“Don’t you want to try?” Her voice hitches with emotion, and I hate that she’s hurting. “Try to be a family?”
“I’d love to be a family,” I say slowly, going over the words in my head. There’s no easy way to tell her, just like there’s no easy way to tell Chloe I got my ex pregnant. “That night in June,” I start, knowing whatever I say is going to come out construed. “It was just a hookup, and we both knew that. I have a girlfriend.”
“Oh. Is it…is it serious? Serious enough to not even try with me?”
“Yes. We’re really happy together.” For now. “I don’t want to upset you,” I say, words coming out strangled. “I mean it when I say I will be there for the child if…” I trail off, shaking my head. If it’s mine. Stacey is already upset, and she can fly off the handle at the drop of a hat. “Moving in together isn’t a good idea.”
“I disagree,” she counters. “It’s good for kids to have both parents.”
“Only if those parents get along.” I take in a deep breath and close my eyes. “I had a friend in middle school whose parents hated each other. It was awful going over to his house. His dad was pissed at his mom for whatever reason and took it out on anyone around. When they finally got divorced, it was so much better going over, and he’ll tell you he was happier to not be around the fighting.”
“We never fought that much before.”
“We never lived together before.” I look out at the wooded front yard. “We tried, Stacey, and it didn’t work. We’ll figure something out, though, I promise.”
“I’m scared to do this alone,” she confesses.
“You won’t be alone,” I assure her. “When I’m back in Chicago, we can get dinner or something. I’ll give you the information for the paternity test—and I’m paying for it, of course.”
“Sure. I really think you should consider what I said, though, even if it’s just for the first few months. They’re the hardest, you know. It’s only fair we’re both there.”
She’s right, and fuck, I hate this. “I know. I’ll, uh, text you sometime this week.”
“Okay. Thanks, Sam. I always feel better after talking to you.”
“Take care,” I say and end the call. I stay on the porch for a few moments, collecting myself before going back inside. I get myself coffee and stand by the back doors as I drink it, staring out at the lake and trying not to think of anything at all, giving myself a small mental reprieve before going upstairs.
Chloe opens her eyes when I step into the room, hardwood floor creaking beneath my feet.
“How are you feeling?” I ask and pick up the thermometer.
“Tired,” she says.
“Go to sleep,” I urge again. “It’s the best thing for you.”
She nods and takes a drink of water. “I know.”
I hold the thermometer to her forehead to check her temperature before leaving.
“One-hundred and two point seven. Still high but it’s going down. Do you feel up to eating anything? I can make you soup.”
“Not now. I just want to sleep, but thanks.”
“I’ll bring something back with me. I love you, Chloe.”
“Love you too,” she grumbles. “Tell everyone hi for me.”
“I will.” I kiss her once more and go back downstairs. I grab my keys, wallet, and jacket and go outside. I need to call Mom back and tell her I’m on my way over for breakfast, but I don’t want to lie to anyone else. I get in my car and call Jacob instead.
“Hey,” he answers.
“Are you working?” I ask.
“I just left a farm call. Why?”
“Want to get something to drink?”
“Drink?” Jacob echoes. “It’s not even ten AM. The only place that’s open this early is The Oasis and the regulars there have been there all night. But more importantly, what the hell is going on?”
My eyes fall shut and I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Stacey,” I start, not wanting to say the words. “She’s pregnant.”
“Fuck,” Jacob exclaims. “And it’s yours?”
“She says it is.”
“You lied about breaking up with her then, didn’t you?”
“We did break up but hooked up once in June, which makes her four months along. She said she recently found out and told me only a week or so ago.”
“Meet me at my house. I’m headed that way now and we’ll be away from anyone eavesdropping.”
“Okay. I’m coming from Chloe’s dad’s place.”
“Does Chloe know?”
“No. I haven’t told her yet.”
“Shit,” he repeats. “I have booze. I think you need some.”
“I do,” I sigh. “Thanks, man.”
“Of course. You’re my brother. See ya soon,” he says and ends the call. I pull my seatbelt on and back out of the driveway, so tense I make it halfway to Jacob’s house before realizing I didn’t turn on any music.
Jacob’s century-old brick house sits right behind the veterinary clinic, which he owns. There are a few cars in the clinic’s parking lot, and Jacob’s truck is in front of his house. Horses in the paddock in between the house and the clinic nicker to me, coming over to the fence and hoping for attention or treats.
“Hey, guys,” I say. They’re not Jacob’s horses, but belong to clients. “Sorry, I don’t have anything for you.” The two horses look at me hopefully, and then go back to grazing when they realize I’m not coming over with carrots.
Jacob’s rescue dogs surround me as soon as I step into the house. There are two more dogs in here than the last time I was over, which wasn’t that long ago. He was always bringing home stray animals to “foster” and we ended up keeping most of them. The same thing happens now, but there’s no one to tell him five dogs is too many, like our mother did.
“Hey,” Jacob says, coming out of the kitchen with two beers in his hand. “I figured you’d need this.”
“Thanks.” We sit in the living room, and two dogs bombard me, jumping up on the couch. I take a drink and set my beer on the center of the coffee table, away from the dogs’ wagging tails.
