by Taryn Quinn
I strolled in just in time to hear the words “wedding” and “don’t have long to choose a venue.”
“Who’s getting married?” I snatched another piece of bacon, biting it just as my mother answered.
“Why, you are. Aren’t you?”
That was when I started to choke.
Handily, there was a sip or two left in my glass of juice. When I drained them, Oliver was considerately there to pour some more.
“Says who?” I sputtered, throwing a glance at him before he returned to the stove. He seemed to be avoiding actually sitting down, and now I knew why.
Good God, what had he said to them while I was blissfully asleep?
My dad folded and refolded the newspaper he’d had his face hidden behind for most of the time since I’d originally come into the kitchen. “We wondered why you wouldn’t contact us to tell us you were planning on getting married, but Oliver reminded me we’d been out of touch a lot since leaving town.”
“Oh, did he now?” I shot mental daggers at his back, my mind whirling. What the hell was he thinking? Why would he lie to them that we were getting married? Unless…unless…
“Did he tell you about the baby? Is that what this is all about?”
Silence reigned, making me think that nope, that was the wrong guess.
Perhaps he’d taken a proactive position, wanting to assure them we would get married before I told them about the kid on the way? But that was also insane, considering we hadn’t discussed marriage. We had not even discussed actual commitment. The word girlfriend had been tossed about—mostly in my own head—but that was not enough to marriage make.
“Baby?” My mother leaped up from the table and jogged around it to physically grab my flat—well, mostly flat-ish, at least pre-bacon gorging—stomach. “You have a baby in there? His baby?”
“Unless all those dreams about Ian Somerhalder paid off in ways I never imagined.”
Oliver grunted and shifted to lean against the stove, lifting a mug of coffee to his lips. “I didn’t tell them. I figured you wanted to.”
“Kind of you.” I shook my head as my mother finally stopped groping my stomach for signs of life and backed off. “Maybe you could have held off on the wedding talk too? I mean, wedding, seriously? What’s gotten into you?”
“You told me what you wanted last night. Spelled it out quite clearly.” He lifted a shoulder and sipped as if he was making all the sense in the world and I was just being silly. Much as he’d done for the entirety of our relationship up until Vegas—which explained why I had wanted to off him in bloody and inventive ways most of the time. “I just assumed you were serious.”
“You assumed an awful lot it sounds like.”
“Okay, rewind some of this for us.” My mother sagged into the seat opposite me and reached out to grab my father’s hand for support. He had seemingly gone mute. Traumatized beyond speech, perhaps. “You quite obviously spent the night here with him and were wearing his clothes, indicating you’re involved at the very least.” Her ears went pink. “And you’re pregnant?”
I nodded and poked at my cooling eggs. I’d lost all will to eat. Dang shame. “Yes. I just found out last night before Ally had her baby.”
“Oh, she did! Is he adorable beyond belief?”
“He was in the picture I saw. I was supposed to go back this morning, but it’s actually getting late.” I glanced at my watch. For the first time in history, I was actually excited to go to work. Anything to escape this hot mess of a breakfast. “I have a shift at the diner soon.”
“You don’t need to worry about that any longer.”
Oliver’s dismissive tone made me frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You truly have forgotten everything you said last night.”
“I didn’t say anything about my job.” Had I been sleep-talking or something? Or could be he’d just started reading minds.
Except he was wrong. I’d rather deal with Greta’s grumpiness than spend more time trying to figure out how we’d gone from incredible, slightly kinky sex and beautiful rose gold necklaces to picking venues for our wedding when he hadn’t even proposed to me. Forget that, he hadn’t even mentioned us moving in together. Or even having a standing date at the Sherman Inn for Monday Night Football and the wing special. Nothing.
“You most certainly did. I asked you your preferred scenario for having this baby, and you said you wanted to be married and a housewife. In a manner of speaking,” he added as I tugged at my turtleneck sweater. My face might as well have been on fire. “And if we’re going to do the whole traditional deal, we should do it now before you start to show.”
“Oh, should we now? Because God forbid the blessed Hamilton name be tarnished by an out-of-wedlock baby.”
“It’s a small town,” he said tightly. “I didn’t want people to speculate. Just easier all the way around. But if it’s not what you want—”
“Oh, what I want matters now? I also didn’t say I wanted to be married to you.”
Ugh, I so didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just meant we’d been talking hypotheticals last night, and he’d gotten way specific without doing the usual things that led to that point.
Like saying “I love you” and “Will you marry me, Sage?”
Then waiting for an answer to such before booking the hall. Or judge’s chambers. Because knowing Oliver, expedient would mean the quickest, lowest-frills venue possible.
Christ, we might as well have had Elvis do the deed. It would’ve been more romantic than what Oliver probably had in mind.
No time for love and romance! Bun in the oven. What will people say?
Well, fuck the hell right out of that. As for appearances? Screw them too. I wasn’t making life-changing decisions in case some of the town biddies or buddies might have something to say about my big belly. It was 2018, and a woman could be married or unmarried or heterosexual or bisexual or anything else, and no one had any right to say jack about it.
“Excuse me for assuming.” He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. “I figured since you spent the night in my bed that the idea probably wasn’t abhorrent.”
