His Perfect BabyA Miracle Baby Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  I trust him, though. When Slick says he’ll do something, he does it. I’ve known him for a couple of years now, worked pretty closely with him on Luke’s case, and I never once saw him say one thing and do another. He’s exceedingly honest, almost to a fault.

  “Luke knows about you,” I say to him. “I was hoping that you won’t mention my name when he comes to talk to you.”

  Slick is silent for a second. “You’re still on that?”

  “I am,” I say. Slick doesn’t think I should keep my involvement from Luke, and he’s not shy about saying it.

  “Listen, I told you when we started, I respect your privacy above all else. You don’t want me to mention your name, I won’t.”

  “Thank you,” I say, feeling relieved.

  “But listen, Avery. I’ve been around these sort of things a long time. You can’t keep it from him.”

  “I know you’re probably right.”

  “He’ll react however he’ll react, but it’s better if it comes from you, and if it comes from you soon.”

  I sigh and rub my shoe against the patio stones. I’ve heard this lecture once before, and it’s not going to change my mind, although I think he’s probably right. Maybe I’m a coward, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” I say.

  “What does he want with me anyway?”

  “He’s doing his own investigation. He thinks you can help.”

  “Huh. He does, does he?”

  I hesitate a second. “I know you know something,” I say. “I know you’re keeping things from me.”

  He doesn’t respond.

  “Just, don’t let him get in trouble, okay?”

  “I’ll do what I can,” he says.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “I’d say take care, but I think I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

  “You might be right about that.”

  “Bye then.” He hangs up the phone.

  I slip my phone into my pocket and sigh. Max is climbing in the little jungle gym my parents put up for him. I watch him playing, and suddenly I get a flash of inspiration.

  I can see me and Luke, sitting outside of a house, watching Max just like this. We’re married and we’re happy, and we have nothing hiding between us. The truth is out, and it feels good.

  I stand up suddenly and head inside. “Mom?” I call out.

  “Yes?” my mom calls from upstairs.

  “Can you watch Max for a bit? I need to head out.”

  She comes down the stairs and looks at me over the bannister. “Where are you going?”

  “Target,” I say.

  “Okay. Just be quick.”

  “Sure. Thanks. He’s just out back.”

  She nods and comes down the steps. My mother is my height, very pale, with dark hair and lots of eye makeup. She’s holding a glass of gin, although she’ll try and pretend that it’s water.

  “Have fun, dear,” she says a little wistfully, heading out back.

  I grab my keys, get in my car, and drive. I’m not really thinking too clearly about this, but I’m going for it anyway.

  Slick’s right. I can’t keep lying to Luke. It’s not going to get me anything. He might react poorly or maybe he won’t, there’s no way of knowing without telling him. I have to get over my fears and just do something about it.

  I text him as I drive. “I’m coming to see you,” I say. “What’s your address?”

  He answers right away with the number. I know exactly where it is. He doesn’t ask me why and I don’t want to have to explain.

  I pull up outside of his place about ten minutes later. I get out, walk to his door, and knock. I’m nervous as hell and trying not to think about what I’m doing here. I’m just going to tell him the truth, let him know that I was the one who hired the PI to free him. Maybe he’ll flip out, angry that I didn’t tell him before, or maybe he’ll get angry that I did it at all. I don’t know how he’ll feel about it, and I’m afraid. I’m afraid of losing him again.

  I buzz his apartment number and I hear the entry door click. I push it open, follow the stairs up, and head to the corner of the building. Once at his door, I knock quickly, stomach churning with nerves.

  He answers the door. He’s wearing a gray sweatshirt and a pair of old, faded jeans. “Just showing up in the middle of the day now?” he asks, smirking.

  “I just wanted to talk.”

  “Good. Come in.”

  I follow him into his place. It’s small, a little dingy and cramped, but it’s not too bad. He doesn’t have much furniture, and nothing decorating the walls. Football’s on TV and an old laptop is open on the coffee table.

  “Nice place,” I say. “Looks like you got used to the whole prison thing.”

  He laughs. “What do you mean?”

  “There’s about as much charm in here as there is in a cell. Why don’t you buy a plant or something?”

  “I’d kill it.” He heads into the kitchen. “Want something?”

  “Water,” I say. “Thanks.”

  He pours me a water and opens a beer. He hands it to me and raises his drink. “Cheers.”

  “Cheers,” I say. I go to start talking, ready to blurt it all out, but he start talking first.

  “I learned something last night.”

  I pause. “What happened?”

  “I went to the Miller, you know that bar all the mill guys go to after shift?”

  “Sure,” I say. My father hates that place, calls it the rat-hole. My father always looks down on his employees, like working for him in his mill is the worst thing imaginable. I don’t know what that’s supposed to say about him.

  “Well, I went there, met some nice guys. Apparently I’m a celebrity.”

  “Not exactly,” I say.

  He walks over to the TV and sits down on the arm of the couch. I hover near the kitchen, arms crossed.

  “Yeah, well, they seemed to think so.”

