One and a Half Regrets: A Sweet, New Adult Romance (Love by the Numbers Book 1)

by J. A. Coffey

I don’t answer. Can’t answer. Cadence yawns and rubs her eyes. I change her wet diaper and put her down for another nap.

  “I’m going to check on Ma.” It’s been several hours. I step outside to clear my head and call Cormack.

  “How’s it going?” I twist my fingers in a lock of my hair, where Cadence had slobbered a little.

  “Paige is feeling better. Ma is…okay. She tossed a lit cigarette butt into a trashcan filled with paper, instead of stubbing it out.”

  Feck. “I warned her about that! I can be down there in an hour or so, once Cadence wakes up,” I offer.

  All of my, Cormack’s, and Ma’s savings are tied up in getting the Rogue back on its feet. None of us can afford to let it go.

  “Don’t bother. I’ve got everything under control. I’m dropping Ma at her house on my way to have dinner with Paige and Lucy. Pat can handle things for the evening.”

  “So…you don’t need me?” I stifle a flare of panic.

  “Of course we need you, Beth.” Cormack laughs at my tone. “I told you before. Just not tonight.”

  “If you say so.” I nibble my bottom lip and say goodbye.

  Worried thoughts jumble in my head like spare musical notes as I go inside. Once the Rogue is functioning at full throttle, I might have more time to spend with Cadence. Or practice the violin. Or be in a relationship.

  Until then, everything hinges on keeping an eye on Ma.

  I’ve been too distracted by Liam of late. A distraction that’s bound to end any day now.

  My distraction nudges my shoulder with his. “Everything okay? You seem worried.”

  “Ma almost burnt down the pub again, but Cormack’s got everything under control.”

  “I can’t believe anyone in granola Seattle still smokes.” He shakes his head.

  “Me either. Cormack says it’s fine.” But it’s not.

  “Are you sure? If you need to go, I can stay here.”

  He’s offering a round of babysitting? Wow. I rock on my heels, considering, and realize there’s nowhere I’d rather be than here with him and Cadence.

  “I think they can handle things without me.” I head to the kitchen to put on some coffee.

  “Great.” Liam gives me a genuine smile that turns my heart inside out.

  I’d been planning to be at work, so there’s no protein in the house for dinner. Liam runs to the local store to grab a rotisserie chicken while I make a salad, and we spend the rest of the evening playing with Cadence and laughing at old photographs until our sides ache.

  He shakes his head, pushing the photos to the side. “I never realized how many good memories were tied up here.”

  “Understandable. Your father is…”

  “Awful.” He nods. “I know.”

  We’re quiet for a moment. “I should put Cadence to bed.”

  “Okay.” His eyes follow me down the hall. He’s still wearing a thoughtful expression when I return fifteen minutes later. I notice that he’s already tidied our mess from earlier. The photos are neatly stacked and the coffee cups are nowhere in sight.

  “Thanks for cleaning up.” I sit next to him on the couch.

  “No problem.” His gaze strays to the stack of photos. “Family never meant that much to me, Beth. Except you.”

  “I guess that’s part of why I couldn’t tell you,” I venture. “I was angry with how things ended and Cadence was just so good, but I didn’t think you’d love her or appreciate her.” Things have been so promising between us, I can’t help but hope.

  He covers my hands with his. The rough callouses on his fingers and palms are somehow soothing. “You should’ve given me a chance.”

  “I thought I was doing the right thing. For you. For me. For her.”

  “And now?” I can practically hear him holding his breath.

  “Now I know that I was wrong.”

  “Oh, Beth.” He gathers me into his arms, holding me just the way I’d imagined every morning and every evening of my life since he’d left. “Let me prove it to you. Let me be a part your lives.”

  “How?” I nuzzle the soft, worn cotton of his T-shirt collar. “How can you?”

  “I don’t know, I don’t know,” he mutters. His chin rests on the top of my head and his breath stirs my hair. “But we’ll figure out a way.”

  I snuggle closer, wanting desperately to believe him. “I missed you.”

  The past week had illustrated just how much. Made me ache for things I hadn’t had. Life with Liam, my family’s security, my own happiness.

