Their Secret

by Cassandra Dee

  “Give me a sec,” she said in a low voice. “I’ll be right back.”

  And balancing Skylar and his huge baby bag, she disappeared into my bedroom for a moment. But then the brunette reappeared with a baby monitor in hand.

  “He’s fine,” she whispered, not meeting my eyes. “Come on.”

  And hips swaying, the girl strode into the kitchen. Like a puppet on a string, I followed blindly, mesmerized by that sweet form. Because she was everything I’d left behind, and even more. My curvy, innocent teen had become a mama, and Sara was a thousand times more beautiful now.

  But still, she had no idea how much I admired her, she was completely in the dark. And as the brunette lowered herself into a chair, tiredness seeped from that gesture, causing a dagger of pain to lance through my heart again. Fuck. I done that. I’d done that to my best female.

  I straddled the chair across from her and crossed my arms across the back of it. Might as well be upfront, we already had a child to show for our efforts.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked in a low voice. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  The brunette looked away, eyes gazing at nothing really.

  “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know where you were, Mason. How could I tell you if there was no way to reach you?”

  I nodded.

  “There are ways. You could have gone to the local Navy recruitment center. They would have been able to track me down.”

  Her head snapped to look at me then, expression incredulous.

  “Are you kidding Mason? After the way you left me? I’ll have you remember that you booted me out of your apartment like I was radioactive waste that last time. Like you couldn’t stand to see me anymore,” she added, her voice breaking. “Like I was nothing but garbage.”

  My heart wrenched.

  “But still, you were pregnant,” my voice came, deep and urgent. “Even if you felt bad, there were ways.”

  This time those caramel eyes flashed.

  “I don’t care,” she spat. “I wasn’t about to humiliate myself further by going after a man who didn’t want me. And telling him about an unwanted baby? Yeah, right.”

  That made my hackles raise, although my voice stayed preternaturally calm.

  “Who said I didn’t want the baby?”

  Her chin snapped back in my direction.

  “Mason,” she spoke, voice tight. “This was never a real relationship. You told me that. You’re the one who made clear from the get-go that we were casual only. Pump and dump, remember? That’s the way you roll, and I was just another girl.”

  Those words made my heart break again, but I shouldered ahead, determined.

  “Shit, even if you thought that, a baby is different,” I growled. “It’s a different situation.”

  Her eyes flashed then, temper rising.

  “How would I know?” she said in a low controlled voice. “All I knew was that you kicked me to the curb, making it one hundred percent clear that we were done. And then you disappeared, vanished into thin air. You know how I found out you were in Afghanistan, Mason? You know how I figured that out?”

  I took a deep breath.

  “You talked to one of my buddies,” came the growl. “Or you talked to the bartender at Killian’s, he knew my deets.”

  Sara shook her head violently, those brown curls flying.

  “No Mason,” she said, her voice low, tight with pain. “I found out I was pregnant, and I was so terrified and desperate that I looked up one of the hooches you slept with, and asked her. Some skinny blonde chick you banged a couple years ago. She was the one who told me, she was the one who took pity on me and gave me your deets. And you know what? It broke my heart to have to ask her!” Sara began screaming now, filled with rage and pain. “I had to ask one of your past fucks to find out where you were, and IT BROKE MY HEART!”

  At that, the girl began sobbing, bending her head and leaning over the table, face in hands. My big frame was paralyzed, chest tight. Because if I’d felt bad before, then it was ten times worse now. I’d forced my best girl to go out and talk with some disgusting whore, begging for details about me. Who does that? What kind of fucking asshole does that to the woman he loves?

  Heart in my throat, my big hand reached out to gather her to me but Sara immediately shook my hand off her shoulder, instead jerking her head up and glaring with big brown eyes.

  “Don’t touch me,” she hissed. “You don’t get to touch me after everything that’s happened.”

  That made me growl because I’m going to touch wherever I damn well please, and that meant all over this curvy figure. But fine, I could give her some peace for now.

  “Calm, baby girl,” I directed. “Calm, hush.”

