Unexpected Love

by Casey Clipper

  “Fuck, I work tonight,” Ryan said, running a hand across the back of his neck.

  “And we've got an early morning,” Sean said. “Beth comes with me because she could go into labor any moment with the twins, even though she has two months left in the pregnancy.”

  “I'll call Mom,” Ryan said.

  “You can't ask Mom and Dad,” his brother barked. “That's too much to ask an older couple to take care of a newborn overnight.”

  Ryan spun on his heels away from Sean. His brother was getting on his last damn nerve. He closed his eyes to gain some composure because he was about to lose his shit. So many problems, and he hadn't even had the baby home for ten minutes. Sean was right, though, he couldn't ask his parents to babysit, and if Beth did happen to go into labor, what would be done with the infant? There was only one possible person left who'd never refuse him.

  ***

  Ryan struggled through the front door of his cousin's home. Diaper bag, baby in carrier, blankets, and his travel mug of Dunkin Donuts coffee were really too much for him to attempt at one time. But what the hell? He was a guy, right? He could do anything. He'd carried major weapons, food, communication, and whatever type of gear he needed on his back while hunting down some of the top terrorists in the world. A three day old baby should be nothing.

  His travel mug slipped through his fingers when he tried to shut the door behind him with his foot. A loud crack ricocheted off the walls while coffee splashed over every pristine surface, the carrier, blankets, and diaper bag.

  “Damn it,” he snapped.

  Naturally the sound startled the baby who started to scream.

  The empty hallway instantly filled. Courtney, his beautiful blonde cousin, entered from the kitchen and stopped.

  “Ryan, did Beth have her babies?” she asked, rushing towards him.

  “No,” he quietly answered.

  He glanced around, embarrassed over what he had to admit to the throng of onlookers who appeared out of nowhere. A normal occurrence at the Murphy household. His cousin had a full staff at her disposal twenty-four seven.

  Courtney approached him, her eyes on the baby. Her husband, Derrick Murphy, mob boss of the Northeast stepped into the hall from the living room. Their two children, Caitlin and Daniel, rushed up and jumped up and down in front of him.

  “Uncle Ryan, want to see my new room?” Daniel screamed. “We dec...r...tated.”

  “Decorated,” Courtney corrected.

  “That's what I said.” He pouted.

  “Not right now, squirt,” Ryan said.

  “Ryan, explain the baby in your hands,” Courtney said. “Are you babysitting?” she asked stunned.

  Mary, their housekeeper, efficiently scooted around them with a towel and damp mop.

  To his relief, his cousin grabbed the carrier off him, took the baby into the living room, pulled him out, and cradled him in her loving arms. She quietly hummed to his son and repositioned him to curl against her chest. Her motherly touch immediately calmed the hysterical newborn.

  She turned to him. “Ryan? Whose baby do you have that you spilled coffee all over?”

  “His name is Brady Dempsey Millen.”

  He watched her eyes grow wide. “Ryan?”

  “Court, I can't...” He had no idea how to continue.

  “Dempsey was pap's name, Ryan. Millen...Millen... What did you do?” she breathed.

  “I don't know.”

  “What do you mean, you don't know? I have a newborn baby in my arms that's named after pap and has your last name. This isn't Sean's baby. What the hell did you do?” Her tone grew louder and angrier.

  He rattled off the mind-numbing events of the past three days, positive he missed a lot of important details. But he still hadn't come to grips with the fact he supposedly had a son.

  When he finished, the room remained silent. Courtney looked entirely flabbergasted, back and forth from him to her husband who had slyly slid into the room.

  “Ryan, are you sure that's your son?” Derrick asked skeptical.

  “No. The paternity test should come in any day now,” he answered. He remained in the doorway, unable to step further into the room, closer to the baby, as if it was a wild animal ready to attack.

  “But you named him after pap,” Courtney said. “That means a part of you believes this is your son.”

