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Who’s the Daddy

Page 13

by Taryn Quinn


  Until he opened his mouth again.

  “Just saying, she’s been busting her ass for you, Sage. Hope you’re ready to reciprocate.”

  No one laughed this time.

  I didn’t speak. I was residing in another dimension, where my only recourse was to become mute.

  Ally cleared her throat and discreetly stepped aside as Sage lurched to her feet and propped a hand on her hip. “I appreciate everything Kelsey has done. She’s my bestie with Ally. They’re both amazing.”

  At Dare’s huff of breath and another stroke of my hair, I decided I needed to take the bull by the horns.

  “Let’s do gifts! Look at all these pretty things everyone got for Sage’s little one.” I grabbed the nearest item, which—shocker—happened to be the same foam block monstrosity. I let it go, but not fast enough to prevent spillage yet again.

  No one cared because Sage was staring down Dare.

  “You’re needed inside.”

  He planted his feet. “Nope, I think I’m good right where I am, thanks.”

  The back door opened and Oliver stepped out, earning Sage’s groan. “Jeez louise, forget it. Who cares about baby shower protocol? Men and women, mingle freely! Just give me some damn cake before my water breaks.”

  Oliver hustled across the lawn. “Are you having contractions?”

  Sage gave me a beady-eyed look as if to say this is all your fault. And the worst of it was, it was my fault.

  All of it.

  From the mess with the foam blocks, to not being prepared to take names, to letting Dare just run rough-shod over my reproductive organs.

  “Just who do you think you are?” I demanded, turning away from Sage’s flushed cheeks to glare at the object of all my frustration.

  Dare and his ridiculously large dick had gotten me into this kettle. And he was making it even worse by being all broody and hot and acting as if he was my studly bodyguard.

  It was a baby shower, for God’s sake. Not a crime scene.

  At least not yet.

  “I think I’m involved in this situation, and I’m not about to let you push me out.”

  I frowned. What did that mean? The way his jaw locked made me wonder if this was the first time he’d felt as if he was being shut out of a…situation, as he’d put it.

  With Wes’s mom maybe? I didn’t know any of the story there.

  Not the time, Kelsey.

  Sage stepped forward, leaving a bewildered Oliver in the dust. “Situation, huh?”

  Sage and Ally exchanged a look.

  “Hey, guess what, everyone, change of plans. It’s too hot out here for the mom-to-be.” Ally shot me a loaded glance and quickly kept going. “Let’s move this party inside.”

  “Inside where?” Came Seth’s plaintive question. “You all aren’t allowed in the man-cave.”

  Ally rushed toward the back door. “Not now, Hamilton. Ladies, follow me.”

  Unfortunately, she wasn’t moving fast enough to prevent my mouth from detonating. Even as my lips opened, I knew I needed to shut the heck up and wait until the women dispersed.

  But with one look at Dare’s smug, self-satisfied expression, my panic and fear and frustration exploded.

  All over Dare.

  “You know what, Mr. Know It All? This baby may not even be yours!”

  Twelve

  The room fuzzed out of focus and I couldn’t hear for what seemed like forever. What did she just say?

  I took a step back, then another. Noise came rushing in and yet it was only birds and a distant speaker pumping out music.

  Pin drop moment in the flesh.

  Not mine.

  Not mine.

  Maybe not mine.

  The maybe part wouldn’t stick. Just the idea that someone else had been inside her within enough time to plant a baby inside of her was like a seizing motor in my brain.

  “Dare, I didn’t—”

  I held up my hand and turned to escape. No fucking way I could stand there in front of all those people and listen to her excuses. Not now.

  Maybe not ever.

  Not yours.

  Seth stood on the back stoop, but he didn’t say a word as I passed. His eyes averted to the floor.

  Blindly, I swung the door open and headed through the house, then out the front door and down the stairs to the sidewalk.

  Return the car. Go home.

  Go home where you should have been this whole fucking time.