  “Missed you more.” His warm hands slide up my ribs, tantalizingly close to my aching, heavy breasts. He coaxes away my fears as something raw and masculine lights his face. “I want a life with you and Cadence.” There’s so much desire burning in his eyes that I’m caught like a moth to a flame.

  Suddenly, the image of the three of us opens the floodgates to my heart. My body burns, aching to be touched by him. “What are you saying?”

  “You are so beautiful,” he croons. “I love you, Beth.”

  And then he’s kissing me. Not a gentle or surprised peck. An all-encompassing, passionate kind of kiss that make every doubt fall right out of my head. I know exactly what he’s saying. Liam and I are connected, by more than our pasts or our future with Cadence. We’re twin souls who’ve rediscovered each other, amidst the craziness and heartbreak. No matter what might come, I want his love—want him. Even if it’s just for now.

  We spend an hour kissing on the couch. He’s as passionately gentle with me as ever, until the moment he senses I need more from him. And then our desire is blinding. His hands slide up to cup my curves, while his mouth is hot and wet on my skin. I’m almost ready to explode. I’ve never felt anything as perfect or as right as being with him.

  “Liam,” I gasp. Longing strums through me, playing my body like a musician.

  It’s been a lifetime since I let anyone touch me. His fingers delve beneath my clothing, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. His body rocks against mine and I see stars behind my eyes.

  “Let me.” His whispered plea burns my soul.

  I nod and he unbuttons my shirt, achingly slow, punctuating every square inch of my skin with kisses until I’m on fire for him. Every brand on me is a promise that he’ll be there for me. Every sigh reinforces the hope that he will be.

  After a few stolen hours, I no longer care about what might happen in the future. All that matters is him and me and our rekindled love.

  The night sky is clear as I cut off the lights and we head into my bedroom, to seek comfort and more beneath the covers. Our passion lasts until the stars fade, burning the last traces of loneliness and hurt from my heart.

  Chapter Eight

  Liam

  Something isn’t right.

  I startle awake, lifting my head from the soft cloud of Beth’s hair fanned beneath my cheek. She’s breathing deeply, sleeping like the dead, with a light snore. But the sound of a baby’s whimper brings me fully conscious.

  Cadence.

  Beth sits up as I shift out from under the covers. “What was that?” She sounds groggy. “Did you hear something?”

  I’ve always been a light sleeper. Early morning was a favorite time for my father to prey on me. But tonight, someone else is in pain.

  “It’s the baby,” I whisper, slipping on my jeans and breathing slowly through my mouth so the pounding of my heart won’t drown away the sounds of rustling in the other room. “I think I heard her cry.”

  “I’ll check.” Beth bolts upright, dragging a shirt over a body that should never be hidden from me. She rushes out before I’ve stumbled past the pile of our clothing from last night.

  I follow behind her.

  Beth is cradling our wailing daughter. Fat tears leak down Cadence’s red, chubby cheeks, but she quiets once she sees me. “Is she okay?”

  “Can’t tell. She’s burning up. I knew she wasn’t feeling well.”
I can tell Beth’s regretting spending the day outside.

  I move to their side, afraid to be in the way, afraid to be too far away. I place a gentle hand on Cadence’s fuzzy head. She feels hot. “Poor sweetie.” The sick smell of baby poop hits my nostrils like a fist. “Whew. I think she needs changing.”

  Beth gives me a look. “Obviously.”

  She lays Cadence on the changing table, trying to calm her. I feel useless.

  “Can I do it?”

  Beth stares at me. “You want to change her diaper?”

  “Why not?” I try to pretend it’s no big deal, but in truth I’m a little panicked. I’ve only ever changed a wet diaper, but I’ve watched Beth do the messy ones before. How hard can it be? I want to contribute. “You can look for the thermometer.”

  “Okay.” She compresses her lips, but moves to the side.

  I can tell she’s fighting the instinct to tell me to get the heck out of her way. Something inside me thrills that she’s letting me in, but I hate that our daughter is suffering. Cadence is quiet as I carefully lay a fresh diaper under her and unsnap her onesie.

