Depends on Who's Asking

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  Not that he really needed to know that.

  “Should’ve known when I wasn’t willing to give that to your mother that it wasn’t meant to be for us.” He paused. “She made a great president’s wife, though. I guess I have her to thank for that.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  That was why my father and I would never be ‘close.’

  He was thinking about his political career while he could’ve just as easily said ‘she gave me you.’

  “Give her what?” I asked.

  “When I decided to run for president again, she told me that she didn’t want me to. I almost listened. Maybe I should have.” He shrugged.

  Maybe he should have.

  Maybe he should have!

  “Dad.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You can’t just go doing things like that. That’s not how marriages work!”

  Dad shrugged. “Well, I know that now, don’t I?”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t.

  Instead, I changed the subject.

  Kind of, anyway.

  Dad didn’t like to have his subjects changed completely, and if I wanted to talk about something else, I would need to gently steer him in the other direction.

  That was why Dad always kicked ass during his debates. He never let anything go, even if the opponent wanted to. He may, for the time being, let it go. But he would always circle back around to where he wanted to be.

  “The boys told me that you weren’t going to run for president any longer,” I murmured.

  I was so fucking thankful for that, too. Like, unbelievably. The idea of having to go through another presidential term with him was terrifying.

  I wouldn’t actually ‘do’ anything with him, but that fear of ‘what if’ would always be there.

  What if they found me? Now us. What if they assassinated my dad? What if they captured and tortured him? All of those things were very, very likely, which was scary as hell.

  “Actually.” Dad scrubbed his face with his hand. “If I had you at my side, I could do this.” His eyes turned to Carolina in calculation. “I have the ‘my wife was murdered’ thing at my back. I have the ‘I was shot’ pity card. With you there at my side, with your pretty little wife, I think I could make it.”

  I was already shaking my head.

  “That’s not going to happen,” I said. “I’m not doing this again. I’m done. I left on purpose. I don’t want this life. I don’t want to have anything to do with it. I’m sorry if that bothers you, but that’s the way it is. It’s not going to happen.”

  Plus, I’d never, ever force Carolina into that.

  “What about if I win?” he asked. “You’re not going to come to the inauguration?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  Dad looked pissed then.

  “This isn’t a death sentence, Saint,” he said. “Why the hell are you treating it like one?”

  I didn’t know what he was talking about.

  My hand tightened on Carolina’s inadvertently, and she squeezed back.

  “It is a death sentence, though,” I said. “How many death threat letters did I get when I was a kid? How many fucking times did I have to go to school under full protection? How many times did I attend some function and then have to leave before I’d even gotten too far into it because of some stupid bomb threat to the building? I couldn’t go to movies. I couldn’t go to dances at the school. I was bullied so badly when my security detail wasn’t there over some fuckin’ policy that you wanted passed that I literally dreaded the days that they weren’t there. So no, I’m not doing it.”

  Carolina let go of my hand then and took hold of my entire arm, sensing that I was on the verge of losing my shit.

  “Come on.” Dad waved away my worries with a feeble sweep of his hand. “Your childhood was great. What kid can say he got to live at the White House?” He looked at Carolina then. “You don’t want this?”

  “A few can say that, actually,” Carolina said, naming off at least twelve names that she knew were children during their parent’s presidency. “And no, I don’t want this. I probably wouldn’t really want it if I wasn’t with Saint. But now that I am, and I’ve heard his stories about his childhood, seen his struggles, I wouldn’t want that. Not for us, and not bringing a child up into it, either.”

  “There are no children yet.” Dad again wrote off our words. “Y’all are being ridiculous. You’re not children anymore. So it doesn’t matter. You’re adults. You can deal with stuff better than you used to.”

  So. Fucking. Stubborn.

  “Not yet,” Carolina said. “As in, not this month. But in eight of them, there will be.”

  That bomb dropped so delicately into the room around us that it was hard to breathe.

  I looked down at Carolina to see a ‘whoopsie’ written all over her face, as if she hadn’t meant to reveal that, that I would’ve laughed had this not been so freakin’ serious.

  Dad sighed. “Just what we need. A scandal baby. An unmarried scandal baby. For the love of God, go get freakin’ married.”

  My eye twitched.

  With that last comment, I was done.

  “All right, Dad,” I said. “Well, it’s been fun. I’ll see you next year.”

  “Son…” Dad said, realizing he went too far.

  But like I said, I really was done.

  Not just this time, but for all future times, too.

  Hell, I might not even go see him around the holidays anymore.

  This was just getting too old.

  Dad didn’t care. Never cared.

  This was always the end result with him. His way or no way.

  Carolina latched on to my arm just a little bit tighter and walked out with me.

  I closed Dad’s door on his growled ‘come back here’ and kept walking to the end of the hallway where I could see the three men who’d given us privacy.

  That’s when I turned back to see that there were two new men at the door.

  “You heard?” I guessed. “That he’s planning to still run?”

  They all nodded, but Brad was the one to speak.

