A Moment for Us

by Corinne Michaels

  “I’m not going to abandon you or the baby.” His voice is hard like granite.

  “I didn’t say you would. I’m just telling you that I make no demands.”

  He shakes his head. “You should. You should demand everything, Delia, because you deserve no less. I am just as responsible as you are, and while this wasn’t what either of us wanted, it’s not that child’s fault.”

  And my stupid, untrustworthy heart falls a little harder for him.

  He isn’t changing his mind on wanting to be with me, but at least, he’ll be there for the baby.

  “No, and I appreciate that. However, with our newfound circumstances, I think we should be smart.”

  “Okay, what does that mean?”

  “It means that whatever fun we were having, really and truly ends now. No more.”

  “Afraid of pregnancy?” he jokes, and I laugh a little.

  “Afraid of never moving on from you. I can’t raise a child with you and keep my heart out of it. So, we’re friends only from this point on.”

  Josh smirks. “I thought you already drew that line.”

  “I think we both know better.”

  When he stands and walks toward me, his eyes are soft and assessing. I do my best to conceal the myriad of emotions inside me. I’m angry that this is happening. Happy that I’ll be a mother. Sad that he doesn’t love me. Hopeful that we can at least raise this child with love. And disappointed because it’ll never be together.

  “I understand.”

  “I just need . . . I need a chance at a future with love and family. I know you’re not the man who wants that. I would never ask that of you.”

  His eyes close, telling me this is the case. “I wish I was different.”

  “Me too, but then you wouldn’t be you. The thing is I want what’s best for our child. If you want to be involved, that’s great, but it can’t be half measures. The baby deserves all of our love and commitment.”

  “As much as this wasn’t what I wanted, I would never do that. I’ll be here for you and the baby. There’s no half anything, and I don’t need time to know what the right thing is. I would never abandon my child.”

  “I never thought you would.”

  Josh has always put family above all else, and I never truly thought he’d do anything different when it comes to this.

  He nods. “Good.”

  “So, now what?” I ask, feeling lost.

  “Now we figure the rest out.”

  Figuring the rest out apparently means a knock on the door at six a.m. so he can start on renovations of my place.

  “Do you know what time it is?” I ask.

  “Yes, time to get the floors done and take care of any other repairs you need done.”

  “What I need . . . is sleep.”

  He grins, holding out a cup of coffee from the shop down the road. “I can’t do that, but I can caffeinate you.” I go to grab it, but then he pulls it back. “Wait, can you have this?”

  “Do you want that hand?”

  “Yes, but is it okay for the baby?”

  I snatch it out of his grasp. “It’s necessary for me so, therefore, it’s fine.” Once I’ve taken a few sips, I open the door a little more to let Josh in. “But, yes, the doctor said I could have coffee, just in moderation. Believe me, I asked.”

  “Good.”

  He grabs his tool bag and walks over to the living room, which is where they decided they wanted to start.

  “Why did this have to start today?” I ask.

  Josh shrugs. “I want everything done for you before the baby comes.”

  “That’s sweet, but we have a lot of time. I’m barely pregnant.”

  “And you have a lot that needs to be fixed.”

  I look around the house, feeling a little defensive. “I just want the floors done.”

  “And I want to fix the bathroom sink that’s leaking, the backsplash in the kitchen should be replaced, and I think we can refinish the cabinets in the kitchen.”

  I lift my hand. “Stop it. I don’t need all that. I like my house.”

  “I do too.” He nods in agreement, then adds, “Grayson said those were some of the things you wanted done.”

  I blink a few times. “Yes, as in one of those . . . if I had an unlimited budget, then I’d do them all, but I don’t.”

  He grins. “Well, you have free labor, and between my brothers and me, we have all the connections to keep your costs down. So, let’s say you were going to pay five grand for the floors, now you’ll pay a thousand. Your dreams just got bigger.”

  While this is amazing, I feel uncomfortable. “I don’t want charity.”

  “I didn’t say it was charity.”

  “So, I have to pay you?” I ask.

  The look in his eyes tells me he doesn’t find that humorous. “I would never take your money.”

  “Because I’m pregnant with your kid?”

  “No, because you’re my friend.”

  I take a sip of the coffee and let my head settle. He’s being nice. Nice at six in the morning, but still, he’s here and doing something I want done. “I just . . .”

  He takes a few steps toward me. “It’s not because of the baby. I mean, it is partly, but we were going to help with the renovations before that.”

  “Josh, there’s so much uncertainty. Seriously, I don’t feel comfortable with this.”

  “Uncertainty with what?”

  “I’m really early in this pregnancy. In fact, we probably shouldn’t even tell people yet.”

  “Why not?” Josh asks.

  “Because sometimes, in the beginning, the pregnancy doesn’t always stick.”

  “We’re not going to lose the baby,” he says as though he can demand it to be true. “Plus, you need the repairs done anyway, so what’s the harm in starting?”

  “None, but we don’t have to start right now. There is time.”

  “Time slips away, sometimes faster than we think.” His brow furrows, and he quickly turns, stopping me from trying to decipher his meaning. “I need to do this. I need to do something, and . . .” His eyes meet mine as he turns back. “I want to do this.”

