Steady Rain [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

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Steady Rain [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Page 24

by Tymber Dalton


  Kyle’s angry tone pulled him up short. “What?”

  “I get it, all right? We’re going to be paying for an abortion, and you can’t wait to do it. Dammit, can you at least not fucking crack jokes about it?” He turned away from Tristan as he wiped at his face with his hand.

  “Whoa.” Tris caught his arm and made him turn and face him. As the doors slid open on the fourth floor, he had just enough time to spot the tears in Kyle’s eyes before he jerked free and shoved past him, heading down the hall.

  He was limping like a motherfucker, too.

  A wave of guilt swept through Tristan as he followed. Kyle found the room and it took him three tries to get the keycard to open the door. Once he did, he shoved it open and pushed through, not bothering to see if Tristan was behind him or not.

  Tris reached out and caught the door before it swung shut and stared at his guy for a long moment. “Some of us didn’t have great childhoods, you know.”

  “I get it.” Kyle dropped his bag by the dresser and found the TV remote. He settled in an upholstered reading chair with a matching hassock on the far side of the room and switched the TV on. Tristan watched him wince as he propped his right leg on the hassock.

  Tristan walked in and closed the door behind him. “Do you?”

  “Yeah, I do. I’ll keep my mouth shut and let you do all the talking. I don’t get an opinion because I had a ‘normal’ childhood.”

  Tristan sucked in a breath, mostly to keep him from saying something he’d regret and to buy him some time. He set his bag next to Kyle’s and walked around the beds to the far side of the second one, closest to Kyle, and sat on the edge.

  He forced himself to keep his voice low and gentle. “Of course you get an opinion. But tell me this—you were fine with marrying me. That meant no kids. How could you be okay with it then and not now? And when we talked to her that night her mom called her—you were all in for team no kids. What changed?”

  “That was different.”

  “How? Tell me.”

  Kyle glared at him before returning his attention to the TV. “We done? I’ll keep my mouth shut, don’t worry.”

  Tristan snagged the remote from him before Kyle could react and switched the TV off. “Please don’t be like that. Talk to me.”

  Kyle faced the window. Wasn’t much of a view, but Tristan didn’t miss how he’d also reached up and brushed at his eyes again. “Doesn’t matter.” His quiet tone screamed heartache and defeat.

  Fuck. “It’s her body. If she says she’s keeping it, then we’re raising our baby. I take care of my responsibilities. If she says she’s not keeping it, then we support her and do whatever we can do to take care of her, whatever she needs from us.”

  Kyle still wouldn’t look at him. “I’m not going to lie and say I don’t want this baby when I do.”

  Another deep breath, and the deliberate choice to keep his tone gentle. “I’m not asking you to lie.”

  “That’s all a baby is to you, isn’t it? A responsibility.” Bitterness had crept into Kyle’s tone, and it felt like watching a truck making a slow-motion slide toward the edge of a cliff and being helpless to stop it.

  “She has a new career. She’d finally started digging herself out of a financial hole. You know how happy she’s been doing this.”

  “That’s not answering the question.” Kyle finally turned toward Tristan. He wasn’t bothering to wipe away his tears any longer.

  “I consider a baby a responsibility, yeah. My family and hers are proof that just because most people can make a child doesn’t mean that they should.”

  “And mine are proof that not every parent is shitty. So’s Kel’s mom. Hell, Mark, Josh, Ted, and Essie are great parents! Fucking Landry! He’s the last guy I would have ever expected to be a great dad, and look at him!”

  Tristan reached for Kyle’s hand, but he jerked away and slumped against the far side of the chair.

  “All we’re doing right now is spinning our wheels,” Tris said. “None of this matters until she tells us what she wants to do. She probably doesn’t even know what she wants to do. She’s probably scared and maybe even angry. I don’t know. You don’t know. What I want to do is tell her we love her, tell her we’ll support her no matter what, and beyond that point, let her talk. Not you, not me—her. Is that not fair?”

