Do Over Rules: A Secret Baby Surprise (The Archer Brothers Series Book 4)

by Jenna Gunn

  I close my eyes and drop my head back on the seat for a second when I remember there’s still hours of things to do ahead. Including trying to smooth things out with Bishop.

  My phone rings just as I am starting the car. I grimace when I see the number. I was afraid he’d call. “Hello, Franco.”

  “You left so abruptly we didn’t get to talk about meeting again. Want to go back to the beach gym again today?”

  “Not today, I have too much to do.”

  “Tomorrow then?”

  “I’m sorry, Franco, I don’t think it’s a good idea right now. Plus I’m really busy with the new job and with Bruno.”

  For a second I wonder if he hung up, the line goes so quiet.

  I say, “How long are you in town?”

  “I’m uncertain, yet. I’m waiting on some things to fall into place. I’ll know when the time is right to leave.”

  I try to think of a way to end the call without decisively saying I will not be getting together with him. “I see. Well, enjoy your visit. It’s a lovely town as I am sure you know. I’ll ring you if my schedule opens up.”

  “It is a small town. You just never know where we might bump into each other.”

  “I guess…”

  “Goodbye, Mia. Tell Bruno and Bishop hello for me.”

  “Bye.” I punch the End Call button with an irritated jab.

  I look in the rearview at Bruno who’s chewing on Raffe. “These men, they’re making me crazy. Bruno. I’m glad you are so easy to get along with. Give you a giraffe and an animal cracker and you are all smiles.”

  When I get back to Pelican Point Ben Archer is parking his car just as I pull in. I’m trying to gather the baby, my purse, and the groceries when he comes to my aid. “What would you prefer for me to take?”

  “The bags I think.”

  He gathers everything up and nods for me to start toward the house. “You two settling in well?”

  “We are. Bruno loves the babies and all his new uncles and aunts.”

  “I’ll try to hang out with him some soon. I’ve been a bit tied up with projects at Becka’s house. Sorry.”

  I smile, pleased that he’s interested in getting to know Bruno. “Any time, is fine.”

  “And Bishop, he’s doing well at being a father?”

  I hold the door for Ben, “I had no idea how wonderful he would be.”

  “That’s good. I know he’s a good man. But—“

  He doesn’t finish his thoughts. Should I prod? Bishop and his dad have had their share of tensions, many of which included something to do with me.

  I finally get the nerve to ask, “But, what?”

  He sets the grocery bags on the counter and turns to face me. “I hoped he had enough sense to move on and try to get over the pain of your divorce.”

  I set Bruno down and he scurries over to the toys laying on the floor.

  “Actually I’d like to talk with you about that if you don’t mind.”

  The man nods solemnly.

  “Can I ask what you know about the divorce?”

  “That you were in Europe and decided that you were done with the marriage because of some belief that he’d been unfaithful.”

  I find my fingers twisting together. It almost feels too personal to talk to him about this. “That’s correct. But there’s more.”

  “Go on.”

  “Someone sent me evidence. And I took it at face value. I didn’t look closely enough. The evidence is rigged.”

  His brows furrow into one mad line. “Rigged, as in set up?”

  “Yes. Bishop and I now believe that he was set up, and we don’t know why someone would want to destroy our marriage.”

  The muscle in his jaw ticks, his eyes hold mine. “And why did you keep the baby from him?”

  “I was scared and stupid. The people I traveled with had me convinced that Bishop would get custody, that I’d never get to be with Bruno. I felt a deep shattering betrayal that the one person who was solid in my life had done something so awful.”

  His fists clench at his sides. “I’m sorry. This has to be very difficult.”

  “It is. I’m hoping we can figure out who did this to us.”

  Bruno toddles over and pushes a plastic toy truck into Ben’s hands. He kneels down and pushes it around the floor. His eyes rise to mine. “Do you have any leads?”

  “Not yet, but a friend of Christian’s is looking into it.”

