As soon as Maddie was out of earshot, Mick said softly, “I don’t know what you want from me, but if it’s anything more than child support and my half of the childcare duties you’re going to be disappointed.”
Bridget’s bottom lip started to tremble again, but Mick cut her off before she could get started.
“Save your energy,” Mick said. “Tears won’t work on me anymore.”
Almost instantly, Bridget’s eyes stopped shining and her features shifted. Mick would have said she dropped her mask, but that wouldn’t be accurate. There was nothing real at the heart of Bridget—Mick ought to know, he’d hunted for it long enough. There was no authentic person to uncover, only a series of masks Bridget employed with such proficiency most people never realized there was nothing but emptiness underneath.
“I’m not the bad guy, Mickey,” Bridget said, using the nickname Mick had always hated, even at the beginning when he’d been so smitten with his beautiful new girlfriend he’d been willing to forgive a multitude of sins. “You’re the one who left without saying goodbye, without even a note to explain why you ended a two year relationship.”
“You know why,” Mick said. “And you know it wouldn’t have been a two year relationship if you hadn’t blackmailed me into staying with you.”
Bridget frowned, seeming genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about threatening to kill yourself if I broke up with you.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “What? I might have said it felt like I would die without you because I loved you so much, but I never—”
“Don’t. Just don’t,” Mick said, rage that she was playing dumb warring with the ugly suspicion that Bridget didn’t remember things the way he did.
He’d noticed her propensity to rewrite history before. He’d assumed she did it consciously to make herself feel better about that class she’d failed, or why she didn’t make the varsity cheer squad, but maybe that wasn’t the case. Maybe Bridget was even more out of touch with reality than he’d assumed—which meant she was even more of a danger to their unborn baby.
Thoughts of lawyers and custody battles and other assorted ugliness Mick didn’t want to think about rushed through his head, making his heart beat unhealthily in his ears. He didn’t want to be a dad right now—certainly not a single dad—but he might end up fighting for the privilege in order to protect his son or daughter.
“Mick, please,” Bridget said, fingers twining together on top of the table. “I know this isn’t the way either one of us planned to start a family, but this baby needs you. I need you, and I know we can all be happy together if you’ll give it a chance.”
Mick shook his head. “We will never be together again, Bridget. I’m with Faith, but even if I weren’t, you and I are over. For good.”
Bridget’s forehead wrinkled, but the determination in her eyes didn’t waver. “You can’t mean that. We’re meant to be, Mick. Deep down, you know that.”
“No, I don’t,” Mick said, voice rising.
“You do,” Bridget insisted. “You feel the connection between us, I know you do. And our child is more important than a crush on some girl you barely know. You’re a good man, Mick, and in the end you’ll do what’s right.”
Mick ran a frustrated hand through his hair, wondering what it was going to take to prove to Bridget that what she wanted was never going to happen. It wouldn’t be right for him to marry her when he was in love with someone else, and seeing his or her father trapped in a loveless marriage certainly wouldn’t be doing Mick’s unborn child any favors.
But before he could think how to frame his thoughts in a way that would hopefully penetrate his ex’s thick skull, Maddie appeared with the cup of warm milk.
“I put a little cinnamon and sugar in it,” Maddie said as she placed the steaming cup in front of Bridget. “Careful, it’s hot.”
“Thank you so much.” Bridget smiled at Maddie, looking so innocent and lovely Mick couldn’t blame Maddie for being drawn in.
Bridget brought out the protective instinct in almost everyone—until they got to know her better and realized there was a will of iron hidden inside the petite brunette and the only thing she needed protecting from was her own stubbornness.
Even her parents knew she was a handful. The one time Mick had gone home with Bridget for a long weekend, the sympathetic glances Mr. and Mrs. Betts shot him across the dinner table as Bridget told him exactly what they’d be doing for the rest of the weekend had chilled Mick to the bone. He had never felt more like a captive than he did that night, going to sleep on the Bettses’ living room couch with pictures of Bridget throughout the years staring down at him from the fireplace mantel, seeming to condemn him to a life lived jerking to attention every time she tugged his strings.
But he wasn’t a puppet, and it was past time to make that abundantly clear.
“I intend to do the right thing,” Mick said. “But that doesn’t include us getting back together. I’ll be there to do whatever I can to help with the baby, but—”
“Assuming it’s yours,” Maddie cut in, shocking Mick.
Shocking Bridget, too, judging from the startled, offended sound that burst from her lips. “What are you saying?” Bridget demanded, tone harder than it had been up to this point. “Of course this is Mick’s baby.”
“And if the paternity test proves that, then I know my brother will be there with financial and parenting support,” Maddie said in a calm tone. “And Naomi and I will be the best aunts any kid could hope for.”
“We don’t need a paternity test,” Bridget said, anger flashing in her eyes. “I’m due any day, exactly nine months from the night Mick and I last slept together. I haven’t been with anyone else, and he knows I’m telling the truth about the broken condom.”