  “And if she asks you what you want her to do?”

  Tristan rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. His gaze focused on the floor as he tried to figure out how not to make this worse with Kyle.

  He finally decided breaking his man’s heart wasn’t worth it. “I won’t tell her,” he quietly said. “I’ll steer it back to her.”

  “That’s the same as lying.”

  “No, it’s not. I can’t lose you. This isn’t how I saw our future playing out.”

  “You’d resent a baby.”

  Another breath to buy him time. Kyle was hurting, trying to provoke a fight.

  He wouldn’t give him one.

  “I would never resent a baby. Our baby. Did I want to be a parent? No. If she decides she’s keeping it, then I’m going to be a dad. And I don’t give a shit if a DNA test shows it’s your baby—it’s still our baby. Mine and yours. Because we made it together, and because you’re my guy, and I love you. No way would I ever laugh and dust off my hands and say see ya, suckers. That’s not how this works. I love you, and I love her. That means I’m all-in. It’s still got to be her decision. We didn’t plan this together, and we don’t get to take that decision from her.”

  Kyle didn’t look all the way at him, but his head had turned from the window.

  “How is this any different than what we’ve asked of her as a submissive?” Tristan continued. “We told her we’d never violate her consent, right? Well, fuck me, we accidentally got her pregnant. Hellooo? She wasn’t trying to get pregnant. She didn’t beg us to get her pregnant. She didn’t want to be pregnant. It might be a whoopsie, but it’s still a consent violation. And right up there with the worst of consent violations, in my opinion, regardless of our good intentions. That makes me feel like shit.

  “That’s why I’m approaching it the way I am. Because I know you’re not that guy. You wouldn’t hold her down and rape her if she safeworded any more than you would force her to carry a baby to term that she decides she doesn’t want. I know that, because that’s not the guy I know and love and want to spend the rest of my life with. The guy I love might hurt and bleed inside if she decides she won’t keep it, but he would understand that there’s a bigger picture here. Just like I understand there’s a bigger picture here, and if I’m gonna be a dad, there’s not another guy I’d rather be a dad with and raise our baby with than you.”

  Kyle sagged in the chair, head back, eyes closed, and silently cried.

  This time, when Tris reached for him, Kyle didn’t pull away.

  Tris leaned in and wrapped his arms around him, holding him. He finally sensed the truck slowing, easing, maybe stopping short of the cliff’s edge when Kyle’s arms encircled him and he wept on Tristan’s shoulder.

  He slowly rocked Kyle, stroked his hair. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

  * * * *

  Jess held a cold, wet washcloth over her face for several minutes before heading down to breakfast, to hopefully reduce how red and puffy her eyes looked. Fortunately, her stomach had settled, and she didn’t have any more puking—

  morning sickness

  —before they left for the job site.

  She didn’t even want to think those two words. Definitely didn’t want to give them voice.

  Right now, her focus was this job, even though Ted currently shouldered a huge part of the burden, keeping the homeowner focused and moving forward and working through the process. She had reached a point where she basically kept an eye on everything, made sure the logistics were playing out as planned, and she ran interference for Purs, Mark, and Ted with the volunteers, family, and contractors as needed.
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  She rode over from the hotel with Ted that morning, Mark needing to handle a few things via phone at the office in Florida before he joined them.

  “How you feeling?” Ted asked.

  She tensed but didn’t look at Ted, who was driving. “I’ll be fine.”

  “No more puking this morning?”

  “I’m used to it, believe me.” Her hand sought out her necklace and her fingers played with the tag, pressing the edge against her palm to ground herself.

  He dropped the subject, and they rode the rest of the way to the job site discussing nothing but the job at hand.

  Thankfully.

  Mid-morning, Mark joined them at the site and sought her out. “Can they spare you here until after lunch?”

  “I think so. Why?”

  “Want to deal with some more stuff from Florida. Rather than trying to do it here with the noise and interruptions, it’d be easier back at the hotel. And I left my laptop there, anyway. We’ll grab lunch when we’re done before we come back.”