  “Good. It will be good to close that chapter.”

  I breathe a little easier. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  After a few minutes of playing with the car he rises, “Mia, I know I’ve come across as being less than happy about your and Bishop’s relationship from the beginning. I think I was unfair. You’re a good woman. You two just fueled each other’s wildness. I can see it in a different light now.”

  Ben pushes his hands into his pockets, just like Bishop does. Rocks back on his heels. “When you were gone, Bishop was a shell of himself. I see him coming back to life now. I realize you always gave him something he wanted, or maybe needed. I’m glad you’re back. And I’m glad you’re the mother to my oldest grandchild.”

  Everything inside me chokes up. I’ve never seen this hard man so open. I always knew he wanted the best for his boys, even if it came out as hard expectations, but he fathered them like a sledgehammer. Mrs. Archer, before she passed was the soft counterbalance to Ben as much as she could be.

  Seems time has changed him, just as it has me, and Bishop too. “Thank you, Ben. That means the world to me.”

  The screen door opens and Bishop walks in. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  I turn away toward the groceries to hide the emotion that might be in my eyes. “Your dad helped me bring in the groceries. He and Bruno were just playing.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Anytime. I’ll just be going now.”

  “Come down for dinner sometime?” I ask.

  “I’d like that. Bye, Bruno.”

  Bruno waves and Bishop follows his dad out. I hear low voices from outside. When Bishop returns I finally meet his eyes. “What did you two talk about?”

  “Dad said he told you he was happy you’re here.”

  “He did.”

  Bishop raises his brows. “Surprised the hell out of me.”

  “Me too. I admit, it makes me feel a lot better about living here.”

  Bishop takes the milk out of the bag and puts it in the fridge. “How was your day?”

  “Madness, but I survived. And yours?”

  “Stressful actually. Lots of rip current rescues. I’ve been in the water a lot. I think I’m going to the garage to work on the car restoration for a while. I’d like to wind down.”

  “Sure, yeah. I’ll just do… you know normal evening things around here.” I say, a little surprised and yet a little relieved. Him wanting space gives me a little space too.

  +++

  The garage is gigantic and the vintage station wagon that Bishop is restoring is on blocks right in the middle of one of the bays. The stereo in the corner is playing country music but no one is in sight. “Hello, anyone here?”

  “Under here.” Bishop wheels himself out from under the car. He’s wearing some kind of navy blue coveralls with the sleeves rolled up. There’s grease on his hands and even a smudge on his cheek.

  I always loved that Bishop could do stuff…I mean specifically fix things. He could jump start a car, change a tire, repair things in the house. Things my father never did. Somehow it seemed to define Bishop as more capable than a lot of men I had known. But my world was limited to acrobats and performers, and showmen.

  There were so many things about Bishop that attracted me. He was wild but solid. He was my complete fantasy lover. He was just more… and I lost my heart swift and hard to him.

  Maybe that’s why it hurt so bad when I thought…

  Stop it, Mia. Move forward. Think about now, not the past.

  I hold up a basket of f
ood, “I brought dinner.”

  Bishop’s expression is flat as he looks me and the basket over. “Where’s Bruno?”

  ‘With Anya and Brandon.”

  “Let me wash up.”

  I walk around the project as he cleans up in the corner sink. The car is beautiful with its shiny wooden accents. “This looks great. How long have you been working on it?”

  He walks toward me, slowly drying his hands on a shop towel as he returns. “Almost two years.”

  So right after the disaster with us.

  “Was it in bad condition when you started?”

  He chuckles. “Pathetic. I’ll show you some photos.”

  I smile. “It’s far from pathetic now.”

  He shrugs and looks away… “I guess.”

  I can’t get a sense on what’s going on in his head. Maybe it was the tough day…or maybe it was Franco. Or maybe it’s just me he’s put out with.

  Before the hurt shows on my face I say, “I didn’t make anything fancy. Just cheesesteaks.”

