by Quinn, Taryn
I stepped into the bedroom. Hannah was curled up on the bed, her honeyed hair tumbled over her face. “You should’ve disclosed your…condition before taking the nanny job.”
Once the words were out, I had no idea what on earth had possessed me to say them.
She should have told me right away, but it was hardly a deterrent to her employment.
I mean, how could it be? The kid was mine.
Mine.
I sank to the floor right where I stood and dropped my head into my hands.
If she thought this behavior was odd, she did not say. Instead, she swung her long legs over the side of the mattress and tugged the sheet around her. “I would have disclosed it before accepting the nanny job had I known.” Her voice was cool. Practically dripping with ice. “Actually, I don’t recall ever saying yes so much as being badgered into it.”
“Sure. Right. Blame me. I made you take the nanny job. I suppose I made you sleep with me too. Both times.”
“You didn’t make me have sex with you either time. I quite enjoyed it.”
Although I suspected that frost in her tone was a defense mechanism, I had a few of my own, and they were all just as detestable. “Enough that you didn’t think you should tell me about this new development before you sucked—”
“Asher.” My name was a whip that shut me the hell up.
Why was I being such a dick to her? She hadn’t caused this. It took two. But she was so goddamn calm, and inside me, it felt as if a hurricane was raging.
“You’ve never been in my situation. You have no right to question why I do anything.”
I scrubbed my face. My eyes were burning as if I hadn’t slept at all. Between watching over her and Lily, I hadn’t gotten much. “You’re right.”
There was no point in asking if she was sure. She had to be. She was supremely competent and wouldn’t just take one test and assume. Although how often was even one test wrong? Probably not that often.
“Did you see a doctor?”
She rolled right on. “Furthermore, I tried to tell you earlier, before Lily had her bad dream. I didn’t want to fall asleep.” She rose, yanking on the sheet when the bedding got tangled. “Carrying a whole other life inside you is exhausting. Surprise.”
The knot in my throat made me swallow hard. “Hannah, I’m sorry.”
But she wasn’t listening to me. “Do you think I wanted to tell you this? I knew you’d freak out. I’ve watched how you struggle with Lily. You’re so much better with her than you give yourself credit for, but you don’t see it. It’ll take time. I know that. I know that,” she repeated, drawing the sheet around her so tightly I wondered how it didn’t cut off her circulation. “But I don’t have that time. I’m carrying this child now. And we have to deal with reality, not start blaming each other like children.”
She was right. Of course, she was. Except I’d never once acted like a child. At least before tonight. I’d always shouldered my responsibilities stoically. Never asking for assistance from anyone.
Until now.
“You were supposed to be the one to help me,” I muttered. “Funny how that worked out, huh?”
She didn’t look at me before marching out of the room and slamming the door.
Almost on cue, Lily started to wail down the hall.
I buried my head in my hands again. She wasn’t wrong to be pissed at me. I’d said some doozies in the span of just a few minutes. But she claimed to understand my position. She didn’t have a clue, as evidenced by that slamming door. Doing that with a kid around was basically a recipe for making the rest of your night hell.
But naturally, she didn’t get that, because she’d never been a mother before. Not until now.
Now that she was having my baby.
Jesus Christ.
I pushed myself to my feet. Without any conscious intention, I went to the dresser and started pulling out fresh clothes. Jeans, boxers, sweater. I pulled them on, then opened the door and went down the hall to find my boots, jacket, and wallet.
The baby was still crying. Every whimper she made tore a hole inside me, but I wasn’t thinking straight. Wasn’t thinking at all.
I had to get away from here.
I grabbed my keys. It was okay, because Hannah was with Lily. Even as pissed as I was—at myself, most of all—I knew she’d take care of my little girl.
It wasn’t fair of me to put her in that position. And it wasn’t because she would be collecting a paycheck either. She already cared so much about Lily.