  I didn’t even remember the ride home, or backing into the bay at J&T’s. It was all a haze. Hell, I didn’t even know if the car had made the damn squeak that my customer had complained about.

  The only thought in my fucking brain was Kelsey.

  I was tangled up over a woman again, though Kelsey sometimes seemed more like a sweet younger girl in so many ways.

  I’d fucked the holy hell out of her twice. But someone else had too.

  And I didn’t even know why that pissed me off so much. I wasn’t that guy. Judgmental like the people in this goddamn town? Nope. That wasn’t me. And yet, my fingers were welded to the steering wheel and I was still staring at the wall of tools sightlessly.

  I pounded the dash and got out. Anger sprang out of my pores like noxious gas. I needed to get rid of this before picking up my kid.

  How?

  Pound it out into Kelsey.

  No.

  No, that definitely wasn’t happening. Why I was in trouble in the first place. My dick didn’t know how to stay in my pants when I was near her. Even now, the thought of her long legs wrapped around me had me half hard.

  And the baby…

  The anger swelled in my head and chest. I grabbed the long crowbar and stalked to the back door of the garage and out into the back loading area where stacks of tires waited for recycling.

  I swung at the largest stack of truck tires. The satisfying bounce back emptied the noise out of my head. I slammed into the stack until the reverberations in my biceps and triceps left me tingling and numb. My hand burned and my wrist sang with each blow. Sweat coated my shoulders and arms.

  Finally, my hand gave way to the punishment and the crowbar clattered to the blacktop. I dropped to my knees and growled through heaving breaths until the spots dancing in my vision cleared.

  The golden setting sun off the water speared down the alleyway chased by shadows and the cloying scent of burnt rubber and oil. A steadying scent. My life was connected to this garage.

  Once upon a time, I’d wanted to own my own garage and pit crew, but now I liked being able to walk away each night. Sure, I had overtime coming out my ass lately, but it was because I asked for it. Because it helped me catch up when the cascade of shit came down on me from the fixer upper I’d bought when Wes was born.

  Wes, who had been my entire world for the last seven years. Even beyond Katherine and her endless unhappiness, there had always been one good thing in my life.

  And maybe part of me wanted more.

  You could have more.

  I shut my eyes against the thought and forced myself to stand. I went back inside and washed up at the large basin on the far wall of the garage. I checked my phone, swiping away the messages from Kelsey.

  I couldn’t go back there right now. The wild anger was too close to the fringes of my brain. Instead, I texted my mom to let her know I was on my way.

  Dinner with my kid. That was what I needed to focus on, not Kelsey Ford and her huge brown eyes.

  The horror in her expression when she’d shouted that the baby might not be mine was forever burned on my retinas. Horror that she had to have a man like me in her life forever? Or horror that it might not be mine?

  I didn’t know.

  Yeah, I didn’t have it in me for questions like that right now.

  I grabbed my denim shirt and shrugged it on before locking up. Main Street was quiet. The whole town rolled up on Sundays by dinner time. Shops either opened for only a few hours after church or not at all. Lights were still on in the cafe, but
the delivery truck wasn’t taking up the entire area anymore.

  I climbed into my truck. It was a quick drive to my parents’ house, but the last of the sun’s rays were disappearing into the brush when I drove up the gravel lane leading to the sunny yellow ranch with white shutters and trim.

  My pop painted it every three years so it always looked fresh. Maybe some of the trim was a little more worn these days, but my family made do with what we had. I’d learned that from my old man.

  The screen door slapped and the sound of pounding feet followed by the scrape of Sandy’s toenails as she scrabbled after my son brought me back to center. Wes hopped down off the last stair and came tearing at my truck. No coat on, of course. He got that from me—forever warm. But without the sun, the October chill quickly crept into the air.

  I stepped out of my truck just in time to catch Wes as he flung himself at me. He was getting a little too big to catch, but I was secretly glad he still was excited to see me. Working so much left my kid a little more sullen than I liked to admit some days.

  I hoisted him up on my hip. “Hey, bud.”

  “Dad, wait ’til you see what I did with Grampa today. It’s so cool.”