Maddie smiled, but didn’t shift her attention from Bridget’s face. “I’m sure he does, and he’s such a good person he probably won’t even stop to think that you might have done something to make it break.”
Bridget paled, not much, but enough to make Mick’s stomach go sour.
“But I’m not that nice,” Maddie continued. “And I know how miserable you made my brother last year, and if you think for one second I’m going to stand by and let you wreck his life, you are sadly mistaken. There will be a paternity test, or there will be no assistance of any kind from anyone in this family. Is that clear?”
“I can’t believe this, Mick,” Bridget said, voice breaking. “I came here hoping for some support and all I—”
“Enough,” Mick said, holding up both hands as Maddie turned to him, a pleading look in her eyes. He knew she wanted to help, but this wasn’t the way. “Thank you, but I can handle this from here.”
“Are you sure?” Maddie asked, brow still furrowed. “Because I can get Naomi. You know she’s even tougher than I am.”
“I’m a grown man, Mad,” Mick said gently. “I can stand on my own two feet.”
And he could, he realized. He wasn’t going to let Bridget or anyone else control him ever again. Now that he knew what it felt like to be loved—really loved, by a woman who accepted him for who he was—he knew he had never been doing Bridget any favors. She was never going to grow up and change her ways if people kept indulging her crazy, and the kind of relationship she’d forced on him wasn’t love. It wasn’t anything remotely close.
“All right.” Maddie squeezed his shoulder on her way to the door. “But call me if you need me.”
“Thanks,” Mick said, holding Bridget’s gaze as Maddie stepped out and started down the stairs.
Bridget swallowed hard, her thin neck visibly working. “Is this what you want, Mick? To make the mother of your baby feel like a slut?”
Mick pulled in a ragged breath. He didn’t think Bridget would lie about something like this, and she’d never even glanced sideways at another guy while they were together—but God, what if Maddie was right? What if Bridget had made this happen? What if she’d deliberately
tampered with the condom?
He wouldn’t put it past her. She wouldn’t have thought about the innocent life she was bringing into the world or all the far-reaching consequences of her actions, she would have only thought that having his baby would bind Mick to her in a way he would never be able to escape.
“Please, Mick,” Bridget continued. “You know me. You know there has never been anyone for me but you. I’ll do whatever you want me to do to prove it, but—”
“What I want is some time to think,” Mick said, rubbing his temple, which had been throbbing ever since he spotted Bridget downstairs. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why keep it a secret until so close to time for the baby to be born?”
Bridget sniffed as she glanced down at the warm milk in her hands. “I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” The more Mick thought about it, the stranger it seemed that Bridget had waited so long to contact him. Sure, he’d changed cell phones, but she knew where his family lived and proven she could track him down when she wanted to. It wasn’t like Bridget to let months of holding something over his head slip through her fingers; there had to be some other reason she’d waited.
“I need an answer,” Mick pressed when she continued to stare down at her mug in silence.
“Well…I spotted a lot at first,” she said, voice soft. “There was blood almost every day, and I worried I was going to lose the baby and… And then my mom and dad were being difficult and…I just had a hard time finding a way to reach you.”
Mick frowned. “How were your mom and dad being difficult? What do they think about all this?”
“They don’t understand me,” Bridget said, reaching up to adjust the ribbon in her hair, though it was already perfectly tied. “They never have. That’s why I have to stay here. With you.”
She shifted her gaze, meeting Mick’s with a desperate look in her eyes. “Please, Mick. Let me stay here with you. I don’t have anywhere else to go, and I’m scared of doing this all alone.”
If she had been anyone else, Mick would have reached over and taken her hand, but she was Bridget and he didn’t want to give her any reason to think he was reconsidering his position. He felt sorry for her and worried about their baby and afraid for the future, but no matter what happened he wasn’t going to take her in and take care of her. It was time for Bridget to stand on her own two feet if she was capable, or to find professional help if she wasn’t.
“You aren’t alone,” Mick said instead, his voice firm, but gentle. “I meant what I said. I’m here to help with money and am happy to split custody fifty-fifty. I can even take the baby more at first if you need time to work things out with your parents, or to get yourself together.”
Or log some quality time with a shrink.
“We will work this out,” he continued. “You are not alone, and you don’t have to be afraid. I will make sure this baby never wants for anything.”
Bridget sniffed. “But I don’t want to split custody. I want to be a family.”
Mick held her gaze, willing her to look into his eyes and see the truth. “No, Bridget. We will never be a family. I will never live with you, I will never love you, and I will never touch you again.”
Bridget’s lip started to tremble again. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” Mick said. “I’m sorry if that hurts you, but it’s the truth. And nothing is going to change that.”
“You’ll change your mind,” she said, silent tears streaming down her face even as she smiled. “I know you will. I’ll make you understand.”
Mick sighed, realizing this conversation was futile. He might as well be reasoning with a rock.
No, a rock would probably be more receptive to logic.
“All right,” he said, running a hand through his hair as he pushed his chair away from the table. “Leave a number where I can reach you on my desk before you go. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can talk more about what to do over the phone.”