Cared about—
I shut it down as I yanked on my jacket. Lily would be fine. Hannah would be fine. I was just taking a time-out.
Oh, yeah? Then tell her you’re leaving. Don’t be the bastard who finds out she’s carrying your child and leaves her to handle it alone.
The problem was I had never once been a bastard. Ever. I must’ve been overdue, because I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
This time, I was the one who slammed the door behind me.
Some sick asshole part of me wanted Hannah to worry. To fret that I’d done something so out of character and split. She thought she had me pegged.
Everyone thought they knew me. Even my grandmother. I was about as predictable as a sandwich.
Until tonight.
I stopped dead on the porch at the sight of all the snow. My car was blocked in. The plow service hadn’t come by yet. It wasn’t much past midnight. We’d barely slept for an hour or two before she’d awakened and blown my mind.
In more ways than one.
I didn’t even know where I intended to go. Normally, I’d head into the office and pour my frustrations into paperwork and whatever else I needed to deal with to get ahead for the rest of the week. But that was what dutiful Asher did. I didn’t want to fucking work. I wanted to get blistering drunk and act like an idiot.
I wanted to not be me for a while.
The only reason you can be a jackass is because you know she’s here. Just dump and run, why don’t you?
I yanked on the gloves I found in my pocket and rushed down the steps. Fuck it. I’d walk it off.
Last call was two a.m., wasn’t it? Just enough time for me to pour some libations into me and make all of this disappear for a while.
Just as well that I wasn’t taking my car. I couldn’t drink if I had. This way, I could take an Uber back. Or stumble home.
Or faceplant in a snowbank and see if anyone ever comes looking for me.
Why would she? She already had this situation under control. Oh, she’d said I didn’t understand where she was coming from, but she certainly hadn’t seemed eager for my input. She’d basically said she knew I would freak out.
And look at that, here I was, freaking out.
Sandwiches were probably actually more unpredictable than I was.
I made my way down the sidewalk. Nothing was shoveled, because I hadn’t done it yet and neither had either of my neighbors, spread out as they were. So, I walked in the equally unplowed streets, hunching my shoulders against the cold. It hadn’t seemed so frigid when I was out here before. Playing with Hannah and Lily had taken my attention, I supposed.
Hannah always had, from the very first moment I’d laid eyes on her.
The night we’d made a baby.
Snow fell and blinded me as I walked. I fumbled for my phone, then realized I’d forgotten it.
For the first time, panic surged through me and stalled my breath. I was completely out of touch. What if something happened?
I nearly turned back. But the little devil on my shoulder pushed me forward, and I stumbled on the snowy street as if I’d already had too much.
I didn’t even know where I was going. This neighborhood was essentially new to me. Crescent Cove wasn’t very big, but there were so many small pockets of neighborhoods and side streets.
On one of them I came upon a small bar that looked as if it had been forgotten by time. It wasn’t that far from Main Street, at least geographically. Oth
erwise, it might as well have been on the moon.
The place looked practically deserted. Not shocking on a night this stormy, but I suspected it might be a regular situation. Most smart people stayed home on nights like these.
Whoever had called me smart?
A car and a Jeep sat in the lot. Only one of them appeared to have been running in this century.
A blinking neon sign above the weathered door read Sharkey’s. Did he own the beater car? Or was he the owner of the Jeep? I couldn’t imagine anyone picking that name for a watering hole if it wasn’t their own.
Tentatively, I turned the door handle.
Devil, don’t desert me now.
I stepped inside the murky darkness of a rather ordinary drinking establishment. Tinny oldies music piped from unseen speakers, and the lone TV high on the wall was tuned to the sports highlights.
Only one patron sat at the bar. He wore a ball cap and a heavy down vest with a flannel shirt beneath. He didn’t look away from the TV as I grabbed a stool.
“Hey.”
He finally turned my way. “Hey. You lost too?”