  His head snapped to attention. “I don't fuckin' know that, Court. I'm a goddamn mess. I get a random phone call and next thing I know I have some chick I don't know telling me I helped create this baby.”

  He closed his eyes, trying to control is anger. It definitely wasn't his cousin's fault he was in this debacle, and wasn't fair to take his frustration out on her. Especially when he needed to beg for her help.

  “I'm sorry,” he whispered, his head dangling from his shoulders.

  Oddly his opinionated cousin didn't respond. Her overprotective husband didn't rip off his head for disrespecting his wife. He glanced up through his eyelashes to find tears streaking down Courtney's fair features. But her eyes were focused on Brady. Derrick stood to her side, running a soothing hand up and down her back. She kissed his son's bald head and whispered something he couldn't make out.

  “What do you need?” she asked, looking at him.

  He ran an exhausted hand down his face. “I can't ask Beth and Sean to watch him while I work.”

  “No, not with Beth pregnant with twins and could go into labor any moment,” Courtney agreed.

  “I have to work tonight.”

  “You need a nanny,” she said factually.

  “I don't have the money to pay a full time, live-in nanny like you do, Court,” Ryan huffed. “Some of us don't make millions upon millions of dollars a year.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Stop being an ass. You at least have to talk to people and see about babysitting, a nanny, whatever you can figure out.”

  He paced back and forth. What the hell could he do to help himself out? He did need help so he could continue to work. In all the years he pulled shifts in the NICU, Ryan never paid attention to how the many single parents that had come and gone had done it all. But they had, right?

  How? How was he supposed to suddenly become a father? Overnight.

  Finally he tossed his hands up into the air. His mind wasn't functioning. Hell, he probably should call off work, he was in such a bad state.

  “I'm happy you kept him, Ryan,” Court said gently.

  He looked up confused.

  “You explained Sean refused to allow you to give Brady up,” she reminded. “We'll work it out. We'll help you work it out,” she promised.

  “Can you watch him tonight? I have to work from nine until seven,” he asked.

  “Of course Brady can stay the night,” Courtney cooed to the baby.

  He blinked. Then blinked again. For years his cousin had leaned on him and Sean for support, almost like a crutch. This was the first time he needed her help, and Courtney stepped up and offered her assistance. In fact she readily accepted the newborn as part of her family, using his name, and from the way she held him, took on a mother bear role. He snorted. She'd changed significantly over the past seven months since her fall out with his brother. If only Sean would buck up and forgive her, then their relationship could get back to the way it had been for years. As close as brother and sister as they could get without actually being siblings. That world war fight between them shifted the family dynamic and not in a positive way.

  Brady started to squirm.

  “When did you last feed him?” she asked.

  “Three hours ago. Beth fed him.”

  Derrick's keen eyes narrowed his direction. He glanced back and forth from Courtney to Ryan, looked down at the diaper bag that Beth neatly packed, glanced back up at him, then back to his wife. “Tell me something, Ryan,” Derrick said, his voice deceptively neutral. “When did you last feed your son?”

  Ryan went to answer, stopped, and clamped his mouth shut. He sagged against the d
oorway frame. “I haven't,” he admitted, though he wasn't sure if he was ashamed of the answer or not.

  “Hmmm,” Derrick mused, bent down and picked up the bag. He unzipped it and pulled out the contents. “When was the last time you changed his diaper?”

  Again, Ryan closed his eyes. Derrick was a hands-on father despite the fact he could put a gun to your head and pull the trigger without wincing. When it came to his wife and children, he relished their place in his world. Naturally Derrick would take great offense to Ryan's lack of bonding with the baby.

  “I haven't,” he answered without looking his cousin or her husband in the eyes. Ryan was ashamed he didn't feel guilty.

  5

  Lynn struggled to get the key into the barely used apartment door lock, then shoved the heavy door open. She was struck with the stench of staleness and dust. Obviously her cousin hadn't lied when he said they didn't utilize their rental.