“The last time I drank this early, I was in college,” Jacob says, patting a large white dog who only has one eye.
“Same for me. Pre-med, though, not med school.”
“That’s probably for the best.”
“Hah. I was perpetually sleep-deprived for all of med school and then residency. If I drank, I was asleep ten minutes later.”
“I still feel that way most days. Fuck, we’re getting old.”
Jacob is only a few years younger than me, and though his patients usually have four legs and fur, we’re both doctors and able to relate to each other on that. Jacob was born knowing he wanted to be a vet, and I knew I wanted to go into the medical field with certainty when I was in high school. After seeing two of her brothers go through hell in med school, Rory made a smart decision to be a nurse, still getting to work closely with patients but not having to kill herself with years and years of schooling.
Mason’s the only one of us who didn’t go into medicine, and it’s more fun than it should be to heckle him for it.
“I’m older than you,” I sigh and pick up a little dog named Pepper who’s too old and fat to jump on the couch. Pepper is a newer resident here as well, and Jacob acquired him a few months ago when Pepper’s owner died.
“And soon to be a dad.” Jacob leans back and slowly shakes his head. “You’re sure it’s yours?”
“No,” I say honestly. “I’m not. We did sleep together so it’s possible.”
“How long have you known?”
“Not long,” I reply. “She only found out a few weeks ago.”
“But she’s already four months along?”
I nod. “It’s not uncommon for women who aren’t expecting to get pregnant to not know right away. Not everyone has symptoms but…”
“But what?”
“She told me she’s been sick from the start.” Pepper curls
up in my lap, tail still wagging.
“Yeah,” I confess. “I don’t fucking know how to go about this. I don’t want to be an asshole. I don’t want to be that guy, ya know? There are other reasons to feel pregnancy symptoms and they can be easily written off.”
“I get it,” Jacob says. “But I also know you’re looking for an out, and I don’t blame you. If she’s been sick from the start but only found out a few weeks ago, then maybe it’s not yours. Unless you fucked her another time after your 'one-time' hookup.”
“No, we both knew that night in June was a mistake. We talked about shit that next morning too…how we don’t work as a couple and the one-night stand thing was growing old. And I hadn’t seen her since until she showed up telling me she was pregnant with my baby.”
“And Chloe has no idea.”
“Not yet. I need to tell her, I know. Fuck,” I grumble again and take another swig of beer. “I wanted to have one more weekend with her before dropping the bomb…and what if it’s not mine? Why tell her and upset her? And if it is, not telling her still sounds like the better option.”
“And what? You’ll have a secret family on the side like a serial killer?”
“Doesn’t sound so bad.”
“I thought you were the smart brother.” He rolls his eyes. “Look, I wouldn’t want to tell her either. Hell, I’m dreading you telling Mom and I’m not the one who knocked up a gold digger. Sorry,” he adds, but he’s not sorry at all. “I didn’t want to jump on Rory’s bandwagon of hating on Stacey, but we all think she used you for money.”
“Because that’s all that’s appealing about me?” I shoot back.
“You said it, not me.” He looks at me empathetically. “We never met her, and we know that was for a good reason. And I never wanted to give you shit over her because I didn’t think it was worth it.”
“She wants to move in with me,” I tell my brother. “She called this morning and Chloe saw. She knows Stacey’s my ex. Stacey thinks she should move in with me so we can raise the baby together.”
“With you?” Jacob asks, eyes wide with shock.
“So we can raise the baby together. I get it…if the kid is mine, I want to do my part. I want to be there. I want to help. But not with Stacey in bed next to me. And I know people do this all the time. They co-parent and raise kids separately and it works out in the end. The kids turn out all right. But this…what the fuck do I do? She told me she won’t get maternity leave, which is fucked up in another sense, but what do I do? I don’t want to be with Stacey.”
“I don’t know,” he says, and while it’s not helpful, I’m glad he’s honest. “It’s hard to say what’s right here. You have a sense of responsibility for that child, and you two are going to have to decide what you want to do. Put the kid in daycare so you can both work, hire an at-home nanny either full-time or part-time to help provide childcare while you both work, have Stacey stay home for the next few years, or move back home and live with Mom because you know she’ll eat up any chance she’ll get to be a full-time grandma.”
“She would.”
“How do you think Chloe’s gonna react?”
“She’s not going to be excited, I’m sure about that. If she had a kid, it wouldn’t change how I feel about her,” I say, remembering Archer’s words.
“That’s a good point. What if she was living with her baby’s father for the convenience of things, not because she was romantically involved with him.”
I take a few seconds to really think about it. Chloe famously dated Charles Baldwin, and if she came back to Silver Ridge with a baby in tow, she still would have taken my breath away. I still would have fallen for her all over again, still done anything to make her mine. It wouldn’t matter. I love Chloe, and for some reason, seeing her as the good mother I know she will be would only strengthen how I feel about her.
But if she told me she was still living with the guy she used to sleep with, the guy who has such a close, bonded tie to her…I might wonder if she still has feelings for him, and putting that kind of doubt on a brand-new relationship sets us up to fail, I know.