The guy seemed around my age, give or take half a decade. I’d expected him to be some wizened old fisherman, judging from the way he was hunched over his frosty beer mug.
His mostly empty beer mug.
“You could say that. Is there a bartender in this joint?”
“Quit yer bitching.” A bubblegum-chomping redhead strolled out of the back on high enough platform heels that I hoped she never encountered spills. “Whatcha want?”
This was definitely not my usual sort of place.
“An old-fashioned, please.”
She looked back at the wall of bottles behind her, selected one, and plunked it down in front of me. “Here you go.” Then she disappeared in the back.
“She’s not the usual bartender,” the guy beside me offered. “She’s just filling in. Doesn’t give a shit about this job.”
I pried off my gloves. “You could’ve fooled me.”
The bottle wasn’t even opened. It definitely wasn’t a high-end whiskey either. But who was I to judge? I just wanted to get fucking drunk.
When I struggled to get the bottle open with the opener on my keychain, the guy beside me grabbed it and did the honors. “Not much of a drinker?”
“What makes you say that?”
His gaze dropped to my legs. “Your jeans look starched. Not part of the usual uniform.”
The guy’s jeans seemed pretty tidy themselves, but I couldn’t argue. “I don’t think I’ve gotten properly drunk since college.”
“Twenty years ago?”
Affronted, I tossed back the whiskey. And nearly choked until my eyes bled. “Try ten.”
He cocked his head, drank a little more, and nodded. “Yeah, I can see it. Sorry. The snow made your hair look grayer.”
“Grayer?” I leaned forward and tried to see my reflection in the mirror backing the bottles on the wall behind the bar. “I don’t have any gray. At least I didn’t before today. Now? Very possible.”
“What happened today?”
“I knocked up my New Year’s Eve date.” I sank back on the stool and braced my palms on the sticky bar top. Sightlessly, I stared straight ahead. “I can’t believe I just told you that.”
I also couldn’t believe I’d referred to Hannah that way. Although it had been technically accurate until a few hours ago when we crossed that line again, it wasn’t the truth. Hannah had never just been a hookup to me.
She couldn’t be. Even if we had never met up again after New Year’s, I would’ve always seen her as the one who got away.
The one I let leave.
I tossed back more of the whiskey and savored the fiery aftertaste as it worked its way down. Tonight, I’d been the one to walk away.
The regret inside me burned almost as much as the cheap alcohol.
“And you can’t even blame getting toasted yet.” The guy beside me set down his empty mug. He looked around as if he wanted another beer, but good luck there. “One and done situation?”
“No. I mean, we thought so, but she’s my daughter’s nanny now, and we just slept together again tonight, and Christ, I need to drink faster.” I took another few swallows and wiped the back of my hand over my chin. “What is happening to my mouth?”
“Can’t answer that, as I don’t know you from Adam.” He stuck out a hand to me. “I’m Austin Lancaster, by the way. I’m new to the area.”
“Me too. Well, kind of. I’m from Syracuse. Recent Crescent Cove transplant.” I shook his extended hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Name?”
“Huh?” Then I laughed. It was probably good I rarely drank. Clearly, I was not a natural. “Asher Wainwright.”
Austin’s dark brows climbed toward his equally dark hair. “The newspaper Wainwright people? Fancy building with your name splashed over it?”
I considered lying, although I’d never denied my legacy to anyone. On the contrary, I’d let fighting to maintain it define me for so long that I wasn’t sure who I was outside the realm of business.
“Yes. That’s me. Well, I didn’t start the paper, but I inherited the publishing company.”
Austin whistled. “Wow. You gotta have much more top shelf stuff at home.” He nodded at the whiskey I hadn’t stopped steadily sipping.
I’d probably singe off the lining of my throat before the night was through, but the buzz in my blood was nice. Even my chaotic thoughts were settling. I hadn’t had that kind of reprieve since…
Hannah. Hannah gave me that same sort of break from the weight of my responsibilities.