“It might not be abhorrent if you weren’t going about this all wrong.” My throat was aching so much it was amazing I could even speak.
“Oh, am I? At least I didn’t tell you I wanted to get married, just not to you.”
“I didn’t say that. Exactly,” I muttered.
“Yes, you did,” my mother put in. “Exactly that. And I have to say, sweet pea, all this has me concerned. You used to tell us everything. Now we’re totally left in the dark and you don’t seem happy.” She laced her fingers with my father’s. “Maybe we never should have left you here alone. We thought the independence would be good for you, but—”
“The independence is good for me. Very good. Which is exactly why I don’t want some man deciding for me that I’m going to get married and quit my job just because I was honest about my someday-in-a-perfect-world dreams. That isn’t my world, Oliver.”
His eyes flashed. “No, but you’re carrying my baby. We can’t just bury our heads in the sand. Decisions have to be made. It’s time to grow up and act like adults.”
“Right. And you’re the guy I had serious doubts could even deal with a child, because for all these years, the only thing you’ve ever held is your dick.”
My mother gasped, but I wasn’t through.
“You were so careful about making sure you had no permanent entanglements, but now I’m supposed to believe you want to be a father and a husband, just like that?”
Oliver gripped the edge of the stove until his knuckles whitened. “People change.”
“They most certainly do. But you need to make someone believe that, not just say it and assume they’ll take it as fact with no corroborating evidence.” I jerked to my feet. “Oh, and FYI? I am acting like an adult. I’m taking care of myself and my child, and it’s up to you if you want to be involved. But I thoug
ht I made it very clear last night that I can handle this on my own. I can stand on my own two feet and take care of what has to be done without anyone making decisions for me because I’m too feebleminded to make them myself.”
“For Christ’s sake, woman, I never said you were feebleminded. I was trying to do what I thought you wanted.”
“Oh yeah? How about asking me? How would you like it if I went to your father and told him we were getting married without running it by you first? How would that make you feel?” I covered my face with my hands, unable to believe this was my reality right now. “I know you think you were doing the right thing, but it wasn’t. Not even close.”
“Well, then, for fuck’s sake, tell me. Tell me how I’m supposed to make this right, because it all seems very wrong.”
I dropped my hands. “You can’t,” I said finally. “You know why? Because in all your rational decision making, you forgot one vital ingredient. Do you know why people usually get married, Oliver?” My voice was brutally soft as I stepped forward. “Hint: it’s not because it’s the solution to a problem. It’s because they’re in love and want to spend their lives together.”
He stared at me, his stony jaw set and unyielding.
“I know you don’t love me. That’s okay. But I won’t live a pretend life just so I can try to convince my child of a pretty lie. I told you last night that this isn’t a Seth and Marjorie situation, and it isn’t. You don’t have enough money in the world to make me give up my baby.” I swallowed hard, determined not to cry. One more facet of being an adult. “Nor will you strong-arm me into doing what you think is best for our child.”
“You have no clue what I’m thinking. Or feeling.”
“Maybe I don’t. But now you know what it’s like when someone assumes.”
I turned to face my parents, who looked about as stunned as I felt. “I’m so glad you’re in town. I’ll talk to Ally today and we’ll coordinate when we can all have dinner and you can meet the baby.” I moved forward to give my mom a long hug, then did the same with my dad. “I’m sorry this morning was so weird. We’ll talk more later, I promise.”
“So that’s it?” Oliver asked. “You’re just leaving?”
“I have to get to work.” I reached up to touch the bow necklace he’d given me, oddly drawing strength from the smooth rose gold under my fingers. “We’ll talk soon.”
He glanced at my mostly still full plate. “You barely touched your breakfast.”
“Guess I’m not as hungry as I thought.”
Eighteen
Oliver
I’d never been dumped by a woman before.
All right, that was a lie. There had been one who’d “let me down easy” in college, and she’d been the teacher’s assistant I’d lost my virginity to, which had completely sucked. There had also been several women where it had been mutual. But this putting myself on the line and being turned down flat was a wholly new experience.
I didn’t like it.
I’d followed my usual modus operandi. I had come up with a plan of sorts and begun to execute it, certain it was the correct choice for Sage and my child. Only to be kicked back with a heavy dose of the truth.
I hadn’t asked her to marry me. Frankly, it hadn’t even occurred to me. I knew people made a big show of proposals. There was that airplane banner we’d seen in Vegas, and of course my own brother had gone with fireworks to propose to Ally. He’d needed to give her romance, so he’d offered her pomp and circumstance. The difference there was, they’d had ten years to build a foundation of love and trust and friendship. Sage and I had been frenemies until a month ago.
Yet somehow you thought a piece of jewelry and rose petals would suffice as your quota of romance?
I was an idiot. Clearly. I’d prided myself on not being like my brother. I would never marry a woman I couldn’t love just for a child. Would never find myself in that position. And I hadn’t, because my feelings for Sage far exceeded anything Seth had ever felt for Marjorie.
Did Sage know that? No. Because I’d assumed we could move expeditiously and do what looked best for appearances, then take the rest as it came.
Coward.
