Perfect Grump: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Snow, Nicole

  You couldn’t have told me that before I quit my job, dumped the love of my life, and moved to Florida?

  Fuck it. Another shot.

  “To be clear, I’ve had the infamous sex tape for weeks, ever since she sent it over,” he continues slowly. “I’m the one who told Miss Seraphina the file was corrupted. Somehow, I had a feeling you might prove yourself worthy of more than a personal humiliation. I also held off as a personal courtesy to your dearest grandmother and—why are you coughing?”

  “Nothing,” I force out, my tequila breath on fire. “Thanks, Osprey. I guess.”

  “Without The Chicago Tea focusing on you, no one else will. That’s reason enough to scuttle your exile plans and continue living like a normal human being. This is your second chance, Brandt. Don’t fuck it up,” he growls.

  The call disconnects.

  Just in time. I’ve heard enough.

  Too bad my phone isn’t done flaying me alive. Another text pings.

  Nick, can we talk? I won’t tell your brother or Reese. I promise.

  Nope. Sorry, Paige.

  Dipshit, would you man up? I gave Reese a week off a few days ago. She told Paige she can’t sleep, and the way she drove that morning, I believe it.

  Ward again. I frown.

  I did “man up.” Osprey just decided not to have my balls mounted on the wall...for now.

  Two legal offices call. They need information to wrap up my drug charge.

  Yeah, maybe when I sleep off this rotgut tequila.

  Swiping my arms across the table, I knock the shot glasses to the floor and get back to work on an album I’ve unpacked.

  Page by page, I tear out pictures of Carmen from when we were growing up, crumple them up, and whip them at the trashcan.

  Deeper into the book, I turn the page and smile.

  There’s a picture of Reese in skintight green leggings, an ugly Christmas sweater—like anything could be truly ugly on her—and a goofy green-and-red-striped hat with a white ball at the end.

  She was the elf at last year’s company Christmas party. I asked her to take a picture with me. She agreed, but left a gaping space between us, crossed her arms, and smiled like a captive.

  Things didn’t have to be awkward and cold between us.

  They weren’t until I took her to that stupid gala.

  Some things don’t change.

  It’s no one else’s fault our relationship is over now. I hurt her enough, and I walked away before I could do it again.

  I flip a few pages and stop on recent pictures of us together, the ones I just added late one night a couple weeks ago.

  We’re happy and smiling. Her head is on my chest. My arm around her tells her she’s mine.

  In one pic, I’m holding the camera at a weird angle to steal a kiss. We’re in front of the Chicago sunrise after we spent the night talking on my balcony.

  There are some pictures of Millie between us and a few more with just Millie and me. One of my favorite pictures is Reese kissing Millie on the forehead while she sleeps.

  That shit makes my heart ache, knowing what I walked away from—the one woman I thought I could start a family with.

  Another life, maybe. One where I didn’t waste years of my life with my head up my ass.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  I glance at the TV. It isn’t on. I must be imagining the noise. No one knows I’m here.

  But the knocking comes again, this time louder.

  “Nicholas Brandt, if I have to replace a hip after throwing this door down, I will tan your hide. I know you’re in there.”

  I must have passed out.

  At least this dream promises to be entertaining, and since I don’t want my dream-grandma to break her hip, I stumble to the door and fling it open.

  “Took you long enough!” She scrunches her nose, a silver-haired whirlwind blowing into my condo. “My, this place smells like the backside of a wet bar.”

  “There’s only one bottle of tequila in the place and I’m only halfway through—”

  No dream.

  She grabs my earlobe, tugging my head down, and sails forward, leading me to the couch like a puppy. This woman is a ninja pretending to be Chicago’s most talented badass.

  “What did I tell you when I gave you your first company phone?” she demands.

  “Huh? That was a long time ago and yeah, I’ve had a few drinks, but nothing too excessi—ow!”

  She jerks on my ear again.