  She turned furious eyes to me.

  “Don’t you tell me when to hush, don’t you tell me what to do,” she raged, spitting like a cat on a hot tin roof. “That’s not your place.”

  I backed off, big hands held up in a truce.

  “It’s true,” I said in as soothing of a voice as I could manage. “That’s true. I’ve been gone and everything went haywire while I was away. But I’m back now and I’m gonna make everything right,” I growled, emotion stirring my soul. “Everything’s gonna be fine now that I’m back.”

  But Sara wasn’t done yet, fury and confusion mixing on her face, and those brown eyes flashed.

  “Oh really, how? What are you going to do Mason? Are you going to marry me? Are you going to name me your next of kin? Put me into your will?” she asked sarcastically, tiny fists gripping the tablecloth.

  Come to think of it, that didn’t sound bad at all. In fact, it sounded exactly right, and I was willing to do all of those things and more. So I rolled with it.

  “Would you?” I rumbled deep. “Would you marry me Sara?”

  But the brunette was too stressed and couldn’t process the question. She merely shot me a look of fury before turning away.

  “No absolutely not,” she snapped. “If you haven’t noticed,” she said sarcastically. “We’re way past that. The train’s left the station, Mason, and you’re five hundred miles behind.”

  Okay, that was true, but give a guy a chance. I held up my hands again.

  “I’ve been away, but I want to do right by you,” I said seriously this time, seizing her eyes. “I’m gonna do right by you and Skylar.”

  But Sara was done with this conversation, and instead of snapping back at me with a sharp retort, the female looked away again, staring blindly out the window.

  “You mean like how you’ve done right by us so far? Like what you’ve done so far?”

  And the limp lifelessness in those words killed me. Because it was easier to manage a high-strung, panicky woman than this. At least then, there was someone to fight with, to love and soothe, to spar with and pacify. But now, there was nothing, just a dense silence, so thick that my heart began to pump with worry. Aw fuck, she wasn’t giving up, was she? I hoped to god that my best female was still in the game, that the brunette wasn’t tossing in the cards.

  Because without her, I wasn’t sure we’d survive. We could go our separate ways, yeah, but to be a family, I needed her. She was part of the story, and without that sweet form, things just wouldn’t work. So I grabbed a tiny fist in mine.

  “Listen,” I ground out roughly. “Things have been tough for you, I know that. I know that we didn’t part on good terms, that I was a whole lotta asshole, and you didn’t deserve what happened. But baby girl, I’m gonna make things right,” I swore again, blue eyes blazing. “I promise.”

  But Sara was only half-listening, her hand limp in my fist. She took a deep breath, those curvy boobs rising, and then exhaled once more, still not meeting my eyes.

  “Okay,” she said tonelessly. “Okay Mason.”

  And the words killed me. Because it was clear Sara was just trying to end the conversation, she didn’t really want to work things out. And my heart began leaping with panic, beating like a fuckin
g drum, almost bursting from my chest. Because what would I do if I didn’t have her? What would I become, what did I have? A bunch of hooches on my trail? Memories of fucking Afghanistan? More tours where I patrolled the desert, thinking only of Sara? Holy shit. My life was on the line, my whole existence in peril … and I was terrified that we’d reached the end already.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sara

  The conversation with Mason broke my heart, left me absolutely devastated. But that’s what happens when you have no options. Because where was there to turn? I was a single mom who’d been ditched by the man who got me pregnant. He wasn’t my boyfriend, he wasn’t even someone I was dating. He was just a hook-up and had made that totally clear from the get-go.

  So what did I have? Sure, Mason made promises after seeing Skylar. The alpha was like a warrior prince, sweeping the baby in his arms, determined to protect. But where did that leave me? I was an extra, an appendage, who unfortunately, was attached to his child. Mason didn’t want me, he just wanted his son. So my heart broke again and again at his apartment, unable to find a way out.