  “What happened?” I ask. “You shouldn’t have been there.”

  “Why not?” he asks.

  “I don’t know. I just…” I trail off, shrugging. I don’t know why he should stay away. I just get a bad feeling, imagining him around my father’s people.

  “Well, I ended up asking about the man that bribed the night clerk. And they told me that the description matches a guy named Dominic.”

  The name rings a bell. “The security guy, right?”

  He nods. “That’s right. You didn’t think of him?”

  I shrug a little. “I mean, so many people work for my dad. I’ve never even met him, just saw a picture once.”

  “Well, he fits the description. Wrist tattoo included.”

  “That’s odd,” I say. “Why would he be involved?”

  Luke gives me a look but he doesn’t answer my question. “The guys got freaked when they said his name. Like it was dangerous or something.”

  “Dangerous?” I echo.

  “Right. It was weird. Really weird.”

  “Oh.”

  I don’t know what to say. My plan to tell him the truth is suddenly unraveling in front of me. I’m losing my nerve and I know it.

  He stands up suddenly. I meet his gaze and I see something there that surprises me even more.

  It looks like he’s burning. It’s hard to explain, but the old Luke used to get this look in his eyes, like his mind was on fire with ideas and excitement. He used to get that look a lot, especially talking about his plans for the future. We’d sit up and talk on the phone all night, sometimes just texting, sometimes sending pictures over Snapchat. But always he had that look when he was excited about something.

  He has it now, and frankly, I love it.

  It’s intoxicating. He’s clearly excited about this information, although it really worries me. But this look, it’s like the old Luke is back, right here, and we’re kids again, like nothing ever happened to tear him away. All the old hurt and fear and anger is suddenly sucked out of th
e room and it’s just the two of us, kids one more time.

  He walks up to me, getting closer. “I feel like I’m finally getting somewhere,” he says softly. “Ever since getting home, I haven’t felt like I belong here. Like people look at me strange.”

  “You belong here. This is your home.”

  “It was until everyone turned their backs on me.”

  I want to tell him that I never, ever turned my back on him, but I can’t.

  “It doesn’t matter, though,” he continues. “I’m out, and I’m going to make up for lost time. I’m not sitting around, waiting for things to happen. I’m taking what I want.”

  “What do you want?” I ask softly.

  He walks up to me, runs one hand through my hair the way he used to, pulls my body against his, and he kisses me.

  It surprises me at first. But as soon as I relax and lean into the kiss, it’s like coming home.

  This is what I’ve been dreaming about these last five years. Kissing Luke again is everything I wanted it to be, and actually so much more. All the weight of our history, all our failed plans and broken dreams, it all makes this so much more intense. I press tighter, needing every second, every taste.

  It’s Luke, it’s really him, and he kisses the same. It feels so good, so incredibly good, that for a second I totally forget why I’m here.

  But a second later, it all comes crashing back to me. I pull back from him, realizing what I’m supposed to be doing, and I freak a little bit.

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” he says.

  “No, it’s not that,” I say, shaking my head. “I wanted you to. God, I’ve been needing that, for years.”

  “I’ve been thinking about you every day, Avery. Your lips, your taste, all of it.” His eyes are so hard against me, but I can’t take it.

  “I have to go.” I turn and quickly leave his apartment, although it physically pains me to do it.

  I couldn’t tell him. And now I just ran away after he kissed me.

  What the hell is my problem? Why can’t I just let myself be happy?

  Maybe I don’t think I deserve it. Or maybe I don’t think I deserve Luke. I wanted that kiss so badly, and it felt so damn good, and yet it scared me. It made me freak out and run away, but I don’t want to run away. I can’t stop myself as I head back to my car, tears in my eyes. I didn’t even accomplish what I set out to do.

  I feel stupid and small and weak. I want to go back up there and explain to him why I just panicked, but I can’t make myself do it. I’m embarrassed, honestly. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

  There’s no playbook I can follow here. Our situation is about as unique as they get. I wish I could get some kind of guidance, but I know that I’m on my own. I want Luke so badly it hurts, but I’m afraid of having him.

  I drive back home, trying to keep the tears from spilling down.

  11

  Luke

  Kissing Avery was one of the best feelings I’ve had in a long fucking time. Watching her run away though, that was pretty goddamn rough.

  I don’t know what’s going on with her. I know how I feel, and I feel like I need her. She’s my best friend, the mother of my child, and although I haven’t spoken to her in five years, I still feel like she’s the only person that really knows me. Maybe she only knows the guy I used to be, and not the man that I’ve become, but still. That’s closer than anyone else in this world.

  I can’t imagine she actually wants to have something with me. I know I’m innocent of my crimes, but her family hates me. They’re probably the reason she didn’t talk to me. I can understand that, she had to do what was best for herself and for Max. I’m glad she played by their rules actually, because it meant that my son was raised in a comfortable household and given everything he needs.

  I would hate it if she risked that just for my sake. Max is more important than me, more important than her, and I’m happy she chose to sacrifice having anything with me in order to protect him.