  She rushed to the windows and opened every one to allow the unseasonably warm day breeze to whip through the space. If she didn't it would be only a matter of minutes before her allergies kicked in. At the bedroom windows, she appreciated the view of the park across the street. Located in a homey suburban neighborhood, this was the only building of its kind, surrounded by homes with large yards, picket fences, women walking their dogs, and sounds of children's laughter bouncing off every surface. All taking advantage of the warm, March day. More than likely, her brother and cousin scared the hell out of the neighbors when they moved in with their oversized physiques and serious military demeanor. She couldn't help but to laugh aloud at the imagery.

  Over the next hour she unpacked her overstuffed car but had to pile all of the items in the small, beige colored living room. She was going to have to call Russ or Jarrett to find out which of the two bedrooms she could take over. She wished for the larger one, but the boys would then have to share a room. It wouldn't be fair to put two beds into the smaller, tight room.

  The ring of her cell phone interrupted her situating the boxes she would need immediate access to. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Lynnie.”

  She internally groaned. Should have looked at the caller ID.

  “Robert,” she said curtly. “Please don't call me Lynnie.” She loathed the pet name. She wasn't a two year old child.

  “Sorry,” he said, sounding contrite.

  “Why are you calling me?” she asked, annoyed.

  “I wanted to see how you were holding up?”

  What. A. Dick. He was calling her to see how she was holding up? He was a major cause of her current predicament. A year ago he had “needed a break.” Needed to “find himself.” It “wasn't her.”

  She'd never forget that blind-siding conversation when he'd come home from the office. Shocked didn't come close to describing her state. She'd been only three months from finishing nursing school, a degree he had encouraged her to get, said he'd “support her.”

  Yeah, right.

  Upon deciding to search for whatever it was he needed to find, he left her and moved out of the place they'd lived together for two and a half years. She struggled emotionally and financially, alone, to finish those last few months of school to receive her degree. Talk about a lesson learned. She'd never again depend on a man to be her sole provider.

  “I'm fine,” she lied.

  “Are you?”

  “What do you want, Robert?”

  “I want to take you out to dinner,” he said. “Tonight.”

  She choked on her own salvia. “What?” she sputtered.

  “Come on, Lynnie. Please. I'm in a better place now. We need to try to work this out. We belong together,” he pleaded.

  “Don't call me again, Robert,” she growled. She could literally feel her blood boil. “You were the one who walked away. Deal with it.” She disconnected the call and caught herself before hurling the phone against the wall.

  “Was that your ex?” a deep voice said from behind her.

  She screamed and jumped in a contorted motion with limbs flailing. She ended up on the floor after stumbling over the coffee table.

  “Ass!” she screamed at her brother.

  Russ smirked, then came to loom over her sprawled out on the floor. He held out his hand to help her up. “Why wasn't the door locked?”

  “I've been carting boxes in. It would be stupid for me to lock it every single time.”

  “Said the thirty-two year old single woman, who doesn't know anyone in the building, doesn't know self-defense, and refuses to carry a gun,” he chastised.

  As she took his hand and stood, she kicked him hard in the shin.

  “Fuck!” Russ yelled, bent and grabbed his leg.

  “How's that for self-defense, asshole?” she said snidely. Brothers.

  “Jesus, Lynn,” he groused, rubbing his shin.

  She laughed evilly, turned, and stalked to the kitchen.

  Her brother followed, limping. “Well, you didn't answer my question. Was that your ex?”

  “Yes,” she groaned.

  “Don't tell me you're thinking about going back to him. I'd hate to have to kill the idiot to prevent that from happening.” He leaned casually against the sink, arms crossed over his broad chest. She noted he took weight off his damaged shin but tried to hide the stance.

  “No, Russ, you don't have to worry about me going back to Rob,” she assured him. “That's over. Though I wish he'd get the hint.”

  “Want me to make it clear to him?”

  “No,” she yelped. “Stay out of it. I can handle him.”