  “Never ignore my calls. Especially when you’ve had me worried sick about you, dear boy. You can ignore anyone else, but you don’t ignore your grandmother.” She finally releases my ear and smiles like the portrait of grandmotherly sweetness.

  “Yes, ma’am. Message received. Also, you’re wasting your breath if you’re here to try to talk me into changing my mind,” I say, rubbing my ear.

  “I’m not here to talk you into anything. I’m simply here to inform you that your resignation isn’t accepted.” She folds her arms.

  “How did you know where to find me?” I ask with a sigh.

  She rolls her eyes. “Do you have to ask? There were only so many places you’d go, and you’re a creature of habit. Back to the point, you’re far too young to retire and ride off into a sunset of booze and debauchery—”

  “I don’t know. That seems to be my specialty,” I tell her.

  She narrows her eyes and lifts her brows.

  “Joking,” I grumble, holding my hands up.

  “You’re a different man now. Actually, you’re a man now. Period. All the trouble you found getting here won’t satisfy you anymore,” she muses, her eyes glowing like an oracle.

  “Why are you really here?”

  “If you won’t fix your career, I can’t make you. You’re an adult and I’m not technically part of the company anymore.” She sighs. “However, there’s a bigger loose end you can’t leave undone. You need to go home and take care of it, or we’re going to have problems, dear.”

  Loose end? What the fuck does she mean?

  “If you’re talking about Roland Osprey and his slime machine—or Carmen and her mess—I’m not interested.” I pause. “Grandma, I know you’ve kept Osprey from running stories about me. You need to stay out of it now. I’m a grown man. You can’t fight my battles, and even Osprey called and said there isn’t anything left to fight over.”

  Tapping her foot, frustration hisses out of her.

  “Grandma?” I take a step forward, unsure what her problem is.

  “I’m talking about Reese Halle, you adorable doofus.” Grandma looks at me and swallows before she stabs me between the eyes. “She’s pregnant.”

  What.

  Pregnant?

  Now?

  Mine?

  Shit!

  “She’s—what?” I mutter, instantly winded.

  “You heard me the first time.” She narrows her eyes. “She’s pregnant, and whoever the father is, he’s no longer in her life.”

  Holy fuck. Pregnant?

  I reach for the wall so I don’t fall on my face. No, it’s not the tequila. My world just flipped upside down.

  “Why...why did she tell you and not me?” I grind out, trying to screw my head back on.

  Grandma doesn’t say anything. She leans back against the couch, holding my gaze.

  “Well, now that we’ve confirmed the obvious—”

  “Grandma...I didn’t know. I can’t believe she told you before me,” I sputter.

  “She didn’t tell me, dear. Paige did.”

  My heart jolts for the tenth time.

  “She told Paige? Does Ward know, too? Everyone knows except me?”

  I have to fight the urge to strip off my shirt and go flying out the back door until I plunge headfirst into the ocean. It’s the only thing that might stop my mental circuits from catching fire.

  “Paige asked her, and after the way you apparently stormed off during your last encounter...Paige came to us because she didn’t know what els
e to do.”

  “Why would Paige randomly ask her if she’s pregnant?” I swallow. This doesn’t make sense.

  Grandma rolls her eyes and makes a clucking sound with her tongue.

  “You’re such a gentle bear, but a bear nonetheless. She was nauseous at Paige’s house a couple weeks ago. She also bought a pregnancy test, but tried to hide it. Paige didn’t ask until Reese threw up driving Ward to work one day. She almost caused a wreck. He had to send her home on medical leave.”

  Holy fuck.

  The last time I saw her, she drove me to the office. Didn’t she warn me she had news?

  I never asked what, because it wouldn’t change what I decided to do, and the longer I talked with her only made it harder. Then I left her a smoldering ruin after a break up speech that still has my guts hanging out.

  Goddamn. What have I done?

  I’m stiff, numb with shock. If Paige or Ward came to deliver the news, I wouldn’t believe it.

  There’s effectively zero chance Grandma’s playing.