  Glorious. Diarrhea. Of all the times to try my hand at changing a number two.

  The room is dim, and I’m not familiar with where everything is, so I’m practically going by touch.

  Beth’s voice echoes from the direction of the bathroom. “Where the feck did I put the thermometer?”

  “Try a drawer?” I suggest. Holding my breath, I use half the box of baby wipes to clean Cadence’s angry red bottom, front to back, like Beth showed me, then I stuff the wadded mess into the diaper pail. “It’s okay, baby. Shhhh.” I try to calm her soft cries.

  “Yes! Found it!” Beth calls.

  Cadence is squirming, so I reposition the new diaper under her bottom and push the flaps of her onesie up her stomach to fasten the plastic tabs over her round little belly. Even in the darkened nursery, I can see something’s even more wrong than before.

  Her torso is covered in blotchy, red spots; she looks like she lost a battle with a magic marker. “Uh, Beth? Why is she all spotted?”

  “Spotted? What do you mean?” Beth flips on the overhead light and rushes into the nursery, a slim digital thermometer in hand. “Oh my God, it’s some kind of rash.” She gapes at the red spots.

  “Rash? Like chicken pox?” I peer at her.

  “I don’t think so.” Beth checks the rest of our daughter, but the spots seem to be confined to her torso. The baby looks so small and miserable. My stomach knots with worry.

  “Do they itch?” I step aside, not wanting to crowd whatever Beth wants to do.

  “Can’t tell. She doesn’t seem to be scratching.” Beth gently peers at our baby’s belly. I whip out my phone and we consult Dr. Google, with results that only confuse me more. Remind me never to look up ailments online.

  “Some of the blotches have a whitish ring around them. Ringworm, maybe? I don’t know. I need to check her fever.” She’s talking more to herself than to me.

  I can’t tell if I’m more unnerved that Beth is worried or that she doesn’t automatically know what’s wrong with our child. But why would she? She’s only been a mother for ten months.

  “Should we take her somewhere to…whoa! What are you doing?” I exclaim as Beth wipes our daughter’s bottom clean, then positions the thermometer.

  “It’s the most accurate reading,” she says, clearly exasperated.

  “Okay, okay…” I glance away as if the baby and Beth require privacy for something as straightforward as taking a temperature. “I just hate that she’s in pain and we have to—”

  “She won’t even feel this. It’s too small.”

  “Are you positive?” My heart is pounding like I’ve run a mile.

  Sure enough, Cadence just stares up at us, face flushed but alert. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. We count off the last few seconds, and then the digital display reads 103.

  “Holy crap.” I lean back. “That’s high, right?”

  “Yes.” Beth’s face is pinched with worry. “It’s high. Too high. What time is it?”

  “After midnight.”

  “Too late to call Cormack.” She bites her lip.

  “Call him for what?”

  “A ride to the hospital? I don’t know what else to do. She’s never had a fever like this and these spots look really bad. She could be really, really sick. I’m not waiting around until her pediatrician is open.”

  “No need. I’m here for you.” I put my arms around Beth, steadying her. “Take a deep breath. Put on some clothes. We’ll take care of our daughter together, okay?”

  “You can’t go. A trip to the ER can mean hours and hours. With the concert preparations and DeSilva nagging you about missing practice, you don’t have that kind of time.”

  “Whatever it takes, Beth.” I slip into the bedroom where we’d made love, send a quick text, and reappear with my shirt on and Chucks in hand. “Get dressed. I’ll watch Cadence and we can take her to the ER together.”

  “Okay.” She pauses at the bedroom door. “And…thanks Liam.”

  “For what?”

  “Being here.” There’s a weight to her words that makes my heart beat like a bass drum.

  I drive while Beth hovers in the back seat next to Cadence’s car seat, as if she can fight off anything that threatens her daughter. Rain pours down in sheets across the windshield, and traffic is backed up to hell. I don’t remember the side streets as well as I used to, but I’m pretty experienced with how to get to a hospital fast, thanks to my father. Still, I can tell that Beth is close to losing it, so I smile at her in the rear view mirror.