  At least that’s what I’ve been assuming. But what if she just didn’t want to talk to a criminal, even an innocent one?

  The thought keeps nagging me as I drive across town, heading about forty minutes away. I keep seeing the look on Avery’s face as she pulled away from my kiss and left my apartment: pure shame and confusion.

  But despite that, every other time we’ve been near each other or spoken, I still feel it from her. I see the way she looks at me, her smiles, the way she leans toward me when I’m speaking. She looks at me the same way she used to, all those years ago, and I can’t help but think she still wants me.

  Too many layers, too many years, too much confusion. It’s distracting me from what I really need to be doing, which is finding the person responsible for the death of Lucinda Chavez. And by extension, I’ll find out who fucking framed me.

  I pull up a short gravel driveway and park outside of a small ranch home. It’s surrounded by woods, and really it’s in the middle of nowhere. It took me a while to even find it, backtracking and going in circles, but I’m finally here. It has to be the right place.

  I climb out of the truck and walk up to the door. There’s no number or anything, so I just knock and hope for the best.

  After a minute, a man answers. He peers out at me through the screen, a small frown on his face. He’s older, probably mid-sixties, but still in good shape. He’s grizzled, smells like smoke, has piercing, intense eyes, and the bearing of an ex-cop. I notice it right away.

  “Yeah?” he asks.

  “Sir, are you Jason Slick?”

  He sighs. “Come in.”

  I’m surprised when he pushes open the screen door. I follow him through his house toward the kitchen. His place is small and the smell of smoke increases as I head inside. The carpet is thick, brown, and stained in places. There are some pictures on the walls, but mostly the place is empty, except for a television, a couch, and a computer in the corner.

  We go into the kitchen and he nods at the table. “Take a seat.”

  I slowly sit down, not sure what to expect. “Sir, my name is Luke—“

  “I know who you are,” he cuts me off abruptly. He takes a cigarette out of a pack and lights it up on the gas stove. When he’s done, he crosses his arms and watches me for a second. “I was expecting you,” he says finally.

  “Ah, you were?” I ask him, totally thrown off.

  He nods. “You’re looking into your case. I figured it was only a matter of time.”

  “Why?”

  “What man in your position wouldn’t?” He shrugs, takes a drag. “I don’t know how much I can help you though, kid.”

  “As far as I know, you’re the only honest person working my case,” I say, learning toward him. “You’re the only person that knows anything at all.”

  “Could be.” He just watches me with that gaze. I can tell he’s done this before, or something like it. I realize suddenly how incredibly outmatched I am.

  “I have some questions for you, if you’d be willing to help. And I think I can help you, too.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Help me?”

  I nod. “I learned something about the case.”

  “I’m not working it anymore, kid.”

  I hesitate. “It’s not solved yet.”

  “I was hired to prove your innocence, not find out who actually did it.” He takes a deep drag again. “I did my job, and now I’m done.”

  “Who hired you?” I ask him directly.

  He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’m done with this, kid. I only invited you in out of courtesy.”

  “Toward whom?”

  “Toward you.” He watches me carefully. “I was a detective once. I ran into some hard times, did some things I’m not proud of, and had to leave the force. So I feel for men like you, men that get caught up in the system, chewed up and spit out.”

  I feel like he’s told this story a thousand times, too. “So then you should want to help me.”

  “
Only to a point.”

  “How did you find that hard drive?”

  “Got a tip.”

  “From whom?”

  “Can’t say.”

  “Why not?”

  He sighs. “Look kid, I can’t help you, okay?”

  “What do you know about Dominic? He’s a security guy for the Walker family, right?”

  He looks surprised at that, but he quickly gets himself under control. But that slip tells me a lot, and I suddenly have hope that I’m on the right track.

  “I think you should get going,” he says, standing up straight and stubbing his cigarette out on the countertop.

  I slowly stand up. “You can help me. I know you know something. The Walker family’s involved here somehow.”

  He starts walking toward me, and I head back out through the living room. I pass through the front door and he pauses there, looking at me as I walk down the front porch steps.

  “Be careful,” he says suddenly. “I don’t know if the Walkers are involved for sure. But they’re the kind of family with the resources and the connections to make your life very, very difficult.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “And if you change your mind, come find me. I’m not gonna stop.”

  I get a smile out of him. “All right, kid. Good luck.” He shuts the door and disappears back inside.

  I walk slowly back to my truck, get in, and start the engine. I sit there for a minute, digesting what just happened.

  I’m disappointed. I don’t know what I expected, but I hoped for more. He knows something, I’m sure about that, but I don’t know what. There was a moment of recognition when I said Dominic’s name, and that comment about the Walker family there at the end suggests he suspects them as well. Everything’s pointing toward them, but I don’t know why.

  I know they dislike me. Mainly because I’m a Harper, and the Harpers are a bad family, but also because they’re close with Avery’s family. The Walkers hate me because the Sellers hate me, and I can’t help but think it’s all mixed up somehow.

  He’s right, though. They do have the money and resources to make my life difficult.