by Taryn Quinn
Part of me wanted to shriek, “hold it!” and there was another part of me that wanted just that. To have someone to talk to about the baby, along with all the things that could go wrong. Maybe he’d be able to calm me down.
To not be alone.
To be connected to someone.
I ached to tell him all that, but there was a crash downstairs, which had Dare taking the stairs two at a time. I trailed him into the room by a few seconds and couldn’t stop the laugh when I saw the island counter scattered in flour and a half spilled carton of milk. The eggs had miraculously made it without incident, but the mixing bowl had not.
It was spinning on the tiled floor, flour pouring out.
Wes stood on a chair with a mixing spoon in his hand. The other half of the flour that hadn’t been sprinkled all over the butcher block counter was dotted on his shirt, face, and in his hair. “I dropped it.”
Dare had shoved his hands into his own hair in frustration, so I took over.
This I knew how to handle.
I rushed forward and took the half ripped flour package from its precarious position on the edge of the counter and scooped up most of the flour into the bowl. “Started without us, huh?”
Wes’s chin was down, his shoulders scrunched up as if he was bracing himself for a scolding.
“It’s okay. We can make this work.” I scraped the excess flour into the bowl and dumped it into the trash. “How about we measure it out this time? Where are your measuring cups?”
“I can get them.” Wes scrambled down off the chair and across the kitchen to a drawer. He came back with bright green nested measuring cups. “Here, Kelsey.”
“Do you have a recipe?”
“No, Dad just knows how to do it.”
I looked up at Dare. “Well, come on, Dad, show us how it’s done.”
Dare glanced between us with a rueful grin. “Amateurs.” He grabbed an orange apron off the hook near the fridge. “I guess I could use two helpers today.”
“I’m a very good helper,” Wes said with a big smile.
“Yeah, you are, buddy.” Dare looked over his head at me and mouthed, “Thank you.”
Just maybe this would work.
First, we’d handle pancakes, and then we’d tackle marriage and having a baby.
No sweat.
Eighteen
I paced the hallway outside the small room the courthouse used as a dressing room. The door opened and I whirled around.
“What are you doing here?” Sage whispered in an exasperated tone. She maneuvered herself through the door and kept bobbing and weaving to block me. “You can’t see her.”
I feigned left and almost got around her. “I just need to talk to her for a second.”
She pushed me back, leading with her belly. I jumped back with a growl. “Um, that’s a no can do. You can’t talk to her or see her until the wedding.”
“Who said?”
Sage blinked at me. “Stuff and people. And wedding things. I don’t know, but it’s bad luck and that’s all you need to know, buddy.”
I wiped my palm down the leg of my suit pants. “Do you want a chair or something?” Sage was about a second away from popping, for God’s sake. Should she be walking around so much?
“Stop looking so nervous. Besides, this is your future, pal.” She patted her belly. “It’s natural, I swear. Minus an extra pint of Ben and Jerry’s or two.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know.” I held up my hands. “Not about the ice cream part.”
“Another thing you better get used to. Maybe not ice cream, but something will strike her fancy and require a midnight trip to the all-night supermarket in Laurel.”
I could barely remember what Katherine had craved other than beer. She told me that one every day. Also that me and the baby stopped her from living. That being with me was about as fun as watching paint dry. I had to drive three states away the week before she was due to haul her back home.
We’d been fighting the whole pregnancy and she’d taken to disappearing so she wouldn’t have to listen to me ask about sonograms and doctor’s appointments. In fact, I’d actually had to beg her to marry me. The minute I’d asked, I’d known it was a mistake.
A week after we got married, I’d spun out and hit the wall. Not only was she pissed about carrying my kid, but now she was married to a race car driver with no car and no team. Luckily, I hadn’t been hurt, but the car was beyond repair. I’d just started making a name for myself in the circuit, but not enough for a major endorsement yet.
My career had been over before I’d been more than an up and comer.
Another strike against me.
Another reason for Katherine to hate me. From almost famous to a mechanic in the time it took to get through half of her pregnancy. Part of me wished she hadn’t taken me up on the offer, then I wouldn’t be so damn anxious about it a second time around.
Then it would be Kelsey who took my name the one and only time.
I fisted my hands.
I hadn’t seen Kelsey in two days and I was going fucking crazy.
She wouldn’t change her mind. She couldn’t.
“It’s bad enough you rushed her into doing this in less than a week. I had no time to prepare or even throw her a shower. I barely got her parents here. Who you’re supposed to be entertaining.” Sage straightened her dress over the beach ball she was carting around. The color was something between a fall leaf and a sunset.
I cleared my throat. “You look nice.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Man, you really are nervous.”
I frowned. “Why? Because I said you look nice?”
“Yes, you’re being polite. You men only start with charm and politeness when you’re all nervous.”
“We do not,” Oliver said as he came up behind me.
“Not you. Your default is polite. You make paper animals.”
“Oh, like this?” Oliver held his hand out, palm up where a little frog rested.
Sage sighed. “Yeah, like that.” She took it and tucked it in the little bouquet of flowers she was holding. “What do you have to be nervous about? You already married me. Your life is perfect.”