Sage didn’t give two shits about appearances. I’d been wrong in not seeing that before. I’d called her strong when I gave her the bow necklace I’d chosen for her, but I hadn’t begun to acknowledge her depths. She was just like that knot. Resilient. Incapable of breaking. Holding her ground no matter what pulled at her or from how many sides.
Her love for our child rocked me to my core. Already, she was an incredible mother, and the baby hadn’t even been born yet. It made me want to work harder to be worthy of her. Of them.
I had screwed up, plain and simple. I had to prove to her how I felt. Showing her what she meant to me was so much more important than empty actions. I’d believed she would understand how much I cared for her and the baby from what I did. Waking up beside her, going to sleep at her side at night. My willingness to share my life with her, to be there for our child, seemed like it should be enough.
It wasn’t. Not by miles.
Obviously, I needed some schooling. My first inclination was to immediately fix things. To order up some grand-scale romantic gesture that would make up for my colossal flub. But that wasn’t the answer either. Sage wanted the romance, yet she was far more practical than I’d given her credit for. I couldn’t just phone it in with a generic one-size-fits-all happy ending.
I had to risk myself. Put everything on the line, even knowing there was a good chance it wouldn’t be enough.
At the root of things, I knew my feelings for her, and how they were growing by the day. I didn’t know hers for me. Sexual attraction only went so far. But I wasn’t giving up. This wasn’t just about claiming my child—it was about claiming my woman too.
Mine, both of them.
For the better part of a week, I gave her space. It killed me not to see her or to ask all the questions that I’d laughed at when it came to my brother’s incessant pestering of his wife. He’d hovered over Ally, concerned about every step of her pregnancy, and I’d rolled my eyes. I’d heard of helicopter parents, but before the kid was even born? C’mon, man. And he’d told me one day, you’ll understand.
I did now.
But I bided my time. I had a brand-new nephew to spoil. Now being around babies had taken on a significance, considering the fact I would have my own in the not-too-distant future.
“You’re a natural with Alexander,” Ally murmured a few days later as I rocked the blissfully sleeping baby. The fates had taken pity on me, and he had a full belly thanks to Ally nursing him before I arrived. Seth was building a snowman with Laurie in the backyard, so for a few minutes, the house was quiet.
“What’s not natural is naming an innocent child Alexander when his last name is Hamilton. Do you want him to be mercilessly teased in school?”
She rolled her eyes at me as she refolded the baby blanket I’d brought over for the kid. “It’s a distinguished name. Your father loved it.”
“I’m sure he did. But Alexander’s peers are going to make him a laughingstock.”
“Half of his peers probably won’t even know who the original Alexander Hamilton was. This is the smartphone generation, you know.”
“Our Alexander’s peers will not be that ignorant. Surely he will only attend the best schools.” I sifted my fingers through his thatch of dark hair. “Do you think his eyes will stay blue?”
“I don’t know. I hope so, but sometimes a baby’s eye color changes.”
“Laurie was a lot fussier than he seems to be.” As if he’d heard me, he opened his big blue eyes and yawned. A big yawn that made me laugh. “You’re awfully tired, huh, buddy? It’s hard being an adorable baby and having everyone fawn all over you.”
“He’s sleeping easy for you. He’s not always that content when we hold him. Maybe it’s just that natural thing of yours I mentioned. Baby whisperer. Handy skill to have, considering futur
e events.” Ally smiled serenely at me when I gave her a pointed glance.
Sage must’ve told her about our child. Yet neither of us were going there. We’d just tiptoe around the situation until we had no choice. Or more accurately, until I was certain without a doubt that Sage didn’t mind it being discussed. After my colossal fuck-up of the other day, I wasn’t assuming anything anymore.
“You weren’t planning on having a child last year. Amazing how time changes things.”
“Time and a persistent Hamilton.” She leaned forward and brushed her fingers over Alexander’s soft cheek. “I’ve found that a Hamilton man who puts his mind to a task can accomplish just about anything.”
I frowned. Was that her way of pushing me to go after Sage? Could that be possible, considering both she and my brother had acted like the idea of us having intercourse was akin to the devil lying with the Virgin Mary?
“Is that so?”
“It is. It’s also true that sometimes Hamilton men make wrong-headed assumptions. And then persist in them far too long.”
I was about to interject when she continued. “For example, take Seth. He made up his mind that you are—to use an antiquated term—a lady killer. Someone who enjoys the chase more than the person they’re pursuing. I have my doubts if that’s true.”
“Oh, do you now? Since when?”
“Since my best friend told me you were exactly the man she needed in Vegas.”
I didn’t know what to say. So, I said nothing.
Had Sage truly told Ally that? Sage had intimated such the night she’d told me about the baby, but still, it was a lot to believe. Or was my sister-in-law trying to repay me for helping her and Seth when they’d broken up due to a rift, and now was trying to match-make?
“I’m not talking in the carnal sense.”
“Good, because no, thank you, and also,” I pointed at her son, “little ears.”
Ally fussed with the blanket she was still folding and refolding. She probably didn’t want to have this conversation any more than I did. But she must think it mattered enough to try. That Sage and I mattered enough.