropped off—she snored, so I could always tell—I’d tell made-up stories to Houston’s unborn child. I’d whisper little secrets about how wonderful his father was.

  His. I don’t even know the sex yet. But I was sure it was him. I still hadn’t gone to the doctor, and it weighed heavily on my mind. I needed this checkup.

  My basic knowledge about this—though it was probably more than the regular person, since I’d so desperately wanted to be a nurse and read up everything I could on the topic—wasn’t enough.

  I’d already bought over-the-counter pre-natal meds, though my heart had beat a mile a minute during that particular shopping experience.

  This baby, this boy, I was sure of it, deserved the best. He deserved a happy family, and it made my heart hurt that I might not have the opportunity to give it to him.

  Pammy hummed under her breath beside me as we drove. Thankfully, she didn’t notice that I’d welled up.

  I turned my head and surreptitiously dabbed beneath my eyes.

  This was a problem of my own making. I will not cry about it! I will not! I made this bed, and I’ll lie in it.

  The town’s homes flicked by and soon became the cutesy stores I loved. Brick-faced buildings with trees out front, some of them with roots that cracked the sidewalk, became a tableau outside the window.
>
  I inhaled and exhaled, focused on nothing but this moment.

  “Here we are,” Pammy announced and pulled into the parking lot outside a diner.

  It was housed in another brick building but had floor-to-ceiling windows and was set against the backdrop of trees and a play area on one side. Two kids laughed and played outside. One of them was Chadley, with his arm free and healed.

  The signage was all in cursive—decorative and set against a cream backdrop. The Springs.

  “We haven’t been here before,” I said.

  “You’re quite right, we haven’t,” Pammy replied. “This place is where my boss hangs out. Not today, thank god. She’s in LA getting work done on her nose for the twentieth time. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Today seems like the perfect day to eat here, don’t you think?” Pammy winked at me, then clunked open her door and got out.

  What the heck did she mean by that? My stomach grumbled, and I shoved the thought aside—Pammy’s open door had let in a waft of fantastic odors, including the vanilla of cakes and the rich, salty scent of frying bacon.

  I let myself out of the car too, and waved at Chadley, who waved right back but continued playing with his little buddy.

  “This way,” Pammy said and led me inside the building.

  The smells only intensified, and my belly actually ached for the food. Inside, the tables were made of wrought iron with glass tops, and there were matching chairs with cushions for comfort. Worn wooden boards gave the room an antique vibe, and glass globes hung from the ceiling casting a pale glow that couldn’t compete with sunlight streaming through the windows.

  The place wasn’t exactly empty, but Pammy led me to the side of the room, and we managed a little privacy. A waiter detached from the glass counter at the front—which showed off delicious pastries and donuts—and strolled over.

  “Good morning. My name is Kevin, and I’ll be your server today,” he said and offered us both smiles that didn’t quite reach his hazel eyes. He was clean-shaven and neat, dressed in a white tee and black jeans. Professional. “Welcome to The Springs. May I fetch you ladies something to drink?”

  “A coffee for me,” Pammy said. “No, a cappuccino. No, a coffee. A latte!”

  The waiter took it in stride, his arms behind his back. He bowed to me next. “I’ll take a milkshake. Chocolate, if you have it.”

  “We do,” he said, then flourished two menus and handed them to us. “Our brunch selection. I’ll return shortly with your drinks.” He did another half-bow then hurried off toward the counter at the front.

  Chatter and the clink of knives and forks on plates filled the gap in our conversation.

  Pammy settled herself, took off her sling bag, and placed it on the floor beside her. “Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”

  “It’s great, so far.”

  “Good,” Pammy said and rapped her knuckles on the glass tabletop. The vase of fresh flowers in the center—a miniature arrangement—wobbled. “Listen, I was going to wait until after we’d eaten to talk about this because I don’t want to ruin your appetite or this experience, but I can’t keep it anymore. I know.”

  My pulse went insane. I gulped. “Huh?” I managed. “Know?” It was one thing to plan to tell my aunt, it was another to have her spring it on me. Would she hate me for keeping this secret?

  “Charlie, don’t be afraid, honey,” she said and took my limp hand in her strong one. “I found the pregnancy test in the trash the other day. I know. I know you’re pregnant. It’s his, isn’t it?”

  I shifted and swallowed. “Yes. It’s his.”

  “Good, he’s handsome. And he looks like a good person.”

  “I haven’t told him yet.” Sweat trickled down my spine. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I was afraid. Pammy, I’m still terrified, and I’m trying to get over it and do the right thing but every time I come close he says something that melts my heart and I’m so afraid and I know I’m going to lose him and—”

  Pammy held up her free hand and patted the air. “Easy, babe, easy. It’s going to be all right.”

  “Is it?” I asked. “I don’t know that it will be. Things are so friggin’ complicated right now. What with Henrietta and—” I hadn’t told my aunt about Greg, because she’d be just as angry as Houston had been, if not more so.