  And I now, I feel like a blind woman in a maze. My hands feel around at the walls as I wander, turning corners, desperately trying to escape. But the thing is that there’s no escape. This situation is so complicated and hopeless that there are no good answers, no clear rights. There’s only real life, and unfortunately, no happy endings for me.

  So taking a deep breath, I got out of the cab, gently balancing Skylar in my arms. Despite everything that’s happened, my baby is the saving grace in all this. Even if his dad doesn’t want me, even if we’ll never be a real family, Skylar is the one good thing from this ordeal.

  I gazed at the baby’s sleeping face, peaceful as an angel, his lashes so long. And a sense of wonder broke over my heart all over again, tears coming to my eyes. Because this baby is what I live for now, and no matter what happens, I’m going to make sure that he has a good life. Bending over, I kissed that tiny brow, my heart clenching with a rush of emotion, my love fierce and deep.

  But real life always invades. Draping his baby bag over my shoulder, I started up the path to my mom’s house.

  “Sara?” came my mom’s voice as she opened the screen door. Phoebe was still in her work clothes, looking worn out and tired. “Where were you, honey? Mrs. Williams said she heard you arguing with a man earlier today.”

  Oh god, Mrs. Williams. Trust the busybody to be up to no good.

  “I was just talking with a friend,” I fibbed lightly.

  But I could tell by the look on my mom’s face that she didn't believe me. No shocker there, although Phoebe didn’t say anything at first, merely holding the door open so that I could get into the house.

  And dropping my stuff into the bedroom, I sighed heavily, feeling more and more like a burden. Phoebe has been so kind, taking us in, but it’s not a permanent solution. My mom could barely make ends meet with her job at the local grocery store, and her budget was tight. With me not working, and two new mouths to feed, I knew we were behind on bills already. I looked down, ashamed. God, how had this happened? What did I do to deserve this? At the very least, my mom deserved better.

  But there’s only one thing to do when life beats you down, and that’s to get back into the saddle. So after tucking Skylar into his crib, I marched myself to the bathroom and splashed cold water onto my face. With a jolt, I jerked, staring into the mirror. Who was that girl? Who was that girl with the big brown eyes that looked so sad and lost? I smiled at myself hesitantly, but my reflection didn’t look any happier.

  Taking a deep breath, I walked into the living room, ready to talk. It had to happen at some point, and as I dropped onto the couch, Phoebe turned off the television.

  “What’s going on, sweetheart?” She’d changed out of her uniform and showered, short hair damp at the edges, the housecoat she wore smelling faintly musty. “Is everything okay?”

  Biting my lip, I sat on the couch beside her and smiled when she offered me one of the shortbread cookies from her plate. Carefully, I considered my answer.

  “Things aren't any better or worse than when I came back home,” I said. The non-answer made my mom smile sadly. Phoebe knows me better than most, and she could sense the words underneath trying to make their way out.

  “Then tell me what's going on,” she invited, settling back onto the couch. “Mrs. Williams nearly sprinted over here to tell me you had a man here.”

  We both smiled at the image of little old Mrs. Williams running. She liked to shuffle around on her walker, pretending to be one step from death’s door most days. But whenever there was any good gossip, the walker was forgotten, the old lady running like a gazelle.

  So I took a deep breath.

  “I did get a visitor today,” I said carefully. “A man came and Mrs. Williams heard us arguing.

  “She must not have seen him, otherwise she would have given me a police sketch.”

  I laughed and nearly choked on my cookie.

  “Ma!” I giggled, unable to help myself. “I kept him out of sight, don’t worry.”

  “That’s probably for the best,” said Phoebe wryly. “Esther would probably shake her fist at him, and then once nobody else was looking, invite him over to tea to get all the details of your relationship.”

  Uck. The word “relationship” made me gulp, and I was silent, staring down at the cookie. But Mom interrupted gently.

  “Was the visitor Skylar's father?”

  What could I say? There was no point in lying.

  “Yes,” I took a deep breath. “Yes it was.”

  “Do you want to tell me about it?”