“Of course it is, love.” Oliver slid his arm around her waist. “Maybe you should be off your feet?”
Sage waved him off. “I’m fine. Just a little lower back pain. I’m not used to carrying so much in the front. Don’t give me that look.” She turned to me. “You need to get back in that little office and make sure the music is cued up. We’ve got a wedding to pull off.” Sage rubbed her belly. “Okay, kiddo, give mama a break.”
Oliver hovered. “What?”
“She’s just kicking up a storm.” Sage patted Oliver’s chest. “Relax, Dad. We’ve got some time still.”
The clomp of heels made the three of us turn.
“I found it. Coming through.” Cindy Ford was walk-running down the hallway. Kelsey’s mother was a shorter, rounder, slightly grayer version of her daughter.
The door opened again and a woman with dark hair ducked her head out. “What took you so long? Kels is walking grooves in this ugly carpet. Hurry up.”
“Coming. Make way.”
Mrs. Ford frowned at me. “You should be in the other room, Charles.”
My shoulders tightened and lifted up to my damn ears. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Charles?” Oliver and Sage parroted.
“Even my mother doesn’t call me Charles,” I muttered.
“I can’t call you a word that means trouble.”
I felt my cheeks flush. “Yes, Mrs. Ford.”
“And stop calling me that. It’s Cindy.” She stopped in front of me and smoothed my collar, inching my tie up tighter until I could barely breathe. “This may not be the way I wanted my daughter’s wedding day to go, but you’re about to be family.” She blinked rapidly and sniffed. “Now go back into that room with the judge and wait for my daughter. I have to give her something borrowed and blue.” She disappeared behin
d the door with Kelsey’s sister, Rylee.
I shook my head. None of them understood why I wanted to rush through the wedding. But between the school’s morality code that seemed to only count with the female teachers, and the constant murmurings in town, I just wanted everything to stop.
It wasn’t 1952 anymore, but I was pretty sure none of the matrons in this freaking town got the memo. While I didn’t give a damn about those conventions, I wanted to protect Kelsey from them. She didn’t deserve anyone’s judgment.
This wedding was just a formality, and a legally binding one. She was already mine—as was the baby, same DNA or not. All I could think about was making sure they were with me.
And safe.
I fingered the ring I’d managed to buy last night. Which I wanted to give her before the ceremony, but evidently, that would have to wait. August had the simple white gold bands I’d gotten for the ceremony, but something had niggled at me.
Enough that I’d driven like I was on a track to get to Laurel before the jewelry store closed. And had spent money I didn’t have, and now I was nervous to give it to her.
Christ, I was an asshole.
I nodded to Oliver. “Come on. Before the girls kill us.”
“Yes, go. We’ll be down in ten minutes.” Sage paused at the door. “Go. I’m fine.”
Oliver followed, but kept glancing over his shoulder at the closed door.
“She’s in good hands. If nothing else, Kelsey’s mother is a drill sergeant. She’ll have her sitting down with her feet up.”
Oliver gave me a tight smile. “I was beginning to think you were the Terminator, but you’re as nervous as the rest of us poor bastards on our wedding day.”
“I’m not having second thoughts.”
No, I was too worried that Kelsey was. I knew what I wanted, what I needed and it was her in my house and in my life. Period.
“Impressive. Even with a divorce in your rearview.”
I glanced up at him. “Good pep talk.”
“Sorry. I mean, this isn’t a shotgun wedding or anything, right? We don’t have to save you?”
“No. My idea.”
“Or is it the teacher we’re watching the back door for?”
“Shut up.”
Oliver grinned and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “If it makes you feel better, I think she’s into you. Kinda into you.”
The sing-song quality of his voice had me narrowing my eyes. “What are you, twelve?”
“More like Sage is going through a Harry Styles phase. I requested Beethoven for the IQ improvement component for the baby. She rejected my request. For the last month, that’s all I’ve heard.”
“So glad I have a boy. None of that boy band crap in my house.”
“Just you wait. Kelsey has been hanging out with Sage for the last two days.”
I shook my head as we turned into the doorway labeled Ford-Kramer wedding. My mother was sitting on one of the benches with Wes on her lap. Considering he never sat on anyone’s lap anymore, another layer of guilt threatened to put me on my ass.
Was I making a mistake rushing this along?
Wes had been unnaturally quiet for the last week as Kelsey’s boxes started arriving.
My mom looked up when I walked in and Wes wiggled down to run to me. “Daddy.”
I crouched and fixed his tie. “Being good for Gram?”
“I’m bored.”
“I know, buddy. The ceremony is going to start in a few minutes then we’ll go get some dinner.”
We’d made reservations at The Cove. The least I could do was make sure she had a nice dinner, even if we couldn’t pull off a full reception right now.
There hadn’t been time to save for a reception, or to pull anything together. Another mark in my bad bet column. But I’d make it up to her. I’d make it up to everyone.
August crossed the room to me. He was opening and snapping shut a small ring box over and over.