  “Oh, yeah?” The scent of burning leaves clung to his shirt. “Did you help in the yard today?”

  “Yeah! How’d you know?”

  “Good guess,” I murmured and gave Sandy an absent rub along her silky ears. The Golden Retriever leaned against my thigh, pinning me against the front quarter panel of my truck. “Hey, girl.” Soot clung to the fur around her eyes and mouth. “I’m guessing you guys did a little bit of leaf raking.”

  “Wow, you’re really good at guessing.” Wes wiggled to get down and he and Sandy ran around the house. He stopped and backtracked, peeking around the corner of the porch steps. “Come on!”

  I trudged after him. Hunger was gnawing a hole in my gut, but if my kid wanted to show me the bonfire my old man was probably creating, who was I to say no?

  Sure enough, Wes was running circles around the picnic table in the backyard. When he spotted me, Wes started jumping up and down. Jesus, the kid didn’t stop until his cheek hit the pillow at night. He ran back to me, dragging me toward the wide barrels at the edge of the yard. “C’mon, I want to show you.”

  The snap and pop of fire licking up into the sky evened me out just a little more.

  Normalcy.

  Fall in Laurel was in full swing. It was the next town over from Crescent Cove, with a decidedly more country feel than the small town I lived in now. Land went back for acres, but instead of rolling grass, it was full of brush and woods. A creek ran along the back of my parents’ property and a tire swing as old as I was hung from the massive oak that rained down a metric fuck-ton of leaves every year.

  And from the smell of things, a lot of them were ash already.

  “Pop.”

  “Hey, there you are. I thought you were only working a half day today?”

  I shrugged and glanced over to make sure Wes wasn’t too close to the hot metal bin. Eyes so much like mine were wide with little fires flickering in the pupils. Great, I’d have to add fire to my watch list for Wes. He was far too curious for his own good sometimes.

  I shoved my hands into my pockets. “I need to tell you something before you hear about it at the shop tomorrow.”

  “That sounds ominous.”

  I gave him a look then glanced down at Wes. “Hey, why don’t you go see if Gram will give you some cookies to take home?”

  His blue eyes got even wider. “Yes! We made chocolate chips.” He raced off, sneakers pounding up the porch stairs.

  “Now I’m worried.”

  I sighed. “Yeah, today took a bit of a hard left. I’m not really sure what to do about it. I’m still thinking on a lot of it, but…” I gripped the back of my neck. “Fuck.”

  “Not like you to go on without spitting it straight out.”

  “I know. It’s hard for me to say. I swore I’d never be so goddamn stupid again and here I am.” I met my father’s eyes. Again, so much like mine, only more weathered. They had deeper creases at the corners and his hair and beard were more white than blond these days.

  “Well, shit.”

  I winced. “That obvious?”

  “Last time you came at me with that look on your face, you told me I was going to be a granddad. Before that, it was that you rolled your car on the track. Pretty sure both of them cost the same in the end.”

  I huffed out a laugh. “Ain’t that the truth.”

  “Who’s the girl? Please don’t tell me it’s Jody.”

  “What? God, no.” I didn’t think I actually had a laugh in me, but the idea that I’d hook up with the ticket girl at my father’s pizza joint was laughable. “Is she even eighteen yet?”

  “Why the hell do you think I asked? She’s got huge hearts in her eyeballs for you, boy.”

  “God, really?”

  He shook his head. “So, who’s the girl?”

  “Teacher.” I cleared my throat. “Wes’s teacher.”

  “Miss Ford?” My dad blew out a startled breath. “Wow. When did that happen?”

  “You don’t really want a blow by blow, do you, Pop?”

  “I am partial to redheads.”

  I could feel my cheeks flush. Christ, my mother was a redhead. Well, she had been once upon a time. Now she was more of a salt and sand. “Let’s just say it was a weak moment.” More than one, but I really didn’t want to get into details, for fuck’s sake.

  He shoved his hands deeper into his Carhartt jacket. “I raised you to be careful.”