  “More than I would have had. Garage nights are usually potato chips and beer nights for me. Or if I’m feeling really motivated I might order pizza.” He points to the two long car seats propped agains the wall. “We can sit over there, if you want to stay and eat with me.”

  He pops the fridge door open. “Water or beer? Actually there’s a fizzy carbonated thing of some kind too. How it got in this fridge I have no idea.”

  “Bring the fizzy thing. I’ll get it out of the man fridge.”

  He holds up the can. “Cherry seltzer water. Actually, I don’t hate these things, I just don’t know who put it in there.”

  I unpack the sandwiches and napkins. “Don’t the other guys hang out here too.”

  “Sometimes. But I’m the one who’s lived in here pretty much for the last two years.”

  I pop the top on the seltzer, it fizzes loudly. “I didn’t know you like working on old cars.”

  “Neither did I. But I had to do something with my time after—“

  “I know, I did too. I poured myself into training. And reading everything I could on how to be a parent.”

  Bishop accepts the sandwich and slowly unwraps it. “I always thought it would be fascinating to go through pregnancy with your partner.”

  Low—low as a pebble at the bottom of a big ravine, that’s how his words make me feel. I stole his chance to experience the miracle of our child growing inside me week by week. He didn’t get to be there when Bruno was born. He missed those amazing first days and weeks when all I could do was stare at the tiny baby fingers and watch his eyes begin to recognize the world around him.

  It feels like a pathetic thing to say, but I start with “I’m sorry.”

  He concentrates hard on opening his sandwich, unwrapping the foil slowly.

  I say, “I hope you get to experience it sometime.”

  “What was it like? When he was born?”

  My eyes suddenly fill with mist. “Incredible and insane. I didn’t get very big during the pregnancy, but when he was born I swear he was half as big as he is now. I couldn’t believe I could do it. But I did.”

  “Where was he born?”

  “In Spain. In a hospital.”

  “Was it…beautiful?”

  “Oh heavens yes. I was so ready to meet him.”

  He falls silent as he eats. I want to say something. Anything to ease his pain. “Bruno’s last name is Archer.”

  “Thank you,” he says quietly. Then he falls silent, his brow hard as he eats. I try to choke down my own sandwich, but find it nearly impossible to get it past the soccer ball sized lump in my throat. Finally his eyes flick to mine, then float down to his hands. “And yours?”

  I knew this question was coming sooner or later. Bishop wasn’t at the community center when I filled out the work documents so he didn’t see the name I use. When I gave Bruno the name Archer, I had decided I wanted us to be the same. “Archer.”

  Those same dark, intense eyes rise to mine again. “Why?”

  It’s my turn to look away. “It seemed right.”

  I jump when his hand brushes over my head and slides down my shoulder. He wraps his hand in mine.

  The urge to turn into his arms is so strong…but I don’t. Fragile. That’s how the moment feels. And I want it to be whatever we need it to be.

  Chapter Twenty

  It’s like the screws in my heart are getting turned little by little. Squeezing the living hell out of the thing. It’s like there’s this volcano of emotion in there, waiting to rupture the seams.

  I don’t know what that emotion is.

  Or maybe it’s just a big fucking ball of every emotion known to man.

  Mia holds my hand and the radio projects songs about love, no less. And we sit and we don’t say a thing. I can barely breathe. But I manage to stay present.

  Part of me longs for the way we were before. Part of me wants to see what the future holds. If we can make it past these tragic twists and turns we may…

  I don’t know what we can become.

  Steel is forged by fire, as they say.

  I know it’s getting late so I finally break the quiet web that’s snared us. “Thanks for dinner.”

  “You’re welcome. I should probably go. It’s past Bruno’s bed time. I’m not a great mom by a lot of standards.”

  My voice comes out hoarse, “You’re a good mom, Mia. Don’t think otherwise.”

  She packs away all the remnants of dinner. “I’m trying.”