  “Sure.” It was a short drive to the hotel. When they parked, she noticed he checked his phone and sent a quick text, but if it was her business, he’d tell her.

  He was asking her questions about the next job they would be taking care of after this one when they reached his room door and he knocked.

  It didn’t hit her right then why he’d done that…

  Until the room door opened and she spotted Tristan standing there, Kyle right behind him.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Sorry,” Mark said to her. “You’re our friends, and we’re worried about you, so…we’re meddling. Take as much time as you guys need. Even if you don’t make it back to the site today, Jess. I’ll take care of everything there. I want you guys to have this time alone together to talk. If you want to eat lunch here, just charge it to the room.”

  She hated that her voice trembled. “What’s going on?”

  Except…she knew. Somehow, her secret was out.

  I’m going to fucking kill Brenda.

  Kyle handed a key card to Mark as he and Tristan stepped out of the room. That’s when she realized she was clutching her backpack to her, hugging it.

  She still didn’t let it go.

  “Hey,” Tris said. Both men carried overnight bags slung over their shoulders.

  Mark stepped into his room and quietly closed the door behind him, leaving her standing there with her men, her entire body trembling now, and not so sure her stomach might upend again.

  “Hey,” she softly said.

  Kyle…

  Hell, Kyle looked like he’d been crying, but he hadn’t spoken.

  She finally found her voice. “What are you guys doing here?”

  Maybe they don’t know. Maybe this was supposed to be a good surprise. Maybe—

  “We need to talk, sweetheart,” Tris said. “And we need to talk now.”

  She turned to the door to her room, which sat right next to Mark and Ted’s. Her hand shook so bad she dropped the keycard trying to get it out of her pocket. Tris stooped and grabbed it, then let them into her room, holding the door open for her and a heavily limping Kyle.

  Even inside the room, desperation closed in. If she didn’t give voice to it, maybe they wouldn’t know. She could deny it.

  For now.

  When she sat on the bed farthest from the door, she still held her backpack on her lap in front of her, more for comfort. Both men set their bags down. Kyle remained standing, leaning against the dresser, but Tristan knelt in front of her and coaxed her hands from the bag and into his.

  “We know, sweetheart. Mark called us and told us last night.”

  A wave of rage washed through her. “I can’t believe Brenda told them.”

  “It wasn’t Brenda. Mark said the TV guy overheard you talking on your mic, and he told Mark and Ted.”

  She winced. That’d been before she’d taken the test, when Brenda had suggested it and she’d shot her down.

  Aaaannnd…she’d just outed herself. If she’d known that, she could have spun it, told them it was nothing more than Brenda being worrywart Brenda.

  Except she would have to lie to her men to do that, and she couldn’t do that.

  She couldn’t look him in the eyes. “What do you want me to say?”

  “You don’t have to say anything.” It was Kyle’s hoarse, ragged tone that made her open her eyes and look at him. But his gaze lay focused on the floor, not on her. “We love you, and we’re not going anywhere. If you order us to leave, we’ll go, but we wanted to at least tell you that.”

  “You didn’t come all the way out here just to tell me that, did you?”

  Tris squeezed her hands. “No, sweetie. We came out here to talk.”

  She couldn’t maintain eye contact with him. There were too many emotions swirling through his brown eyes, too much turmoil.

  “About what?”

  His sigh might as well have been a scream—she still flinched.

  “We needed to make sure you’re okay, for starters,” Tris said. She noticed he was doing most of the talking. Kyle now stood with his arms crossed over his chest, almost like he was hugging himself.

  Much like she was hugging her backpack.

  “I’m…fine.”

  “Please don’t lie to us.”

  “Don’t worry,” she snapped. “I’ve got this. You won’t have to take care of anything. Not me, and not a baby.”

  At first, the sound didn’t register. When she realized it was Kyle, she saw his eyes were closed, his jaw tense, set.

  And he was crying.

