by jm blake
Bash scoffs and takes a step as well. “Darling girl, I admire your tenacity, I do. But my brother is here for some information, and we are not leaving until he gets it. Kindly move.” Brin’s chin sets in a stubborn angle, and though they are not related by blood, the expression is pure Cassidy. Bash must recognize the look too because his arm shoots out and pushes the cracked door over their heads. “Cassidy? Cassidy Michael Masters, get your gorgeous arse out here.” Bash’s voice carries, and both women shriek in anger. Brin pushes Gemma back in an attempt to slam the door, but it’s too late.
“Bash? Is that you?”
Found you, girl.
Cassidy
I’m starving.
“What the heck is Gem doing out there? Is she flirting with the delivery guy again?” Brin’s face squinches up in annoyance. I shrug with a grin, and she rolls her eyes.
Gem’s penchant for flirting with anyone and everyone is a significant source of fights between my sisters. Brin is serious (borderline joyless, but don’t tell her I said that)- suspicious and instinctive; she goes with her gut and claims that it never lets her down. Gem is the complete opposite- she’s fun-loving and mischievous and will bat her eyes at anything from nine months to ninety years old. Gemma has always been boy crazy, and half the time, I think she does it purely to get on our older sister’s nerves. The poor kid that delivers our pizza can’t be older than sixteen, but Gem tortures him anyway.
“Well, whatever she’s doing, I wish she would hurry up. I’m about to start chewing on my arm like a coyote.” I take a glance at the video monitor on the table and rub my stomach. They don’t tell you that being a human milk factory will burn calories and keep you always hungry. And you know I can eat.
“I’ll go out and yank her back in. I swear one of these days she is going to get kidnapped. And I’m seriously considering not paying the ransom.” Brin shoves her hands deep into her pants pockets and backs out of the kitchen.
“Please. It would never get that far. They’d throw her back in an hour.” We both laugh, and it’s awful good to see her smile. She’s a stunning woman, but her stoic expression hides it. Guess that’s why she’s such a good lawyer.
“Be right back.” I hear her call out to Gem through the door and get up to grab some paper plates. I hear a faint whimper and recheck the monitor, but everything is quiet. I spread out the plates and grab a roll of paper towels. We definitely aren’t dining at the Ritz tonight.
After the baby was born, I envisioned all sorts of home-cooked meals and cozy nights with the four of us. I bought a new dining room table and everything. Let me tell you how that went: it didn’t. I barely got three hours of sleep a night, and when the baby woke up, we all woke up. None of us have any experience with babies, and books are malarkey. None of them prepared me for anything- and I have two Ph.D.’s. Not the sleep (and shower) deprivation, the weird weight shifts, the exhaustion. And this kid eats every two hours and likes to be up: not crying, not fussing- just up. I’ve fallen asleep on the toilet and even standing up at the refrigerator. I seriously considered giving up breastfeeding, just so that my sisters could help feed the little milk gremlin. And I’m still trying to get the pump thing down pat. So we’ve barely cooked a thing- the most being a two-ingredient cake that I made yesterday. This is the third pizza we’ve had this week.
I hear a weird scuffling at the front door and faintly raised voices. What is going on out there? I suddenly hear both my sisters yell and then something I thought I never hear, ever.
“Cassidy? Cassidy Michael Masters, get your gorgeous arse out here.”
What the fuck?
There is no way in hell…
“Bash? Is that you? I tiptoe into the foyer and see my sisters trying to form some sort of human wall. Gemma has her legs splayed out braced against the frame, while Brin is trying to pull the door shut. A long, muscular arm shoots out above their heads and pushes the door.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“What are you doing here?” I call out. I shove at the arms and legs, blocking the door, and instead of moving, they tighten. “Will you two quit it?”
I push some more and suddenly see Gemma’s body lift and suspend in the air. She squeals in outrage, and a hand shoots out and pulls me around Brin. Bash is holding a squirming Gem…so who has ahold of my arm? I turn my head slowly and pray to every angel in heaven that it’s not…
Ayden.
“Hello, love.”
Good god. Why is my first thought about my clothes? I haven’t showered today, and I’m positive I smell like baby milk and sweat. Have I even combed my hair??
“Um. Hi?” I manage to croak out, while desperately wishing a hole would swallow me up. And of course, he looks like a fucking wet dream. Was his hair always that thick? Lips that full? Body so hard? His mouth does that half-smile thing that always drove me crazy, and he still hasn’t let go of my hand. What the hell is he doing here?
“What are you doing here?” He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know—
“Would you believe that I was in the neighborhood?” His lips quirk, giving me a glimpse of his perfect white teeth. “Or that I got lost on the way to a meeting?” More teeth.
“No, we don’t believe that.” Brin’s hard voice is behind me, but Ayden doesn’t look away from my face. He takes in every detail, and I curse the heavens above for not even giving me a warning to at least change my shirt.