  “We’re all done,” he said. “We’re getting too old for this shit, and it’s obvious that he’s going to do this. I thought he wasn’t. He said he wasn’t. Then he started to think about how ‘good it would look’ and how many ‘people will feel pity for him.’ I should’ve never let your mother or your father’s advisor do that, which means that it’s time I’m done. If he’s doing this, he needs new people that can keep him safe.”

  I agreed.

  I also had a feeling that this wasn’t going to happen like my father thought it was going to happen.

  Holding out my hand to the three men, they each shook it before I said, “Don’t be strangers, okay?”

  Daniel patted my shoulder. “It’s time that I find a hot, sexy woman. I hear that your town has a lot of them.”

  Carolina giggled then.

  “I’ve heard that, too,” she teased.

  Daniel pumped the air with his fist. “You’ll be seeing me at least.”

  Brad was shaking his head. “I’ve actually found a job consulting with someone near you, anyway. Met a few people while I was down there. You’ll be seeing more of me.”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  Consulting.

  When would he…

  “Lynn?” I guessed.

  Brad winked. “Maybe.”

  “I’m going home to my wife,” Phillipe said. “Sorry, folks. But the bayous of Louisiana have my heart. Oh, and my wife. Her, too.”

  We all started laughing.

  In fact, I was laughing as I led Carolina into the parking garage, too.

  That laughter slid off my face, though, when Carolina said, “You’re not mad, are you?”

  I didn’t say anything until I opened the truck door for her and she climbed in.

  Only when she was buckled did I lean in and press a kiss to her face.

  “No, I�
�m not,” I answered. “I probably should’ve realized that it was going to happen. I mean, we’re both healthy adults. Shit like that happens when you do what we did. We knew, yet we did it anyway.” I paused. “When did you find out?”

  She lifted her hand to my face and pulled me in to kiss me.

  When she was through, she said, “Last night. I called my doctor the day before. I told her that I needed to get on birth control. Then she asked if there was a chance I could be pregnant, and I was all…I don’t know. And in between picking up your present that I never gave you and then, I ran into her office to have my blood drawn really quick. She called back a couple of hours later and told me not to start the birth control that she’d given me. It normally doesn’t work that fast, but the doctor is actually one of my mother’s sisters. She, uh, said that I was just barely pregnant. Like, there’s probably not even a heartbeat yet early.”

  Heartbeat.

  Holy shit.

  She was really pregnant.

  “I don’t have very good parents to base parenting on,” I admitted, pressing my forehead against her temple. “I hope I don’t fuck this up.”

  She snickered. “Don’t think that I haven’t seen you with Asa. I heard you were climbing the ropes with him at the training facility last week. You even taught him how to climb that rope faster.”

  I had.

  Asa was Booth’s son. Booth had to bring him to training days sometimes, and when he was there, I made sure to teach him shit that would be useful for a kid to know.

  I like kids.

  I just wasn’t sure how they would like me.

  Or how I would raise one, seeing as I didn’t have my mother and father to teach me.

  “You had Brad,” she said. “You had Phillipe. You had Daniel. They may not be your actual parents, but they were your family. They taught you things that you never would’ve learned otherwise.”

  She was right.

  Still, I was freaking out.

  I didn’t want to fuck up a kid like my parents did.

  “We’ll get through this,” she said. “One day at a time. And you may not have great parents, but I did. You can just let me make every important decision.”

  At that, I burst out laughing.

  “Yeah, I’ll just do that.”

  She kissed me on the nose.

  “Now, drive us to get some donuts,” she ordered.

  “It’s eleven in the morning,” I pointed out.

  “Then drive us somewhere that has a bakery that I can get something donut-like,” she amended.

  I rolled my eyes but ultimately did what she asked.

  And in the end, it was totally worth it seeing as she got a powdered donut and dripped it all over her breasts.

  Then I made out with her in the truck and made sure to clean off each speck of powder with my tongue before driving home.

  By the time we finally arrived home, I was more than ready to finish what we started.

  CHAPTER 23

  Just so we’re clear, the Grinch never really hated Christmas. He hated people.

  -True Fact

  CAROLINA

  Two months later

  “I’m going to have to come in for adjustments,” I told my seamstress. “I’m expanding by the day. If I can’t get in today, just go ahead and put an extra couple of inches into the bodice and waist. But can you make it fall in a way that you can’t tell that I’m pregnant?”

  She started to laugh. “Get real, Carolina. You’re like a tiny little doll with a cute little belly. And you chose a mermaid style dress. There’s no way in hell you’re hiding that. Have you told your mother yet?”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “You’re supposed to be a miracle worker,” I told my aunt. “And yes, for your information, I told her today. You can feel free to talk to her about it all you want now.”

  “I’m not capable of that kind of miracle,” she said. “The real miracle would be you Pena kids keeping your legs closed!”

  I gasped in outrage. “I am only on my first!”

  “Yeah,” Aunt Noel said. “But what about Booth? And Bourne? Hell, don’t even get me started on my kids.”

  “Your kids are fifteen and thirteen,” I said. “We’re all in our twenties. I think they have time.”