  She yanked her hands from Tristan’s and shoved her bag aside so she could stand and go to Kyle, but he turned and retreated to the bathroom and closed the door.

  “What’s going on?” She turned back to Tristan, who stood. “What’s wrong?”

  Tris slowly shook his head and opened his arms to her. “We missed you.”

  Like gravity gently tugging at her, she drifted into his arms and let him enfold her. Her body betrayed her and molded her against him, pressing.

  Holding.

  God, she’d missed them.

  Desperately.

  When had life ever felt more perfect than when she was with them?

  Never.

  The lies she’d tried to tell herself, the excuses, the justifications, the fear, the waffling…all that mental and emotional static faded away in his arms.

  She was never so happy as when she was with Tris and Kyle.

  Period.

  “I missed you, too,” she mumbled against his shoulder.

  He guided her back to the end of the bed and sat with her still held close. “He’ll be okay. This isn’t about him, and it’s not about me—it’s about you.”

  “We agreed no kids.”

  “We agreed no kids when you didn’t know you were pregnant.”

  “Why would you change your mind now?”

  “Because I’m not a selfish bastard. The woman we love is in pain, and it’s my job to not add to that pain. Mark said they’ll have to reduce your duties until after you have the baby—”

  “Meaning lower pay,” she bitterly finished. “Wonderful.”

  * * * *

  Tristan could sense the truck approaching the edge of the cliff again and still hoped beyond desperate hope he could prevent it from going over, one way or another.

  “If you want to keep it, then you’ll move in with us. Or we’ll help pay your expenses. We’ll figure something out.”

  “I can’t afford a baby! And what the hell, I thought you didn’t want kids?”

  “Forget about affording a baby. Forget living expenses or—”

  “Forget? I don’t have health insurance! How the hell am I supposed to afford a baby, huh? Go on food stamps?”

  He cupped her face in his hands and made her look him in the eyes. “If money wasn’t an object, and logistics weren’t an issue, what would you want? Honestly?”

  He heard the bathroo
m door open but ignored it. He needed his focus on her right now. He’d only have one chance to get this right, and if he fucked it up, it would eventually destroy them.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I used to want a baby. Before…before Brad fucked me over. Before I realized what a shit he was. But…we talked about this. Look how shitty my mom—”

  “Look how wonderful Michelle is.”

  Tristan sensed rather than watched Kyle slowly limp over and stand in front of them, silent.

  Listening.

  “Your parents,” she said.

  “Kyle’s parents.”

  “Do you suddenly want a baby?” she snapped. “Just like that?”

  “I want you to be happy. Preferably with me and Kyle. If a baby would make you happy, then the three of us are going to be parents, and that’s all there is to it. If not having a baby is what you feel you need to do, then Kyle and I will do what you tell us to do and take care of the expenses for you and be there, beside you, for every step of it, during and after.”

  She finally broke down crying and let him tightly hold her. “I don’t know what I want,” she sobbed. “I want us to get back to the way we were before Marilyn showed up that day. I want the things we’d talked about before that happened. I want to be with you both.”

  “That’s what we want, too. We want to be with you. We love you.”

  “You can marry him,” Kyle softly said, shocking Tristan when he spoke.

  “What?” they both asked.

  He limped over and lowered himself onto the bed on her other side. “Tris has really good health insurance through the school system. Mine’s not that good. You can marry him, and you’ll have health insurance. That takes the expenses out of the equation.”

  Tristan stared into his eyes, studying him, but Kyle wouldn’t look at him. Kyle remained focused on her.

  “But…” She sniffled. “You guys are supposed to get married.”

  Kyle reached out to cup her cheek. “We love you, and we love each other. A piece of paper doesn’t define that. All that piece of paper does is allow us to take care of you in ways we otherwise can’t. Allows us to have tax benefits we can’t have any other way. Ed’s a smart attorney. He’s been handling paperwork for poly families for years. I’m sure he has those answers, so let’s assume they’re not an issue. Okay?”

 

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