  I really want to ask him why it’s so important, but instead, I nod. “Okay.”

  Josh comes close, kisses the side of my head, and then walks off, leaving me stunned and confused. How does this man scramble my brain so easily?

  He grabs a prybar, flips it before catching it, and walks over to the edge of the floor. The muscles in his arms contract as he leans down, and I feel the heat burning through my cheeks.

  Damn he’s hot when he’s looking all manly with tools.

  Get a grip, Delia. You are not going to cross that line ever again.

  Yeah, I don’t even believe my own lies.

  Well, standing here is a bad idea if he’s going to flex and start ripping things up, getting hot and sweaty and . . . nope. Not going there.

  “I have to get ready for work,” I say quickly.

  “Okay. I’ll be here.”

  Here in my house. Fun.

  I head off into my bedroom to get ready for the day. Work starts in two hours, and there’s no reason to go back to bed for twenty minutes. I turn my music on, not wanting to hear the sounds of my floor being torn up, and step in the shower. I put the fact that I’m naked while Josh is in my house far from my mind.

  It doesn’t matter that I want him. That I always seem to want him. We’re not doing anything sexual again. So, who cares that, as I wash my hair, I imagine it’s his fingers sifting through my blonde locks? Or about the way the pads of my fingers move against my scalp as I picture him in here, naked, touching me.

  It’s me who imagines that he is here, watching, directing me as I rub the soap down my body and across my breasts.

  With my eyes closed, I can hear his voice, calling my name, the way it’s deep and muffled because his lips are against my neck.

  The heat, steam, and increased hormones are making me crazy. I want him
so badly. I want to feel him, taste him, let him touch me everywhere.

  I hate that I’m this weak when it comes to Josh.

  My hand moves lower, and I wish it were his rough fingers touching my clit. I moan, rubbing circles. “Yes, yes,” I say with my hand on the wall. I’m so turned on, and I need to release.

  I let out a heavy sigh, listening to bass pumping through my speakers, echoing off the walls.

  “Jesus fucking Christ.”

  I squeal, my hands flying to try to cover up whatever bits I can. “Josh! Turn around!”

  He does, his head shaking back and forth. “You’re trying to kill me.”

  “No, I’m trying to shower!” I turn the water off and grab the towel as shampoo drips down my cheek. “What are you doing in here?”

  “I knocked twice, called your name, and I heard you say yes.”

  Oh, kill me. Please. “What do you want?”

  Josh faces me, his eyes are full of lust. “You.”

  The word is like a bullet to my chest, and each breath is a struggle.

  He continues to speak, his voice husky. “You have no idea how much I want you. How watching you like that, touching yourself, wondering if it was me you imagined, makes me ache.”

  I don’t have to imagine because I can see his erection. “We shouldn’t . . .”

  Shouldn’t say these things.

  Shouldn’t feel this way.

  Shouldn’t want each other.

  But what we should and shouldn’t do doesn’t make it easier to stop.

  “No, we probably shouldn’t.” He moves closer. “You should tell me to get out, slam the door, and fucking lock it. You should hate me because I can’t be the man you need.”

  My heart slams against my chest as he takes another step. “I don’t hate you. That’s the problem.”

  His hand lifts, pushing the suds away from my cheek. “Tell me to go, Delia. Tell me because I’m not strong enough to go without you pushing me.”

  I open my mouth to say the words, to stand by the convictions I had not even twenty-four hours ago when I put my foot down that I couldn’t do this.

  But he’s here.

  He’s here, and God, I want to feel his hands on me. He’s here, and he’s looking at me like I prayed he would for years.

  Strong enough? I’m the one who isn’t strong enough.

  The lie slips from my lips as I reach up, taking his face in my hands. “Just this once . . .”

  “Yes, just this once.”

  And then he kisses me, and we find a whole new way to shower.

  Chapter 15

  Joshua

  “Earth to Joshua!” Stella says as she waves her hand in front of my face.

  “Huh?”

  She rolls her eyes. “What’s your vote on the changes?”

  I have no idea what changes she’s talking about because I can’t pay attention to anything. All I keep thinking about is Delia and that we’re going to have a baby.

  Secrets are things we don’t keep, and it’s killing me not to tell them.

  “I’m with the majority,” I say, and Stella claps her hands.

  “Okay, that’s all.”

  Grayson gets up, gripping my shoulder. “I need to get back to Jess, she wasn’t feeling great this morning, and the doctor said it could be any day now.”

  Alex is next. “I am going to have lunch with Mom in case any of you would like to join.”

  Oliver, Stella, and I put our fingers to our nose. “Not it.”

  Alex flips us off. “Chicken shits.”

  “Give her a kiss for me,” Ollie says with a shit-eating grin.

  As glad as I am not to be going, I’m now stuck with the twins. Stella and Oliver are great. I love them, but when they’re together, they’re a goddamn nightmare. Stella is all too observant, and Oliver is a shit stirrer.

  If they key into my mood, I’m screwed.

  “All right, I’m going to head home,” I say, and Stella grabs my wrist.

  “Stay.”

  “Why?”