Wes pulled out of my hold and rushed to August. “Can I see the rings again?”
Aug flipped open the box.
“Can I hold them?”
“Gotta be careful with them. Leave them in the box, okay?” I smoothed down his little tie. The suit was a Kohl’s special. It would be in the donation pile in three months, but maybe we’d get Christmas out of it at least.
My mom was big on Christmas mass. Giving her a daughter-in-law who taught at a Catholic school wasn’t the worst thing I’d done in my life. Or another grandchild. My pop wasn’t so sure on the marrying Kelsey thing, but my mom was definitely from the do-the-right-thing camp.
So here I was again.
A non-traditional traditionalist. A little fun turned into a lifetime attachment one more time. Only this time, I wanted the girl as much as the baby. I still didn’t know how to handle that part, but I had time.
After today, all the time in the world.
Rylee came around the corner. She was dark to Kelsey’s light. Lush to her lean, and abrasive to Kelsey’s sweet babbling. “Okay, she’ll be on her way down in five minutes. Do we have the judge?” She scanned the room and her lips slid into a bombshell smile when Asher Hamilton stood up.
Our newest judge for the courthouse was definitely on the young side compared to the one who had been busting all our balls for as long as I could remember. Since Asher—who had some blue blood in him thanks to some distant relation to Seth and Oliver—had run unopposed, he’d been the youngest judge in the county to take over Crescent Cove’s post.
Rylee crossed the room and hooked her arm into Asher’s and led him to the front. “Thank you for making time for this crazy little shit-show.”
“Rylee Jane,” came a commanding voice.
“It’s not church.” She scrunched up her shoulders and shot a look over at her father.
“It’s a courthouse. Show some respect.”
Rylee glanced up at Asher. “Did you feel disrespected?”
“We don’t generally like cuss words in court, Miss Ford.”
Rylee gave an exaggerated shiver, patted his arm, and murmured something under her breath.
I rolled my eyes. She was definitely not like her sister. Then again, Kel had said plenty of off-color things to me over the last few months.
And yet somehow they sounded sweeter and more growl-inducing. Hell, it was pretty much how I ended up in this predicament. I hadn’t been looking for laughter and sex and a future, but I damn well had found it.
I moved to the front of the room where the judge stood. August followed me and we both pulled at our collars.
Wes raced over to stand between us, the ring box clutched in his hand.
Now I just had to hold onto what I’d found.
Nineteen
I worried my grandmother’s locket between my fingers as I paced the small dressing room.
“Would you stop, you’re making me nauseous.” Sage sighed from the couch we’d set her up on.
“Is it time yet?”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go out there and tell him you changed your mind?”
“No, Mom. I want to marry Dare.”
“Then why are you so anxious?”
“I just thought I’d have a little more time to get used to the idea, that’s all.”
I hadn’t even gotten to buy a wedding insert for my planner. The entire process had taken up one list page.
God, I was such a sap.
Then again, Principal Gentry had been practically delirious when I told her I couldn’t do the fall pageant this weekend because I was getting married. She tried not to ask questions about my pregnancy. Heck, no one would have known about it yet if Dare hadn’t blurted it out at Sage’s baby shower.
Then again, me screaming the baby might not be his didn’t help that one either.
All in all, the small town mentality had definitely been at work in moving the timeline for this marriage up from quick to warp speed. We’d picked out the rings at Kohl’s with Wes’s suit. So matter of fac
t and simple. Like we’d been picking out earrings, for God’s sake.
No jewelry store with gleaming glass cases full of sparkly jewels. Nope, just picking a band that came in both our sizes. Column C in the main case right under the religious crosses.
How was this my life?
“Honey, that school is good, but it is definitely behind the times. You could find another job.”
I stopped pacing. “I love my job.”
How could I tell my mom I wasn’t sure if my possible baby daddy was marrying me only for social propriety? As it was, there was a hint of disappointment living her eyes because I was pregnant. Oh, and the father might be one of two men.
I was officially a statistic.
I was supposed to be the good Ford sister. Considering my sister had skipped out of the room as if I’d given her a lottery ticket, I was pretty sure there had been a few conversations between my family I hadn’t been privy to.
So far, this was definitely not shaping up to be the wedding of my dreams.
But he is the man of your dreams.
That didn’t seem wholly logical either, but he was. I mean, he was a little—a lot—pushy and he was a bit of a steamroller personality-wise. I was learning more about that aspect of him since we’d agreed to do this crazy thing.
He and August had me packed up and moved into his house while I was working. I’d gone from independent for the first time in my life to a near wife and mother in under two months. Part of me wanted to push back and tell him to hold up, but a tiny piece of me was glad I had one less thing to stress about.
The fact that he’d replaced his own bed with the one he bought me was one of those little things that made up for the pushy barbarian he turned into. And why I was so conflicted.
Dare was all action and limited words.
All the things he had been doing were to make my life easier. So what if it wasn’t the most romantic thing in the world? A lot of women dealt with men who were far more careless and apt to trample on their feelings.
I listened to fellow teachers talk about their husbands every day.