“It would be hard,” I say honestly. “Because I’d wonder if she’d rather be with him.”
Jacob nods. “Yeah. I’d wonder the same too.”
“If it’s my kid, though…I…I have to put him or her first. I won’t be one of those dads who’s only there when it’s convenient.”
“You won’t be. We were raised better than that. Though if I’m being honest, I thought Mason would be the one coming home telling us about some one-night stand he knocked up, not you.”
“I did too.”
“Look…it’s not ideal and not how you imagined things would happen. It’s gonna work out. I know that sounds like bullshit for me to say it like it’s easy, but you’re not alone in this either. You got us, and if Stacey legitimately needs a place to stay for a few months after the baby is born, you know Mom will clear out a room the same day you tell her. That baby is a Harris, regardless who the mother is.”
“You’re right.” Pepper rolls over, sliding off my lap and onto the couch next to me and sticks his paws in the air so I can rub his belly.
“When can you do a paternity test?”
“Now,” I tell him. “And I brought it up a few times to Stacey and she dances around it.”
Jacob arches an eyebrow. “Don’t you find that suspicious?”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling relief for finally admitting it out loud. “Which is kind of why I want to wait to tell Chloe. I know,” I sigh. “You don’t have to say it. If the DNA test comes back and it is my kid, she’ll be upset I kept it from her. I don’t know the fucking protocol on this.” I shake my head.
“I don’t think anyone does. You gotta tell Chloe. Keeping this from her isn’t much different than leading her on when you don’t want to commit.”
“You’re right.” I pinch the bridge of my nose again, feeling a headache coming on. It’s from stress, I know. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Tell her what you told me. Stacey recently came to you with the news, you plan to have a paternity test done to be sure, and you want to be with her, not Stacey.”
“Sounds easy when you say it like that.”
“Chloe is pretty level-headed and laid back,” Jacob goes on. “I think she’ll take it better than you expect. Tell her when you get back. If she needs space, she can stay here while you go back to Chicago for work. And if not, you two can go back like you planned and work it out from there. It’s not gonna be easy, man, but if you two can pine after each other for years and years, not act on it, and still have feelings that strong, I think you’ll be able to work shit out.”
“Fuck, I hope you’re right.”
“I usually am. And don’t worry, I won’t say anything to anyone yet.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s not every day I get to offer you advice, albeit on something I know nothing about.”
“It helps to tell someone. Keeping this bottled up was kind of killing me. I felt like I was lying every time I was around Chloe.”
“Let me know what she says.”
“I will.”
17
Chloe
I wrap my arms around myself, shivering as I slowly make my way out of the bedroom and into the bathroom to pee. My entire body hurts and shivering only makes it worse. My head pounds worse than before, and the bright light shining through the windows makes me feel like I’m going to throw up.
All I want to do is sleep, but I’m in so much pain I can’t fall asleep. Teeth chattering, I debate sitting in a hot shower. It sounds wonderful and will hopefully soothe my body aches. But it also seems like a lot of effort, and just this little walk from the bedroom to the bathroom is wearing me out.
I press my hand to my forehead, trying to get the throbbing to stop, and sit on the toilet a few minutes after I’m done, not sure if I can move without throwing up. I don’t get migraines often, but the times I have, I’ve ha
d to go to the hospital for medication to make them go away. Pair a migraine with how shitty I feel now and I’m pretty fucking miserable.
Keeping my eyes shut, I feel my way back to the bedroom, groaning when I finally get back in bed. I bury myself under the covers, trying to find a way to get comfortable. My calves are cramping and my back hurts. I roll over, curling my legs up to my chest. It’s comfortable for only a minute before new aches start up.
Only a few minutes later, my phone rings. I sit up and then immediately feel like I’m going to throw up. Clamping my hand over my mouth, I stay there, frozen, until the wave of nausea passes. I missed the call by that time, and slit my eyes open to see it was Sam. I call him back, putting the phone on speaker so I can rest it on the pillow next to me.
“Hey, babe,” he says when I grumble a hello. “Still feeling crummy?”
“You could say that.” I cough, and the movement makes my aching body hurt even more.
“I have food for you, and as soon as my mom heard you weren’t feeling well, she made you soup.”
“That was nice of her.” Just talking is making me feel like I’m going to throw up again. Migraines are so stupid. Gritting my teeth, I slowly inhale and push myself up so I can get a drink of water.
“If you’re feeling up to it, I’d like to go down by the lake with you again,” Sam says, words coming out rather quickly. “Or walk in the woods.”
“Me too,” I grumble. “Are you almost here?”
“Yeah. I’m pulling onto the street now and will probably lose service. I’ll see you soon.”
“Hmm,” I say, unable to open my mouth to form actual words. I definitely will throw up this time if I do. The call ends and I lie in bed, half convinced I’m dying and half thinking I’m not actually that sick, until I hear Sam come in through the front door.
“You upstairs?” he calls.
“Yeah,” I say feebly and try to get up. I make it so far as getting my feet on the floor right when Sam comes in, and it’s a good thing he got there when he did. My vision blurs and my ears start to ring. Sam catches me right as I lose my balance.
Desperate Times (Silver Ridge Series Book 2) Page 16