Stirred (Twisted Fox Book 1)

by Charity Ferrell

  “Are you alive in there?”

  “Yes!” I shriek, fighting to control my breathing.

  “What are you doing? You’ve been in there for over an hour!”

  “I’m taking a shower.” I dig my nails into the vanity. Go the fuck away!

  “I haven’t heard the shower running.”

  “I mean, I’m taking a bath.”

  “All right,” she says, making it known that she doesn’t believe me. “Have fun, taking your fake bath.”

  I flip off the door in frustration.

  How will I explain this?

  33

  Cohen

  “You’ve got to be shitting me,” I mutter when Heather takes a seat at the end of the bar, and I stalk to her. “I told you not to come here again.”

  “I’m a paying customer,” Heather fires back with a smirk.

  I dip my head down and lower my voice. “Go be a paying customer somewhere else.”

  She snarls, “What if I’m here to deliver good news?”

  “I don’t care.”

  The only good news she can deliver to me is that she’s leaving town again and never coming back.

  She settles her elbow on the bar. “Did Jamie tell you she’s having a baby?”

  My heart nearly stops. “Excuse me?”

  A hint of a smile plays at her lips. She knows she’s caught me off guard, and she’s loving it. “Did my sister tell you she’s knocked up?”

  I grind my teeth, refusing to answer.

  She snorts. “She didn’t.”

  “Leave.”

  Heather flips her finger back and forth. “The question is, is she having your baby or another guy’s baby?”

  “Don’t come in here, trying to start shit,” I hiss. “It won’t work.”

  She settles her duffel-sized purse onto the bar, pulls out a baggie, and pushes it toward me. “Don’t believe me?”

  “What the fuck?” I say around a gag before sliding it back to her. “What is wrong with you? Who walks around with a bag of pregnancy tests?”

  “I found these tests in Jamie’s bathroom.”

  “And?”

  I won’t grant her the satisfaction of reacting to her games. She knew she’d have me on the bag of pregnancy tests surprise.

  “They’re not my tests, and we don’t have another roommate, so they have to be hers.”

  I stay quiet, clenching my jaw, and wait for her to get the hell out.

  “Since you two were … or are banging each other, I thought it might be something you’d like to know.”

  She needs to get out before my heart jumps out of my chest and lands in front of her.

  “Appreciate the concern, but you can leave.”

  “Do you think the baby is yours?”

  “Leave, Heather.”

  She stares at me, unblinking and unmoving.

  Fuck it.

  Jamie.

  I need to talk to Jamie.

  I turn, walk away from the bar, and charge toward my office. I slam the door shut behind me, tug my phone from the charger on my desk, and find a text from Jamie.

  Perfect fucking timing.

  Jamie: Is the offer to get some space at one of your places still open?

  Do I ask her?

  No way Jamie is sleeping around, and we’ve had sex a few times without protection.

  That can mean only one thing: the baby is mine.

  If those tests are even hers.

  My hands shaking, I nearly drop my phone when I reply.

  Me: Sure is.

  Are you pregnant with my baby?

  Is that why you’re coming here?

  Jamie: Are you at the bar?

  Me: Yes. You want to have drinks?

  If she’s pregnant, she can’t drink. She’ll decline. I flinch, remembering her not ordering wine at dinner. Jamie has made it clear that, in stressful situations, a glass of wine and Cheetos settle her nerves.

  Jamie: No. Maybe just some company, someone to talk to, vent to.

  Me: I’ll be here.

  Here waiting for you to break the news.

  To ease the crazy-ass thoughts spiraling through my head.

  I slump down in my chair and cover my face with my hands.

  A baby?

  So many mixed emotions pour through me, and the memory of when I found out Heather was pregnant with Noah surges through me. I was shocked but ecstatic, and damn it, my stomach flutters at the thought of having a baby with Jamie.

  Fuck. It’d be awesome.

  She’d be the best fucking mom in the world.