  “Humor me, big brother.”

  I let out a long sigh, and then sit again. “What’s up?”

  “Why don’t you tell me, Josh. You’re not like your normal self.”

  Oliver laughs. “Right, he’s usually more opinionated than anyone wants him to be. Today, he’s all broody and quiet.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Stella shakes her head. “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

  Some days I wish my sister weren’t so smart. “I appreciate your concern, but I promise, it’s nothing.”

  She looks to Oliver and jerks her head to the side.

  “What?” he says, his voice going high. “Why do I have to leave?”

  “Because you’re a pain in the ass, and I want to talk to Josh without you.”

  “So, you don’t want me here?” Oliver asks.

  “Clearly not if I’m telling you to leave.”

  He huffs but gets up and heads toward the door.

  “I know, Josh,” Stella says as soon as he’s out of earshot.

  “You know, what?”

  She gives me a soft smile and then loops her arm in mine. “About Delia.”

  I jerk my head back, knowing Delia hasn’t told anyone, not even Jessica. She was clear that she wanted to wait a few weeks and be sure there weren’t any complications, and I don’t think anything has changed about that in the last three days.

  “I don’t know what you know, Stella.”

  “That she’s pregnant. She took the test when we were all at the spa, and . . . well, I took the fall for her when Jess found the test in the garbage. I played it off that it was me and then said it was a false positive and the doctor said I was not pregnant.”

  “Does that happen?” I ask, wondering if maybe there’s a glimmer of a chance we’re not really pregnant.

  “Yes, but if she told you about it, we’re going to assume Delia went to the doctor. Blood tests don’t lie.”

  Right. Delia did tell me that she had it confirmed by her doctor.

  “So, you know.”

  Stella’s smile is more like a thin line. “How are you?”

  “Confused,” I admit. “I don’t really know. It’s been four days, and I’m still in a haze.”

  “I remember what that feels like,” my sister confesses. “When I found out I was pregnant, I really couldn’t process much. It was like someone had taken everything from me while also giving me a gift. Then, well, then it was completely different from what you two will go through.”

  I don’t know that I’ll ever forgive my parents for what they did to Stella. Forcing her to give up her child like that is unthinkable. She should have known that we all would’ve been there for her, helped however we could’ve. Sure, I was living in New Orleans, but that wouldn’t have stopped me from doing whatever I could’ve for my sister.

  “You never should’ve had to deal with that.”

  “We’re not talking about me.” She elbows me and gives me a real smile this time. “I’m just telling you that Jack and I understand what you and Delia are going through. If you want to talk to us, we’re here.”

  “What do I even say?” I ask, the question meaning a hundred different things.

  Stella, in her infinite wisdom, laughs once before speaking. “About what part?”

  “I don’t want kids.”

  Saying it aloud makes me feel like shit. I hate that I feel that way, but there are many reasons for it. I’ve seen how hard it is, and I’ve had the worst role models.

  I don’t want to be anything like my father. I don’t want my kids to grow up feeling like we did—pawns.

  Stella grips my arm, resting her head on my shoulder as we walk. “You have always been the brother who never made sense to me.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nods. “You were the best big brother. You always were more like my dad than anything. I didn’t worry when you were home because you made sure that things were good.
I remember when I got pregnant with Kinsley and was so afraid you’d be upset with me. Jack was worried about Grayson, but me? It was you I feared disappointing.”

  “You would’ve never disappointed me, Stella.”

  “I know that now. I’m just saying that you, of all of us, should be a dad. You’ll be a great one.”

  She doesn’t know that. “What if I fail him or her?”

  Stella’s eyes widen. “How would you fail them?”

  “I don’t know. There are a hundred things that can go wrong. I’m not good at this. I’m not like Grayson who altered everything in his life for Amelia. I’m not like you, who gave your daughter up so she could have the best life possible. Even now, you’re sacrificing to make the best decisions for her.”

  The words don’t make sense to her, she doesn’t understand me. None of my siblings do. I’ve spent the better part of twelve years being closed off and alone. In New Orleans, no one pried into things or asked why I didn’t want love. It was easy to come up here for short visits where I could pretend.

  But now I’m here, and my siblings don’t abide by boundaries.

  What worries me more is that I want to tell them the truth, but I’m not ready yet.

  “Josh”—Stella squeezes my arm and steps back—“you are that man. Fear is normal when it comes to being a parent. I don’t know that it ever goes away either. I spent every day of the last twelve years worrying and wondering about Kinsley. I would go back and forth about what the right decision was and talk myself in circles. We make mistakes as parents. We stumble along the way, and I think that’s just life. What matters is your intentions.” Stella rests her palm on my cheek. “And you, my dumb, amazing, and closed-off brother, have no malice in your heart.”

  Said heart would be slamming against my chest so hard it would bruise if it were actually still in my damn chest. If it hadn’t drowned twelve years ago when I failed someone I loved.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” I say to a very unhappy Delia at six in the morning. I learned my lesson last time and brought two coffees.

  “It’s my day off.”

  “Then you can go back to sleep.”

  She gives me a very hostile stare. “No, no I can’t. Do you know why?”