  “Don’t worry. She doesn’t seem uncomfortable,” I reassure her. “We’ll figure this out.”

  “What if it’s something serious?” Her eyes are anguished.

  “Then we’ll face it together.” He held her eyes. “You know you can count on me, right?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  “Right?” I insist.

  “Yes,” she whispers. After that, the tension in her face lessens and she’s able to nod and smile. “We’ll figure it out.”

  After a ten minute check-in and a three-hour delay in the waiting room, they usher us into a curtained off section. The ER doctor greets us with smooth efficiency, then checks Cadence, who doesn’t seem overly bothered by the stranger poking and prodding her.

  “How’s she been eating?” the doctor asks.

  “Okay. Not great the past week.” Beth tosses me a look. “I thought it might have been a change in her schedule.”

  The doctor scribbles something on her notepad. “Any contact with outsiders or other children?”

  “Well, she attends daycare,” Beth says. “At a private home. My brother’s, actually.”

  “Anyone there feeling ill?”

  “No,” Beth bites her lip. “Wait, we thought Paige had the flu a few days ago, but she’s completely fine.”

  “I see.” Another bout of a rectal thermometer, which I bravely manage not to look away from, and the doctor returns with a diagnosis. “Well, it doesn’t appear to be too serious, despite the fever spike. Most likely roseola.”

  “What’s that?” I ask. “Sounds bad.”

  “Just a viral infection. Looks much worse than it is. We’ll want to get her fever under control though.” The doctor rattles off dosage for an over-the-counter medication.

  “But…the rash. The fever. Are you sure it isn’t something else?” Beth asks.

  “As I said, it’s probably a virus. I’m hesitant to prescribe an antiviral for someone so young. Keep an eye on her for symptoms of strep, just in case, but she should be clear of this in about a week.”

  Beth gapes. “Are you sure there’s nothing more we can do?”

  The doctor gives us a look that says we should count our blessings.

  “She’s not in pain and she’s alert. If her symptoms worsen, tak
e her to her regular pediatrician, but otherwise it just has to run its course.” She stands up, patting Cadence’s hand. “Looks like the Tylenol is already working.”

  Our baby does look less flushed. Despite the speckled rash on her torso, she doesn’t seem to be in pain.

  “Just a virus.” Relief makes me feel like a wrung out dishrag. “Wow.”

  Suddenly I wonder how the hell Beth made it through ten months of this on her own.

  “Thank goodness. You gave us quite a scare, princess.” Beth gathers Cadence, while I set the car seat on the exam table. Her eyes hold mine and I see gratitude, relief and something more behind her steady gaze.

  The doctor whisks back the edge of the privacy curtain. “By the way, if you’re who I think you are, my teenaged sons are really looking forward to your concert tomorrow night.”

  “Thanks,” I mumble, not taking my eyes off Beth and my daughter.

  It scares the hell out of me that someone could be so important that without her I feel invisible. The fact that there are now two females who make me want a different life is unbelievable.

  More than that, they make me want to be a better man.

  I’d dropped Beth off early this morning, then drove in a zombie haze of exhaustion hoping to crash in my hotel bed for an hour before a morning appearance on Good Morning, Seattle.

  There’s loud voices coming from the living room of the suite. Sounds like Finn and Zane having “artistic differences,” although I distinctly hear Trish’s name come up, which is weird. The whole band’s been kinda off since Finn decided to pop the question. Between Finn trying to crowd Zane’s front man image, or Zane retreating to stony silence every time Trish comes around it’s like walking on eggshells these days.

  I’ve done enough of that in my lifetime to recognize things are gonna blow soon.

  “Why don’t you stay out of this?” yells Finn.

  “Because you’re acting like an ass.” Zane’s retort sounds from just outside the bathroom door.

  “Takes one to know one.” Finn’s faint reply filters through my aching head. So much for the bonds of brotherhood.

  As the penthouse shudders from a slammed door, I roll out of the hotel bedroom still wearing my jeans from yesterday and wishing I was at Beth’s house. Unfortunately, she’s watching Cadence or getting ready for work. I suppose I should be working, too.