  I fidget with my phone, then a pen on my desk, and then a fucking paper clip while waiting for her. No way can I wait out in the bar. People will think I’m on speed, considering how pumped I am. I freeze, the paper clip falling through my fingers when there’s a knock on the door.

  I stand straight, expecting Jamie, but Archer walks in with the bag of pregnancy tests in his hand.

  “Uh … whoever that chick was, she left a present for you.” He cringes, flicks the bag onto my desk, and grabs the hand sanitizer next to my computer. “I didn’t want to throw them out, and it’d look pretty damn gross if I left them on the bar. I’m pissed I had to pick up those things that most likely have piss on them.”

  I silently stare at the bag of tests.

  “Did you get someone pregnant? That chick? What about Jamie?”

  “That chick is Jamie’s sister.”

  His jaw drops. “What the fuck? You’re banging her sister now too? Dude, from what you’ve told me about her, that’s dumb as hell.”

  I recoil at the thought of being with Heather again. “No, Heather has been trying to get back with me, but I told her to piss off. She’s living with Jamie, and she claims she found the tests in Jamie’s bathroom.”

  “Have you asked Jamie about it?”

  I shake my head. “When I got back to the office to call her, with perfect timing, she texted, asking if she could stop by the bar.”

  “That sounds like a pregnancy announcement to me.”

  I groan and rub my eyes. “Heather is known to be a liar, so I can’t take her word on shit.”

  “If Heather wanted you back, why would she tell you Jamie was pregnant with your baby? Wouldn’t you want Jamie?”

  “She insinuated that Jamie is pregnant with someone else’s baby. Heather knows something happened between Jamie and me, but I’m not sure how much she knows.”

  “Gotcha.” He taps a loose fist to his chest. “Thank fuck I don’t do relationships. Sounds like a major pain in the ass.”

  “If Jamie doesn’t give me a heads-up she’s here and comes into the bar, will you send her back here?”

  “I got you.”

  When he leaves, I shove the bag of tests into a drawer. I pace in front of my desk, gripping my phone, and wait for her.

  What if she doesn’t tell me?

  Do I bring it up?

  Confront her?

  I tense when there’s another knock on the door, and Jamie walks in, a shy smile on her face.

  “Hey, babe,” I say, dropping my phone onto my desk.

  “Hi.” She glances around the room, running her hands up and down her arms. “Are you busy? I didn’t mean to bombard you. I just needed to clear my head. Heather has been driving me nuts, and there are only so many hours I can work before they tell me I have to go home.”

  I sit on the edge of my desk to keep from falling flat on my face. “I’m never too busy for you.” I stand, rush across the room to grab a chair, and pull it toward her. “Sit down.”

  Don’t shake.

  Stay cool.

  Calm.

  Collected.

  She raises a brow and straightens out her dress before sitting. “Are you okay, Cohen? I can go—”

  “No,” I interrupt. “Stay.”

  She nods, hugging herself.

  I lean against the desk and cross my ankles. “You look well.”

  Are you pregnant?

&nbs
p; “I’m glad you think I look … well.” She laughs. “Even though you only saw me two days ago, and not much has changed.”

  “Do you feel well?”

  “Do I feel well? Yes …”

  “Anything big happen in those two days?”

  “I mean, stuff has happened, yes. I’ve been working and—”

  “Are you pregnant?” I blurt out.

  Her eyes widen. “What?”

  “Are you pregnant?”

  “How did—” Her gaze moves from one side of the room to the other. “What the …?”

  “Is it true?”

  She nods. “I was planning on telling you, just working up the nerve, but apparently, you’re the baby whisperer.”

  I scrub my hand over my face.

  “Are you mad?” she whispers.

  “Is the baby mine?”

  She winces. “Are you kidding me?”

  I hold up my arms. “I’m a dick for asking, and never would I doubt you, but Heather was spitting out some bullshit about it being someone else’s.”