  My aunt wasn’t a natural red, but she had enough fire in her to make up for it. She’d hunt the man down and probably dismember him. One member, specifically.

  “Whatever happens will happen, but right now, you’ve got a baby to focus on. I’m going to be here for you, every step of the way, girl. I’ll help you. You and the baby can stay with me until you’ve sorted out a little apartment for yourselves. And I’ll help you tell him about it.”

  “You will?”

  “Not physically, but I’ll help you plan how to do it and what to say,” Pammy replied.

  The tears came thick and fast. That was exactly what I needed. What I’d hoped for. I let go of my aunt’s hands and pressed my palms to my eyes. “God, I’m so ashamed of myself.”

  “You shouldn’t be. These type of accidents happen. They do. It doesn’t make you a bad person, Charlie. Darling, it makes you human. Look, you’re emotionally distraught. You’ve been keeping this bottled up for too long, and I know exactly why. You never want to ruin anything. You never want to put pressure on anyone else, because you’d rather shoulder it all yourself, and that’s not fair on you.”

  I sniveled like a kid and grabbed for the napkin, whipped it free of its silver ring holder, then wiped my cheeks. God, my mascara had run. I streaked the napkin black with the stuff.

  “Here’s what we should do. You and me, we’ll enjoy our day together today. I’ve got the whole day off. We’ll spend it planning how you’ll tell the daddy dearest, make sure we cross all the i’s and dot the t’s so that you’re ready for it. Then tomorrow, you can tell him the truth. And if he’s not supportive, know that I’ll be here for you, all the way.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Pammy, thank you.”

  “What’s family for?” She patted my arm. “Now, where’s that damn waiter with my coffee?”

  I snorted a laugh through the tears.

  At last, I didn’t feel like my world was about to crumble around my ears.

  Maybe, everything would be all right, after all.

  Chapter 24

  Houston

  I propped up my feet on the ottoman in the upstairs living room of my mother’s home, my laptop open, balanced on my thighs. Clarissa hummed in the room next door, decorating, as she was wont to do. I’d already forgiven her for calling me back.

  I couldn’t stay mad with my mother, and this mansion at least gave me a sense of “home,” even though it wasn’t truly mine and never had been.

  My phone lay on the sofa beside me, silent, whereas the TV on the wall blared that canned laughter I despised.

  Two days since I’d last kissed her goodbye on her aunt’s doorstep. She’d messaged me this morning.

  Can we meet for lunch today?

  I’d agreed to pick her up, two hours from now, but this didn’t feel right. The issue with Plan B and our little accident had freaked her out, and I got that, but I wasn’t a guy who waited around for anyone or anything.

  This was an uncomfortable first for me.

  I took what I wanted, when I wanted, and now, I couldn’t do that.

  “Honey,” my mother said, from the doorway.

  I shifted my gaze from the phone to her smile. “Yeah?”

  “What are you up to? Looking for more work?”

  “Yeah.” I’d already opened a page of listings, but none of them looked promising to me. And some of them were in Chicago. No way they’d allow me anywhere near Northeastern again, though there was a job opening in that same hospital.

  It was a bleak outlook, but it didn’t matter.

  Every othe
r second, my focus shifted to the phone and the time. Fuck, this is ridiculous. What am I, a hormonal teenager?

  “Any luck?”

  “No.”

  “Are you still angry, Houston? You’re giving me one-word answers.” Clarissa swept into the room, wearing a cashmere sweater and a pair of jeans. She took a seat on the armchair across from my spot and crossed her ankles. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m not angry,” I replied. Not anymore.

  “But you’re not yourself. Do you need to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  “Houston.”

  “No, Mom, I’m fine. I’m looking for a job, that’s all. It takes my focus.”

  “Oh, all right then,” she said and looked down at her lap. She picked lint off her jeans, though there probably wasn’t anything there, and shifted. “I’ve been thinking, Huey, dear, would it be so bad for you to stay in Summit Springs?”

  I gave her a deadpan stare.

  “It wouldn’t be so terrible.”

  “I don’t like this town. I don’t like the people.” Except for one or two. One in particular.

  “What about Charlie?” Mom asked and stole the fucking thought out of my brain.

  “What about her?”

  “Well, it seems to me like you enjoy her company, at least,” she replied. “You could stay for her.”

  “Mom.”

  “I know, you’re probably not serious with her, but think about it. She’s a lovely girl, and she’s beautiful, too. In fact, I was thinking of inviting her over for dinner again.”

  “Because the last time went so well,” I said and opened a new tab on my browser. I typed in Facebook’s address and hit enter for the fuck of it.

  “Huey, I’m not saying you should marry the woman, just that you’d probably enjoy spending a little more time with her.”

  She wasn’t wrong, but my mom’s interference had cost me more than once. Clarissa was desperate for me settle down and stick around, particularly now that her age had caught up with her.

  The last illness might’ve been bullshit—a tall tale she’d used to get me back to Summit Springs for a matchmaking endeavor—but the times before that had been real. She’d been sick. Her body was tired, and it bothered the fuck out of me.