  Ward mentioned having to give Reese time off in his text. All the clues were there, and I missed every single damn one of them.

  I pull a hand through my hair, wishing it could reach through my skullcap and shove some sense into my head.

  “She tried to tell me,” I say. “I didn’t stop long enough to listen—”

  “Because you’re still worried with what other people think of you, and you assumed she cares what others think of her,” Grandma throws back.

  “It was more than that. Reese and Millie left my place right before the cops showed up. If she’d stayed a minute longer, the kid could’ve wound up in a mess, and it would’ve been my fault.”

  “But she wasn’t there a minute earlier, Nicholas. Facts matter. And even if she had been, you would’ve worked yourself to the bone making sure we got that child home. You know it as well as I do.”

  Damn, she’s good. Still...

  “That doesn’t make it better, Grandma. I almost put Reese and Millie through the unthinkable. How is Reese, anyway?”

  “Heartbroken. Any woman would be. She’s pregnant with her first baby, and she thinks the man she loves wants nothing to do with her.” The way she stares, piercing through me, drives it home.

  “I—damn. There’s nothing I want more than Reese happy, living the life she deserves.”

  “So make it happen, dear,” Grandma says pointedly. “There’s only one person in the way.”

  I shake my head.

  “She doesn’t deserve to be tied down to a man with a revolving gossip mill. And the kid...Christ. What kind of life is that, having me as a father?”

  My gut twists. I’m assaulted by how impossible it seems to ever undo my own warped upbringing, let alone the mistakes I’ve made.

  “What she needs right now is a strong man to step up and care for her and that beautiful baby. I can’t think of anyone stronger than a man born into chaos who spent half his lifetime sifting through those jagged pieces and putting himself back together. And frankly, I don’t think you’re anywhere near done finishing the puzzle. This is your moment. Shine.”

  I don’t know what to say, but she’s so right it clubs me over the head.

  Was I ever happier than when I had Reese and Millie around? And we always knew Millie would leave us.

  This is our child.

  Our chance to make a family just as fucking magical.

  The image forming in my head puts a rock in my throat.

  Reese, holding our baby, curled up with her head on my chest. I cradle them so hard I could break, tighter than I’ve ever held onto anything else.

  Could I give her that? Could I give our kid a life? Could I give myself peace?

  Maybe this was always the answer. I look at Grandma again, her eyes flickering with this faith in me I’m struggling like hell to comprehend.

  Maybe she’s right about everything. Maybe family’s always been the glue I need to hold it all together.

  “Don’t look so shocked. You had to know this was a possibility,” she says impatiently.

  Yeah, and Reese did too.

  We were done with condoms almost from the start.

  My gut aches. How many times did I tell her we were in it together after the best sex of my life?

  Sure, it was about Abby then, but we both knew together meant more than just her sister’s mess.

  I made her a promise, and then I left her to deal with the wreckage on her own. Even when I thought I did the right thing, I walked away like a chickenshit coward.

  Of all the many mistakes I’ve made, this is the worst.

  “I knew it was a possibility. I just didn’t—” I stop. Didn’t what? Didn’t think eighth grade biology applied to me? I have no excuses.

  And when a woman I was sleeping with told me she had news, I should have fucking asked what it was.

  “Didn’t expect it?” Grandma asks, raising an eyebrow.

  I nod.

  “I don’t think she expected it either.”

  “She didn’t?” I ask.

  What does that mean? Is she upset about it? Does she not want this? Reese is so good with Millie though. I don’t think it’s that, so does she not want this with me?

  Grandma laughs. “I’m sure it’s a shock for her too.”

  “Is she upset about the baby?”

  “Not that I know of, but Paige spilled the beans because she was that concerned.”

  “Paige tried calling me twice a day for the last week,” I say, falling to the sofa and trying to breathe.