“You look beautiful.” He tugs on my hand and pulls me closer. My body doesn’t even put up a lick of a fight- the traitor just floats right along. The rich scent of his cologne reaches up and tickles my nose. “You know why I’m here, don’t you?” His voice is low and rumbly like I remember. I gulp and slowly shake my head.
He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know—
His free hand swipes behind my neck and pulls my braid over my shoulder. “No clue, hmm?” His warm amber eyes are soft and gleaming. I shrug just a mute ball of anxiety and something else.
“You left London with something of mine, didn’t you?”
Fuck. He knows.
“I, uh, don’t know. Did I pack one of your t-shirts or something?” I shift on my feet and try to tug my hand free. He tightens his grip and moves closer. His face tilts down toward mine; his breath dances across my lips. I freeze on the spot, fighting a thousand urges. “Love, tell me.” Jesus. Was he always this handsome? My eyes drift to the blonde patch at his temple, and my stomach clenches.
“I…”
A soft whimper and then cry sounds out from the monitor tucked into my back pocket. Ayden’s eyes widen while mine close. My boobs start to tingle, and the cry gets louder.
“I’ll go.” Gemma manages to wiggle out of Bash’s grip and rushes back into the house.
“I think these two have something to discuss. Lovely girl, offer me a drink, why don’t you?” Bash’s voice is amused but firm.
“Don’t call me a lovely girl. And we have water and American beer in the fridge- help yourself. Cass, do you want me out here with you?” I open my eyes and turn around. Brin is glaring at Bash, who is grinning like a wolf at her, and I shake my head.
“No, I’ll be okay. Be nice to Bash, please.” She scoffs while jerking her head to the door. Bash’s brows raise, and he dutifully walks to the door, stopping first to drop a kiss and whisper on my head.
“He has missed you, gorgeous. Cut him a break.” He kisses me again and dramatically salutes Brin. She rolls her eyes and closes the door behind him.
“Is it a boy to a girl?”
* * *
“This is not how I pictured this going.” I’m pacing like a madwoman, adjusting my bra straps every two seconds. Any minute now, I’m going to start leaking like a faucet, and my humiliation will be complete. Never in one million years, dreams or nightmares, could I have imagined this. Yes, I’ve thought about it- but in true Cassidy fashion, I pushed it all away. And now here he is, larger than life, handsome as a devil, and also my kid�
��s father.
“Really? How did you picture it?” Ayden is leaning comfortably on the narrow railing, hands tucked into his trouser pockets. “And you didn’t answer me— do we have a boy or a girl?” I stop my maniacal walking and sigh. I rub my forehead and feel a heavy exhaustion blanket over me.
“It’s a boy,” I tell him softly. His face morphs into about one hundred emotions: fear, trepidation, pride? “Kian Alexander Masters.” His brows quirk in annoyance before smoothing out. “Kian? How do you spell it?”
I spell it out, and he nods absently. “Alexander is my middle name. Well, one of them. It’s a St. Devane family name.” I feel my eyebrows raise and shrug with one shoulder. “I didn’t know. That’s cool…” My voice fades. All of this guilt swirling inside me wars with the anger and hurt that has been baking inside of me for the past year. I want to rail at him, order him away, lock the door, and have a magical portal help me disappear. I’ve never been good with feelings, and this avalanche threatening me is scaring me to death.
“He’s healthy? You’re well?” That perfect face is killing me; his expression genuinely earnest and worried. I can feel the thunder of emotions in the distance.
“He’s amazing. And yeah, I’m okay,” I pull self-consciously at my dirty t-shirt. “I apparently had a crazy easy pregnancy. And the labor part was really quick. The doctor said he had never seen a baby so eager to come out.” I smile thinking about Dr. Parson, who is known for his affection for newborns. He kissed Kian right when he came out and said, ‘Well now you are here, young man. Go be great.’
My boobs start aching, and I rub my forehead again. We can figure out how he found out later. “I’ve got to go feed Kian before I have an accident.” I gesture to my chest, and he frowns. “I’m breastfeeding. If I don’t let this go, I’ll make a mess. It’s called the Let-Down Reflex.” I ramble on and on. His whiskey eyes widen, and he straightens up, comically looking me up and down, as if any moment, Old Faithful is going to erupt from various body parts. “Oh! Well, erm, lead the way.” He gestures to the door, and I pause before walking ahead of him. I can feel the heat of his body on my back like the sun.
We enter my small house, and I think back on the screaming luxury of his flat in London. My place is nothing like that. The foyer leads to the right (kitchen) or the left (living room). The stairs to the second level are right in front of us. I gesture him to follow me to the living room. Gemma is curled up on the window seat furiously typing into her phone, while Brin has Kian wrapped tightly in her arms. Bash is hovering behind her, desperately trying to get a peek, but she’s playing keep-away with the baby and glaring at Bash.