  Only she wished she didn't have to deal with an ex that refused to stay an ex, even if he was the one who broke their relationship off. How lovely would it be to meet a man with no baggage, emotional or otherwise? Did those men even exist? Yeah, on her eReader and in her dreams.

  She grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and went back into the living room with Russ tagging behind. “I'm glad you're here. Which bedroom can I take?”

  Her big, scary brother flopped himself down on the sofa and sprawled out, relaxing. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “Are you sure this is what you want? To live here?”

  “I don't have a choice, Russ.”

  “You could go back home,” he suggested, eyes remaining closed.

  She snorted. “Would you go back home?”

  “Ah...no.”

  “Then what makes you think it's all right for me?”

  He shrugged.

  There wasn't anything wrong with moving back home with their parents, except for the fact that since their mom and dad retired early, they would hover. Relentlessly. They'd want to talk about everything. Work. Dates. What she should be doing with her life and what she wasn't doing correctly with her life. She'd get absolutely no privacy. Their parents didn't believe in locked doors in the house, so barging into a bedroom when one was naked from the shower wasn't out of the norm. They would also set curfews for whoever decided to return home. Why curfews? Because their parents refused to give out keys to the house. That was actually ridiculous but a losing argument that her and Russ had had with them numerous times. It was funny because her parents were the extreme strict couple while Jarrett's parents, her immensely kind aunt and uncle, were the laid back couple. How their father and uncle came from the same grandparents, they could never figure out.

  “Which room?” she pressed.

  “You can take mine, it's the larger one,” he said, one eye popping open to look her way. “I'll share with Jarrett.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thanks,” she said gratefully.

  Swinging his legs off the sofa, he jumped up and pulled her into a large embrace. “You are the strongest woman I know. You'll be fine,” he said, his tone riddled with a hint of worry mixed with pride. His normal state when it came to her well-being.

  “I will be,” she said, trying to reassure her brother so he wouldn't fret. If now she could only convince herself.

  6


  Ryan clocked into the computer system and started his shift. For the first time in days, he was relieved something in his life was back to normal. Work. Where he could concentrate on anything other than the fact he had unexpectedly and unwillingly become a father.

  When he'd left Brady with his cousin, he had no idea how much of a brilliant decision that turned out to be. Courtney was smitten with her newborn second cousin. She'd rushed up to the one of the many spare bedrooms of her large home and started to throw together a room to give his son. She'd sent Mary, the housekeeper, out to the store to grab new bedding for one of the cribs she was pulling down from the attic.

  Equally stunning was her husband also took to the newborn. When he'd left to go home, shower, and dress for work, Derrick had Brady over his shoulder, trying to get the gas bubble out of the baby. The mob boss was dressed in a designer black business suit and had a baby draped over him as if it was an everyday occurrence. Daniel and Caitlin danced around their father, chiding for their turn to hold the baby.

  After he'd gone over all his shift change information, Ryan went about his business with his NICU patients. At least he tried to go about his usual routine. It wasn't as easy as he'd hoped. Each newborn patient that he worked on threw him right back to the fact he had a son. Something he'd never wanted for himself.

  Did he love babies? Yes. Always had. At one point in his life, he'd wanted the entire family package like his brother was creating for himself. A woman to settle down with permanently. Not necessarily a wife, but a partner he could spend the rest of his days with. But that changed about a year ago. He couldn't say it was because of one certain incident. It was a few, put together, that made him decide single life was best.

  He didn't want to explain to anyone, including his own brother, the PTSD nightmares that frequently continued years after he'd been discharged. He managed to keep them well hidden from Sean, hence the soundproof walls in the house that he'd insisted on when they bought the place. Hence the nightly company as well. He found exhaustion kept the night terrors at bay. Then there was watching his cousin go through the hell of losing her first baby and losing her first husband. He couldn't imagine subjecting himself to that special kind of torture with someone he loved. Not only that, it was a bit freeing not to be tied down to anyone or anything. Well, except his brother–and now his sister-in-law. But those relationships were different. It was a relief to know no one had counted on him to be the center of their world. Until now.