  “I know. That’s why I’m here. But also, I didn’t fly to the beach just to give you a lecture. I came here to have dinner with my grandson. In the meantime, I have a poker game to catch up on while you sort out that head of yours—preferably without any advice from Dr. Tequila. I’m going to go see my girls, and I’ll be a whole lot richer when I see you after sundown.” She stands and walks to the door, flicking a warning gaze over her shoulder. “Be showered and sobered up by then, young man.”

  “Will do.” I crack a messy smile.

  She walks out the door as I pull out my phone. My mission now is to get back to the love of my life and our unborn child ASAP.

  I need to be on the first flight to Chicago, even if it means begging Grandma to drive my rental back to the airport.

  I search page after page of flights and can’t find anything before tomorrow. That’s too long. If I don’t find a commercial flight soon, I’ll charter a jet. After sifting through way too many flights and not finding one, I call Ward.

  “Now you have time to talk to me,” he growls into the phone.

  “Not even a hello, bro?”

  “After days of ignoring my messages, you’re lucky I don’t climb through this phone and kick your ass. Where are you?”

  “Florida. I need to get home.”

  “So, why are you on the phone telling me about it instead of on a plane?” he snaps.

  “I’m trying,” I bite off. “Just tell me this, is Reese pissed at me?”

  He chuckles. “She hasn’t said anything to me. That’s a better question for Paige. In my opinion, you might be okay. She’s more easygoing than Paige. My wife didn’t speak to me for weeks when I shat the bed with her, but then again...that wasn’t quite as serious as your predicament.”

  I snort. “I’m not sure your wife thinks hearing you say she’s ‘the last person in the world you could ever marry’ is less serious.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ll never leave her pregnant and alone to find out.”

  Shit. I hate that he’s right.

  “She didn’t tell me,” I say, knowing full well it’s my fault.

  “Does it matter? Bigger question is, what are you going to do about it, brother?”

  “Fly back to Chicago and convince her she still wants me. That’s why I called. You chartered a plane a few times from that husband of Paige’s friend, Mag Heron, right? I’m hoping I can get back quicker that way. If not, I’ll re
nt a car and drive all night.”

  “Don’t drive. I’ll pull some strings and see what I can do. That way you’re guaranteed to get here tomorrow. I’ll text you a number. I can’t promise he’ll have a last-minute flight, and he’ll probably charge you for sending it to Florida to pick you up...but there’s a chance.”

  “Thanks, Ward. I owe you.” I end the call and text Grandma.

  I promise her a dinner date back in Chicago and ask her to grab my rental.

  I’m so excited to have a great-grandchild, I’ll help you any way I can, dear, she sends.

  Nick: Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.

  Grandma: You’re welcome. Do not mess this up. I need plenty of baby time.

  I smile. If I have my way, childcare won’t be an issue for Reese this time.

  By the time I’m packed, Heron’s aide calls. We work out a price, I’m on the hook for an exorbitant sum to fly fifteen hundred miles, and Grandma is on her way over.

  The weight of this chance feels oppressive, but I’m determined to win her back.

  I’m about to fight my way to our forever or die.

  29

  The Tantalizing Truth (Reese)

  I can do this.

  I can be a single mom, take care of the kid, and the bills, and I might stop doubting myself if I could just get that stupid jerk-jerkface out of my head for five whole seconds.

  I’m finishing up my morning ritual over the toilet, glugging half my weight in water, when my phone goes off with an unknown number.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “Hello, hello from Area 51. How’re you holding up, sis?” Abby has never sounded better in her life.

  “Holy crap. I didn’t think you’d actually call me. Please tell me this number isn’t traceable,” I say.

  Sure, I’m glad as hell to hear from her, but not if it risks blowing her very expensive Federally provided cover.

  “Burner phone,” she explains. “The FBI guy who set us up said I shouldn’t be stupid, and I shouldn’t do it, but I was adamant about talking to my only sister while she’s heartbroken and pregnant. Guess what I chose. He helped me set it up last night.”

  “Oh, thank God,” I whisper. “So how are you?”