“Where are you going?” Bridget asked, brows drawing together as she watched Mick stand.
“I’m going to find Faith and apologize for ruining her Valentine’s Day.”
“What about me?” Bridget’s hands tightened around her cup until her fingertips went white. “What about ruining my life?”
Mick stared down at her. “You’re in charge of your life, Bridget. Not me. If it isn’t going the way you’d like, I suggest you take a look in the mirror and make a few changes in the way you do business.”
Bridget’s nostrils flared. “So this is all my fault. I got pregnant all on my own, is that it? I guess you are going to ask for a paternity test then, and add insult to the rest of your abuse.”
“As long as the baby’s born in the right time frame, I don’t need a test. I know you were too busy making my life miserable to sleep with anyone else while we were together,” Mick said as he turned toward the door, ignoring Bridget’s outraged huff.
Bridget had been the abusive party in their relationship, but she would never admit it. She was determined to play the victim, to keep right on blaming everyone else for her problems.
“Come back here, Mick,” she said, the words followed by a loud thump he assumed was her fist hitting the table, but he didn’t turn back to look.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Feel free to let yourself out.” Mick stepped out onto the landing and started down the stairs, ignoring Bridget’s cry for him to wait.
He was through waiting, and he wasn’t going to let Bridget or anyone else get between him and the woman he loved.
Chapter Fourteen
Faith hadn’t cried in public in years, not since she was fifteen and rolled a four-wheeler on her uncle’s property, breaking her arm in two places when she’d collided with a fallen tree. And then she’d only cried for a few minutes, determined to pull herself together before her cousins returned with help.
The fact that there were tears in her eyes as she hurried across the street to the firehouse was enough to send a tsunami of shame sweeping through her insides.
Pull yourself together, Miller. Get a grip!
But she couldn’t seem to pull herself together. The harder she tried, the faster the tears fell. By the time she reached her truck, she was a soppy, snotty mess and shaking so hard she dropped her keys on the concrete not once, but twice, before she finally managed to shove the key in the door.
She was so miserable, she didn’t hear anyone call her name or even realize another person was close until a big, warm hand settled on her back.
“Whatthefuck,” Faith said in a rush as she spun around, knocking the hand away as she lifted her fists, instinctively preparing to defend herself.
“Easy, killer. Just saying hello.” Jamison backed away with his hands raised, his laughter fading as he got a good look at her face. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Faith swiped the sleeve of her sweater across her face, mopping up some of the mess, wishing she’d made her escape before anyone saw what a wreck she was.
“Is it Whitehouse? Did he do something?” Jamison asked, scowl deepening. “Because if he did, I’m prepared to go teach him some manners. I tried to warn Maddie that you two were moving too fast, but she wouldn’t—”
“Mick didn’t do anything,” Faith said, propping her hands on her hips. “And if he had, I would take care of him myself. I know I’ve needed help with Mom sometimes, but that’s an extreme situation, Jamison. When it comes to my own love life, I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself, by myself, and I’m sick of you acting like I’m a child without the brains God gave a billy goat.”
Jamison’s eyebrows lifted. “Sorry,” he said, obviously shocked by the force of her reaction.
Faith was shocked too, and knew her words were at least twenty percent hot air. Sure, she could take care of herself…but she didn’t want to anymore.
She didn’t want to face the future standing on her own two feet without anyone to lean on. She liked the way Mick looked
out for her, the way he checked the refrigerator before they ran out of half-and-half for their morning coffee and insisted she take the occasional break from her brutal workout routine to let her body recover and her muscles heal. She appreciated the way her rubbed her shoulders after her third night sleeping on the lumpy cot at the station and the way he listened when she talked, making her feel safe telling him things she’d never told another living soul.
And it wasn’t just him being there for her that she loved. She loved the way he rested his head in her lap after dinner, wanting her to run her fingers through his hair while he talked through his latest home improvement design because her touch helped him think. She liked cooking him breakfast and grabbing his dirty clothes so they could do laundry together at her place. She liked taking care of him, and being taken care of. The thought of going back to life without the precious intimacies she’d started to take for granted the past few weeks was flat-out devastating.
So devastating tears were already welling in her eyes all over again, even with Jamison standing right in front of her.
“Hey, now,” Jamison said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Then what’s the matter? What happened to make your pretty face all red?”
Faith pressed her lips together, fighting another wave of tears. Jamison only said sweet things to her when she was really down, and she couldn’t remember him ever calling her pretty. She must truly be a pathetic-looking specimen indeed.
“You can talk to me, you know. About anything at all.” Jamison leaned down, looking her in the eye with an expression so kind it made Faith’s heart feel like it was going to break all over again. “I won’t tell a soul if you don’t want me to. I just want to help.”
Faith sniffed, the unfamiliar urge to spill her guts warring with her usual “saying nothing is best when feelings are concerned” policy.
“Is it your mom?” Jamison asked. “Did something happen?”
Faith shook her head. “No. It’s…Mick’s horrible ex-girlfriend,” she confessed, the dam breaking. “She’s here, and she’s pregnant.”
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