  No, of course not. No mother should know how I let some hot and hung Navy SEAL screw me in a dirty alley outside of a bar. No mother should know how her daughter was literally fucked in the ass, and then tossed aside like yesterday’s junk.

  So I fibbed and gave her the G-rated version: Hot man. Inexperienced college girl. Bad life decisions. It was more like a rom-com from a movie, rather than the down and dirty truth, painful and horrendous.

  Taking another deep breath, I went on.

  “And now he's back in town and wants to be part of Skylar's life,” I finished lightly, smiling although my face felt frozen. “What do you think I should do?”

  We had already devoured the plate of cookies, and Phoebe traced her finger along the edge of the plate thoughtfully.

  “Obviously, that's a decision you have to make for yourself,” she began slowly. “You can't allow him to tell you what to do with your baby, or with your life.”

  “I know.” I nodded, my head heavy. “I know that.”

  But then Phoebe sat up straighter, her faded blue eyes direct.

  “But what do you want, honey? Or more accurately, what do you think is best for you and your child? Because remember sweetie, it’s not just you anymore. It’s Skylar too, and he’s first priority in all of this.”

  Suddenly, the silence in the room was deafening, clanging in my ears. It was true, Skylar was my number one now, and it wasn’t just about how I felt about Mason, or what he felt about me. What mattered was our son, and taking a deep breath, I exhaled slowly.

  “I think—,” came my hesitant voice. “I think that it’s best for Skylar to know his father,” I began slowly. “Mason didn’t know that I was pregnant when he left for Afghanistan. That was an honest mistake. But still, he treated me like shit, and that’s not okay,” I said with more conviction.

  Phoebe nodded.

  “It’s never okay to treat a woman badly,” she affirmed. “I’ve taught you better than that.”

  I nodded, feeling more brave.

  “I know Mom, but I guess I was young and naïve, and thought I could handle a hook-up. Clearly, I couldn’t,” I added with a wry half-smile, “But there’s still the fact that Skylar’s dad is back now and wants to be a part of his life. Can I ignore that? Should I ignore it?”

  Phoebe looked at me speculatively again.<
br />
  “Well, it sounds like you two didn’t get off to the most stable start,” she conceded, “if it was just a one-night thing. But what do you get if you keep Skylar from him? And what’s this man’s name by the way?”

  I swallowed.

  “Mason,” said my lips, forming the word like a prayer. “Mason.” Oh god, why did I have this reaction, even now? Barreling ahead, I rushed out the words.

  “I don’t think anything good comes from isolating Skylar. It’s not the right thing to do, not when his dad desperately wants to see him. Not when Mason’s committed to doing the right thing by his son, even if he doesn’t care about me.”

  Phoebe looked at me gently.

  “And what’s the right thing for Skylar, that’s so wrong for you?”

  I took a deep breath.

  “Well, Mason thinks we should get married,” I admitted slowly. “He thinks we should be a family, you know, mom, dad and baby sleeping in a cradle. It’s crazy, I can’t even consider it.”

  But Phoebe gazed at me quizzically then.

  “Why? Or is it because you were just a hook-up?”

  “It’s that,” I protested, “and it’s the way he hung me out to dry. He was so mean, Mom,” I confided, cheeks red. “I’ve left out the worst parts of the story, but he was so awful and nasty, I can’t even describe.”

  Phoebe nodded and sighed.

  “I know how you feel, but did you ever think that Mason was protecting you?”

  I snorted.

  “Protecting me, how?”

  “Well the life of a SEAL is tough honey. Shipped off to the far corners of the world on a week’s notice. Leaving your wife and child stateside, without an end date. The harsh conditions of their deployments. The risk of death and disease. Maybe he didn’t want you to get involved in all that.”

  I shook my head furiously.

  “No that’s not it,” I stated. “I can make those decisions on my own, I can choose what I want and what I can tolerate.”

  Phoebe tilted her head to the side.

  “You know that, but does he? Honey, you were eighteen years old, a naïve school girl, totally in love with a SEAL. Maybe he saw all that and wanted to spare you the pain. He’s how old?”