  “Heather?” Her brows scrunch together. “When did you talk to Heather?”

  “She came to the bar about an hour ago.”

  “She came to the bar,” she slowly repeats.

  I circle my desk, pull out the bag of tests, and hold it up. “She dropped these off and said she found them in your bathroom.”

  Her face turns bright red. “I don’t know what’s more mortifying. My sister going through my trash and packing up something so personal to me or that she brought them here or that you’re holding them in front of me.” She blows out a forceful breath. “Now, I’m really done with her.”

  I toss the bag on my desk, lock the door, and fall to my knees in front of her. “Come stay with me then. If you don’t want to be near her and she won’t leave, come to me.”

  She peers down at me, biting into her lip. “You’d be okay with me staying with you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  I groan when she pinches my shoulder.

  “And by the way, of course the baby is yours. Before you, I hadn’t had sex in a year. You’re lucky you only got a pinch and not a smack to the face.”

  I’m sporting a shit-eating smirk while running my hands up and down her thighs underneath the loose yellow dress she’s wearing. “Are you really having my baby?”

  She nods, flashing me a flirtatious grin. “I’m really having your baby.”

  “Wow.” I kiss her knee. “This makes my fucking day.”

  “You’re not worried that this happened too fast?”

  I shake my head. “Sure, our relationship is new, but my feelings for you are strong enough that I’m ready for this—ready to jump headfirst and be with you, for us to be a family.”

  I groan deep in my throat as her eyes water, and I move my hand between her legs.

  She laughs. “You’re in a mood.”

  “Hell yes, I’m in a mood.” I flip her dress up. “In the mood to show the woman who’s having my baby how damn excited I am, how appreciative I am for her, and you deserve a reward for it.”

  She squeals when I move an arm to slip it around her waist, dragging her to the edge of the chair, and I part her thighs. Ducking my head, I drag her panties down her legs and yank her closer to my face. I savor the sound of her moan as I softly suck on her clit before thrusting two fingers inside her.

  “Look at that. My baby mama is soaked for me.”

  Her eyes are shut, and she’s licking her lips. “You’re really going to play out this baby mama thing, aren’t you?”

  “Damn straight.” My tongue joins my fingers, and I start devouring her—sucking and praising her pussy.

  I love how sensitive she is to my touch—how goose bumps cover her soft skin and how she shivers with my every thrust.

  She comes on my tongue, tasting delicious, and I suck on my finger before smearing her juices on my bottom lip.

  34

  Jamie

  Heat sweeps up my neck when Cohen walks me out of his office and through the bar. Archer raises a brow, taking in my wrinkled dress and the orgasmed-out expression on my face. When we reach my car, Cohen kisses me and asks me to come over later.

  “That sounds nice.”

  I have some business to attend to real quick.

  “See you later, baby mama.”

  “I’m so kicking your ass.”

  He winks and gives me one final kiss on my forehead.

  When I arrive at my house, all the sweetness I had with Cohen evaporates, and my nails are drawn. I stomp up the porch steps, my hands itching to snatch Heather’s shit and throw them out the window.

  “Have you lost your fucking mind?” I screech before coming to a stop.

  My parents, along with Heather, are sitting on the couch in my living room.

  Heather’s face is red with fake tears, my dad seems confused, and my mom looks hurt.

  I zip my finger toward Heather. “I want her out of my house now. I’ve been nice long enough. Put her in your house, get her an apartment—I don’t care what you do, but if you don’t make her leave, I’ll do it myself.”

  “She wants me out, so she can hang out here, pregnant with Cohen’s baby,” Heather screeches.

  “I want you out because you went all Oscar the Grouch and plucked pregnancy tests out of my trash can, bagged them up like you worked at a grocery store, and thought, Gee, I think it’ll be a good idea to take these to Cohen at his job. You even insinuated that another man might be the father, like I sleep around!”

  “Heather,” my mother gasps, shooting her a concerned look, “did you do that?”