  I walk her to the door. “Don’t wait up. I’ve got some things to finish up.”

  My guess is she thinks I’m avoiding going to bed at the same time she does. Partly true. But I also have something else to do.

  She nods and disappears quietly toward the house.

  When I get Christian’s text I quickly wrap up the last few tasks I had hope to accomplish on the restoration. The transmission work is almost complete.

  I’ve cleaned up and put my tools away when Christian and Mike P. walk in. I have a couple of beers open and ready. I pass them out to them. “Thanks for coming.”

  Christian nods toward the project, “How’s the tranny?”

  “Good, almost back together.”

  Mike raises his eyebrows. “That’s quite a project. Aren’t those things worth a lot of money?”

  “They can be.”

  Christian laughs. “He means yes, this one will be. Very soon. What you think this thing will bring?”

  “About Eighty K. Which equates to about four dollars an hour of my time.”

  Mike whistles. “Wow, impressive.”

  I nod toward the makeshift lounge. “Shall we sit down?”

  Christian opens the pantry cabinets next to the fridge. “I knew you’d have something to eat in here.”

  “What, Maddy not feed you tonight?”

  “Hours ago. I need a snack.”

  I laugh. “She not feeding you enough.”

  “She’s always looking out for my health, not like I’m fat or anything, but she says it’s antioxidant or something like that. So don’t tell her I ate some chips.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.”

  Mike sticks his hand in the chip bag when Christian offers it. “No one at home to cook for me so I get the say so.”

  Christian laughs, “But you’re the one who cooks all that fancy vegetarian stuff.”

  “What can I say, I like plants.”

  The convo veers into how we all like this veg restaurant and what our favorite dishes are. There’s always food talk in the garage so it seems.

  Mike finally pulls an envelope out of his back pocket. “Got some names for you here.”

  I lean forward and pick the packet up off the makeshift coffee table which is made from a car rim with a board across it. The folded paper has three names, addresses, and numbers written on in. There’s a red magic marker arrow pointing to the one in the middle.

  “I marked the one that’s the most li
kely. I got a look at some of his work, and it seems to match. Same shitty video work even. I made a call to him too.” He laughs, “Hope you don’t mind. But I thought maybe being a third party I could be more effective on getting some answers. Plus the guy kind of knows me…”

  “Shit, man. Thanks. Did you find anything out?”

  “Maybe, it’s kind of vague though. I like more solid answers. But it’s a start.”

  My insides feel cold as I wait.

  Mike says, “He was contracted for a job by email, he wouldn’t say this job, around that same time. The purpose of the contract was to help a wife get out of an abusive relationship.”

  Christian grunts, then says, “What the fuck?”

  Mike says, “Women use that excuse sometimes even if it isn’t true.”

  “Goddamn right it wasn’t true. Bishop would never abuse Mia.”

  I barely hear their conversation. I’m to busy caving inward into a deep black hole inside my self.

  My cold gut now feels like it’s been doused in acid. I can’t really form any words for a few minutes.

  Christian breaks the silence. “Remember man, this could have been anyone.”

  I ask, “How much does something like this cost?”

  “For this guy, he’s not cheap. He charges seven thousand and up.”

  Christian sits up. “That’s a lot of damn money. Would Mia have that kind of cash?”

  I shake my head. “Not that I know of. We did each have some money that wasn’t in our shared accounts.”

  Mike asks, “Could she have sold something? A wedding ring or diamond or something?”

  Okay, just go ahead and drive another nail through my heart, will ya? She didn’t wear her ring much because of her job. But I can’t imagine her selling it. She almost always kept it in a little velvet bag in her suitcase and wore a little feather shaped ring when she traveled instead. “It’s less flashy,” She used to say. She didn’t want anyone thinking she had an expensive ring back in the dressing room. I asked why she didn’t leave her real wedding ring back home in the house, in the safe. Her reason was always that she liked to have it close.