Yet somehow in our escape, we’d created another one.
Together.
Not just me, not just her. It was a joint project, and I’d left her to handle her end alone.
I rubbed my fist over my suddenly aching forehead. Christ, I was a right bastard.
“You have any idea how a guy who hasn’t had sex in years impregnates someone on their first try?”
Austin coughed and wrapped both his hands around his mug. His chunky gold insignia ring caught the dim light. “I don’t know. Luck?”
I frowned. “You think it’s lucky? I already have one. And I didn’t even make that one myself.”
Austin’s mouth quirked. I couldn’t say I blamed him. I knew I sounded like some kind of crazy right now, but I couldn’t seem to shut my trap. “Depends on how you look at it, I guess.” He scratched his scruffy chin. “As to your question, if not luck, maybe you…stored up?”
It took me a moment to follow. When I got there, I started to laugh. “Probably true. My grandmother says it isn’t healthy. Jesus, my grandmother. I didn’t even think about what she’d say.” I shut my eyes and shook my head. “See what happens when she goes away? Everything goes all to hell.”
“What she would say about what? The knocking up part? From my experience with grandmas, they’re usually overjoyed at the prospect of babies.”
I opened my eyes. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“Am I? So, you want me to agree you getting some hookup pregnant who is the nanny to the baby you didn’t make—yet you call your daughter—is a calamity. Do I have that right?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if I have the facts right?”
“No. The calamity part. I mean, it should be. Am I father material?” I jerked my thumb at my chest and jabbed myself hard enough to bruise.
“You look like it.”
“Hmm.” Was that a good thing? Why had Hannah wanted to nail someone who looked like a daddy?
Different kind of daddy. The other kind I doubted had any trouble getting action.
“That’s not an insult. Just saying you look stable. Mature. God knows you have the financials covered.” He nudged my shoulder with a grin. “Don’t suppose I can hit you up for a loan sometime?”
“Wait until I save my company first, okay?”
; Austin’s eyes narrowed.
I cleared my throat. “Good job on keeping up with my fucked-up life, by the way. I have trouble following it myself, and you grasped it all like a pro.” I lifted the whiskey to my mouth and wondered why the distance seemed to have grown. Of course, the bottle was a third empty now. I was probably reaching my limit.
Did I have a limit?
I knocked back some more. Maybe not.
“Thanks. My boss always praises my linear thinking.” Austin’s dimples flashed.
“That ring? Police? I couldn’t quite make out the insignia.”
He shuddered. “Bite your numb tongue.”
I tapped it against the roof of my mouth. He wasn’t far off. “Fire Department?”
He saluted me with his empty mug before banging it three times on the bar. Miss Sunshine shot out of the back, gave him a refill, and split with a scowl for me.
I probably wasn’t drinking the whiskey fast enough. Then again, consuming this whole bottle might literally kill me.
“Yes. New York’s Bravest, except some miles away from the city.”
“It’s an honor to meet you,” I said solemnly. “I’m also glad you can’t arrest me if I end up forgetting to pay and stiffing the bartender for this bottle.”
“I heard that,” she called from the back.
“It’s an honor to meet you too. I’ve never met someone actually made of cash money. Although you mentioned something about saving—”
I waved it off. “Hello, I’m working on being drunk. Don’t listen to me. You live near here?”
“Yeah, Morningstar Lane. Renting a place, with an option to buy. Assuming I come up with the money. I’m in line for a promotion, but it means longer hours and it’s hard with Joey.”
“Wife?” I rethought the name. “Husband?”
Austin shook his head. “Kid sister, but I’m basically her dad now. Our parents passed on last year.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. Me too. It’s a rough situation.” Austin took a long drink.
“I don’t suppose she’s under two? Lily could use a playmate.” Then again, Hannah and I would be providing her with one soon enough.
My head swam and I started to push back my stool. I might actually need to put my head between my knees so I didn’t pass out.