  Heather stumbles for words. “She’s having sex with Cohen, Mom! I think that gives me every right to be furious.”

  “Enough,” my father yells.

  Thank God.

  “Heather, pack your shit,” he demands.

  Her eyes widen. “Wh-what?”

  “Listen to your father,” my mother says with an anger in her voice I’ve never heard before.

  “Now,” my father pushes, and she scrambles to her feet.

  My mother jumps up to help her with her crutches, but Heather swats her away.

  She points at me. “I can’t believe you’re taking her side. The woman who’s having sex with the father of her sister’s child. Your daughter is having his baby, and I’m the bad person?”

  No one says a word, and when she realizes she’s not getting the reaction she wants, she storms down the hallway to my guest bedroom, not even bothering with the crutches.

  Heather is bitching as she throws her belongings into her suitcase.

  I play with my hands in front of me to calm myself and dodge eye contact with my parents.

  “Jamie,” my mom says, causing me to look at her. “Is that true?” Her eyes drop to my stomach. “Are you pregnant?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  Not only did I take a million of the at-home pregnancy tests, but I also took a blood test at work to confirm.

  Positive.

  “That’s your sister’s …” She stops as if she can’t finish the sentence.

  I nod. “He is.”

  My father scrubs a hand over his face. “Jamie, this puts all of us in a stressful situation.”

  I fall on the chair across from them. “You guys know my heart.” I place my hand to my chest. “You know I don’t make stupid decisions. I love him.”

  My father rises from the couch. “It’s not fair for us to have this conversation while your sister is in the other room, throwing a tantrum. We’ll take her home and discuss this later.”

  I nod. “Thank you.”

  He kisses the top of my head, and tears are in my mother’s eyes as she hugs me.

  I go to my bedroom to avoid any Heather drama and wait until she leaves before coming out.

  My parents return an hour later, Heather-free, and we sit down in the living room.

  “How did this happen?” my mother asks.

  “I’ve
been spending a lot of time with Cohen and Noah, and I don’t know … as we did, I developed feelings for Cohen. Strong feelings.” A tear runs down my cheek. “This is complicated and puts you in a weird situation, and I get that. All I’m asking is for you to trust me, to believe in me, and to know that I’ve gone back and forth with Cohen. I’ve broken his heart, broken my own heart, by saying no to a relationship with him, but it’s not fair to us.”

  “You’re in love with him?” my father asks.

  “I am.”

  He slaps his hands on his legs. “That’s all that matters to me.”

  My mouth falls open. “What?”

  “You were right about making responsible decisions. If this relationship wasn’t that serious, if it wasn’t love, then you wouldn’t risk it.”

  I glance at my mother, tears also on her face.

  “You’re having a baby, honey,” she says with excitement. “It’s a shock, yes, and it’ll create some issues, but nothing will ever cause us to turn our backs on you. We love you.”

  I’m full-on crying.

  My fears dissolve.

  They don’t hate me.

  They aren’t disappointed in me.

  They still love me.

  “A big brother?” Noah shouts. “I’m going to be a big brother?”

  Cohen nods, sitting next to me on the couch, and grabs my hand in his. “You’re going to be a big brother, buddy.”

  Nothing will ever erase the memory of the beaming smile on his face.

  He grabs my arm and jumps up and down. “I have a mom, and now, I’m going to be a big brother! This is so cool!”

  Cohen and I shared countless talks on how to explain our relationship to Noah. Coming to a decision wasn’t easy, and we hoped we were making the right one. We didn’t ask for anyone’s opinion, and in the end, we decided we wouldn’t tell Noah I was his real mother’s sister. Maybe, in the future, that will change, but he’s too young to understand it now.

  The risk of running into Heather is low. She started another online relationship, this one with Pat’s cousin, and moved back to Vegas. My parents said when she left, she didn’t utter a word of apology, a word about mending things with Noah and Cohen, and definitely nothing about me—not surprising. What she did ask for was money.