  “True,” she said. “But Cameo is like this randy little bastard exactly like his father…”

  She trailed off into a fit of Spanish, making me want to laugh.

  “I’ll let you go. But yeah, if you can add a bit more to the boobs, I’d be grateful.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she admitted. “But no, I can’t get you in today. I’m sorry. I have four wedding parties coming in in the next two hours.”

  After we said our goodbyes, I continued to drive to the police station.

  I was nervous.

  I’d already been to visit my mother, and I swore her to secrecy and made her promise that she wouldn’t call my dad until I had a chance to talk to him.

  She told me that I had thirty minutes.

  I’d intended to tell them both at dinner tomorrow night. That’d been why I’d been running by my mother’s place to see if she wanted to grab dinner with us. But she’d taken one look at me and known that I was pregnant based solely on the fact that I had a green tinge to my face.

  It’d woken up with a vengeance the day before, and I wasn’t able to hide it from anyone. Especially not my mother who knew me better than anyone other than Saint.

  Anyway, after she learned the news, she’d immediately wanted to call my father.

  Which I’d forbidden her from doing because I had a onesie I wanted to give him.

  I’d seen it on Etsy and had fallen in love with it.

  Pulling into the parking lot, I took the spot next to my father’s truck and started to haul ass inside with my small gift bag in my hand.

  I’d texted Saint, but I’d gotten the ‘I’m at a call’ text from him which either meant that he was on a SWAT call or pulling someone over.

  I sent him a reply back telling him what I was doing, then walked with purpose to the back door of the police station.

  When I was close, I sent my father a text.

  Carolina: Marco

  Daddy: At work

  Carolina: Where at work?

  Daddy: Why?

  Carolina: Because I asked you.

  Daddy: You’re here to visit me and not Saint?

  Carolina: I’ll just leave this brownie I got you in the trash next to the back door…

  It took him all of a half a minute to get to the back door.

  He narrowed his eyes on me when he didn’t see any brownie.

  “You liar,” he said, eyes taking me in. “What are you doing?”

  I pushed past him into the hallway, surprised when I nearly walked straight into Luke and Downy.

  “Oh, hello.”

  Downy grinned. Luke winked.

  “Did you bring us a brownie?” Downy asked.

  “Umm,” I hesitated. “I didn’t even bring my dad one. I just wanted him to open the back door.”

  Downy started to chuckle.

  “I have some snack cakes in my car, though,” I admitted. “I just went to the grocery store.”

  Luke held his hand out. “Keys.”

  I dropped them into his open palm and he took off, leaving Downy and my dad behind.

  “What’s in the bag?” Downy asked.

  I scrunched up my nose. “Umm,” I hesitated. “Something for my dad.”

  Dad peeked inside. “What?”

  I took a deep breath and handed him the bag, butterflies taking flight in my belly.

  He looked at me like whatever I’d put in it was going to jump out and bite him.

  “It’s not bad!” I exploded, throwing my hands up.

  “Then why do you look like you’re about to puke?” he asked.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Open it.”

  He sighed and pulled out the tissue paper, dropping it onto the gro
und.

  I bent down and picked it up right as he was pulling the onesie out of the bag.

  His head tilted to the side as he studied it.

  “Bad boys, bad boys, what you gonna do when my papa comes for you?” Dad read.

  Then his face blanched.

  “You’re not, are you?” He squinted at me.

  I nodded. “I was going to tell you tomorrow at dinner, and not at work, but your wife is a jerk and found out.”

  “Your mother isn’t a jerk,” Dad corrected me. “Your brothers are, though. You might want to tell them before they think they’re the last to know.”

  I looked behind me to see them both coming into the station, along with my soon-to-be husband.

  That was about the time that the door behind me opened with Luke already digging into a Little Debbie.

  He tossed the box at Downy, who took one out.

  That’s when I saw that Luke had nabbed my chocolate milk, too.

  “Hey! That’s mine!” I cried, reaching for it.

  Luke lifted it up over my head, and I growled.

  “I’ll so totally climb you like a tree, Uncle Luke!” I yelled, trying to latch on to his arm but slipping right back off when he tickled me.

  “Down girl.” Luke put his hand on my forehead and pushed me away.

  I could do nothing but go because he was bigger, taller, and stronger.

  “Saint!” I cried. “He’s drinking all of my chocolate milk!”

  “Careful there, Lucas,” Michael warned. “She’s pregnant and will literally kill you.”

  Clayton and Connor gasped.

  “No shit?” Luke grinned, still not giving me my milk.

  Saint came up to me and pulled me into his arms, his hand going around my belly to splay wide.

  That’s when I realized we were all rather cramped in a narrow hallway.

  My back was to Saint. His was to the wall. Luke was still fairly close with his back to the back door. My dad was staring at me as if he’d never seen me before, and Downy was standing shoulder to shoulder with my brothers, who were still gaping, finishing off his Little Debbie.

  “No shit,” I said. “Now, give me my milk. I’m not kidding. I’ll totally call Aunt Reese.”

  Luke sighed and handed it over, and I cradled it to my chest as if it was a small child.