“Sabrina,” I scold my sister. “Have you let him see the baby at all?” She stubbornly shakes her head, and Bash frowns behind her. “Stop being that way. Give over.” I hold out my arms, and she angles her body to prevent Ayden or Bash from even getting a look at a tiny foot. I pinch her and turn around to adjust my shirt. Smelling his mama, the little piglet starts grunting and fussing. A drop of milk hits his little pink lips, and he latches on greedily, sucking like his life depends on it. I drape the blanket over him and adjust discreetly. I face everyone and almost bump into Ayden, who is only a few inches behind me, eyes peeled onto the baby.
“He’s a good eater,” I smile a little and sit. Ayden slides next to me, thigh touching mine, looking at every inch of the both of us. His hand reaches out hesitantly, and he carefully strokes the back of Kian’s little chubby hand.
“He’s so little.” His purring voice is tinged in awe and pride. Brin snorts.
“He’s most certainly is not. He’s a big boy—ten pounds at birth. Judging by you and this joker behind me, he’s going to be a big guy when he grows up.” She jabs a thumb over her shoulder and smirks.
“My whole family is tall. He will be a big fellow.” Ayden leans closer and watches the baby’s cheeks furiously moving. Kian’s eyes shift suspiciously at the new face that’s hovering over him- pausing with what I swear is annoyance. Ayden sees it too and chuckles. “He’s got his mumma’s temper, I see.” The doorbell rings and Brin throws a withering glance at Gem, who hasn’t looked up from her phone once.
“I’ll get it. That’s the pizza.” She stalks out of the room, walking in a wide circle to avoid Bash, who bats his lashes at her. She returns quickly, placing the boxes on the coffee table, leaving briefly to grab the paper plate and napkins. “Gem, are you going to eat?” Gem just shakes her auburn head, fingers twitching and typing. Brin slaps two slices onto a plate and shoves them at Bash, who stares at her for a moment before gingerly accepting it. She repeats the motion, placing the pizza roughly in front of Ayden, who hasn’t moved his eyes off the baby, before finally feeding herself. She folds the pizza in half, New York style, and takes a big bite- green eyes challenging Bash. He looks at his plate, then her, before folding his slice and taking a sophisticated bite. She throws a napkin his way, grinning in triumph.
I shake my head at their antics and see that Kian is slowing down. He shouldn’t be that hungry because he just ate about three hours ago, but this kid is a bottomless pit. He unlatches, eyes sleepy and sated. “Grab that burp cloth over there, will you?” I gesture toward the pile that is on the ottoman, and Ayden leans to get it. “Okay, place it over your shoulder.” He looks at me quizzically but obeys. I pull my shirt down and maneuver Kian around. Before he can even blink, I’ve handed him to Ayden who arms immediately tighten. His face is terrified, and I grin. “Okay, put him over your shoulder like this.” I help him flip the baby until Kian is draped on his muscular shoulder.
“Now, pat his back until he burps.” I can barely hold back my laughter as Ayden gives him the smallest pats ever, like a feather hitting the wind. “You can be a little more aggressive- like this.” I pat the little back, and Ayden copies me, clearly afraid. “How will I know if he burps?” Before the words leave his mouth, the baby lets out the rip of the century. Ayden is delighted, and I laugh. “Keep going; he probably has a few more in there.” I turn away to refasten my nursing bra, and sure enough, the little guy pushes out two more.
“Hold his head. There you go. He likes to be able to see your face.” I grab a slice of pizza and observe Ayden cradle his son and finally get a good look at him. My eyes sting when I see his face light up. “Jesus, he’s beautiful.” His elegant fingers drift over the thick downy dark hair, pausing at the Mallen streak that Kian inherited from him. “He’s got my patch.” His eyes flash at me, and he continues his perusal. Even if I wanted to, I could never deny that this is his son. He looks exactly like Ayden. Bash finishes his pizza and squats in front of his brother.
“Bloody hell, that’s a good looking boy. Pure St. Devane, down to the eyebrows.” He stokes Kian’s cheek, which squinches up. His lone dimple peeks out, and Bash grins. “He’s got his mumma’s dimples. You did good, gorgeous.” He leans in and kisses the baby’s temple and takes a sniff. “He smells amazing.”
Ayden lifts him slightly. “He smells like Cassidy.” My cheeks get hot around my chewing, and I look away. I take another slice and watch the St. Devane boys bond, Kian curious with Ayden and Bash falling in love. Bash starts making weird noises; eventually, the baby gives them a huge grin. “He’s your boy Ayden, but that is Cassidy’s smile.” My eyes water up again, and I chew harder. Ayden is absently patting the padded rump, and soon, Kian’s amber eyes start to drift close. His pink rosebud lips part in a slight snore, and he’s out like a light.
“You can put him in the Moses basket.” Ayden gingerly gets to his feet and awkwardly turns in circles, until he figures out how to put the baby down. He covers him with a blanket and sits on the floor, staring into the basket. The sight of his long-form folded in half while drooling over his son is doing something weird to my insides. I look up at Brin, who is watching me worried.
“Um, Mr. St Devane?” Gem comes out of her phone coma and sits on the couch directly across from Ayden. She has a strange expression on her face- anger and excitement battling
it out.