  “And we were. But hell…” How the hell did I tell him it might not even be my baby? I didn’t want my dad to think less of Kelsey. The whole damn town was probably talking about her already. “It’s between me and another guy.”

  At least I was pretty sure it was just one other guy. Even the little bit I knew about Kelsey led me to think that way.

  Maybe it was even the guy whose text I’d deleted. I still had to tell her I’d done that.

  Shit.

  Dad’s eyebrows shot up into the shade of his ball cap. “Well, then.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know the particulars. I just found out today and it’s a goddamn clusterfuck. But I didn’t want you to hear about it from your customers or whoever else is going to tear into her.” Jesus. Just the thought of everyone talking about her had the rage bubbling in my gut again.

  “This more than just a one and done thing, Dare?”

  “I don’t know, Pop. But if it’s mine, I’ll do right by her.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.” He widened his stance and his jaw was set. “Katherine did enough damage for five women.”

  “I know it.”

  “And now you have Wes to worry about.”

  “Pop, I know. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing yet. I gotta think on it.” A fucking lot. But if that kid was mine…

  Even a small chance was enough.

  “And the mother?”

  It was like he yanked the thought right out of my head. “I barely know her.”

  “Knew enough to—”

  “Pop.”

  “What? You’re the one doing the baby-making,” he grumbled.

  “When I know, you’ll know.”

  “I guess that’s good enough.” He pulled the brim of his Yankees hat down. “I need a goddamn cookie.”

  “I could use a cookie myself.”

  “Cookies all around then. Can’t wait to tell your Ma about this.”

  “Can I add a beer to that order?”

  My dad snorted. “Maybe we should go right to the whiskey.”

  “Might not be a bad idea.”

  * * *

  I shoved my earbud deeper into my ear to cut down on the grinding blade my boss had been using all morning. Jerome did some metal reconstruction work on the slow days in the shop, leaving me to do all the repairs.

  Fourth fucking oil change in an hour. One mor
e alignment and my day would be complete for a fucking bingo card.

  Normally, the monotony didn’t get to me all that much. Being a mechanic meant a lot of repetition. The days of putting together NASCAR motors—or taking apart—were past. I’d learned to live without that extra tang of sharper high velocity oil and gasoline mix that would never be a part of my life again. My little brother had taken over the reins there.

  Hell, he’d passed me by about a hundred laps at this point. And most days I didn’t miss it. I’d made my choices to come home and be a part of my kid’s life. Being a driver or on a pit crew was an endless series of races and getting ready for them.

  That wasn’t the life I wanted to give Wes.

  Part of the reason me and Katherine had fallen apart had been the sense of home I’d wanted for my family. It wasn’t nearly exciting enough for her—especially a small town like Crescent Cove.

  Unlike Kelsey.

  I growled along with Godsmack’s singer as I tried to loosen the rusty fucking nut on this oil pan. “Fucker,” I seethed as it didn’t budge. Frustration mounted as I changed out my socket wrench for a smaller size. I was at a shitty angle. When the nut stripped, my hand slipped and my knuckles scraped across a rough patch of metal on the undercarriage.

  “Fuck!”

  Blood gushed over my fingers and I rolled out.

  “Jesus, boy. You are coloring the air neon blue. Not like you.”

  I blew out a breath and wrapped my rag over the cut. “Sorry, Jerome.”

  He shook his head. “Go walk it off. And wash that out. I ain’t paying for you to go to the damn ER.”

  I nodded. It wouldn’t be so bad except it was the third day in a row that I lost out to some car part. I already had a butterfly bandage on the same hand.

  I dragged myself over to the sink and washed the blood away until it stung from soap and the pressure I put on the skin to get everything loose.

  The pain felt good.

  I was seriously getting fucked up about all this.

  I hadn’t slept in three days—at least no more than a few hours snatched in my recliner with Wes in my lap. He was just as out of sorts as I was. Nothing would soothe him. Not even online shopping for a Halloween costume and that always evened him out.

 

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