by Taryn Quinn
“You can’t have her.” Her grip tightened. “Over my dead body.”
“I don’t want her.” His voice turned pitying. “Keep reading, sugar. I think you’ve gotten the wrong idea.”
Heart pounding, she forced herself to continue scanning the page. The more she read, the clearer the picture became.
He didn’t want her child. Of course not. He wanted to use this opportunity to divest himself of any responsibility. If he couldn’t get her to abort the kid, he refused to give it his name or his financial support.
She raised her bone-dry eyes to his. “Goddamn bastard.”
“If you think this through, you’ll see this makes total sense. You refuse to be cool-headed enough to terminate, but there’s no reason we both should suffer.”
“Suffer? I’ll tell you who’s suffering. Me for having to deal with you.”
“Then this is the out you’ve been searching for, isn’t it?”
“You honestly think I want your child to have your name or your stupid money?” She stepped forward and drilled a nail into his chest. “I can’t believe I ever fucked you.”
His smug smile made a reappearance. “Oh but you did. Numerous times.” He licked his lips. “Memorable ones too.”
“For you, maybe. I remember more about the last time I cozied up with my vibrator.”
“And when was that? This morning?” He edged closer, just over the threshold.
Driving her back a step before she held her ground and glared him down. “You wish. Get out of my house.”
She hadn’t meant to say it. This wasn’t her house. She didn’t have a home. Once she’d worn out her welcome at Sterling’s—if she hadn’t already—she and her baby were on their own.
“Your house?” His eyes taunted her, even the one that was bloodshot and nearly swollen closed. “This isn’t your place. Do you really think spreading your legs for a guy makes you his? Didn’t work so well with you and me, now did it?”
“Get one thing straight. I never wanted to be yours. You were a man I screwed.”
“That tattoo of my name on your back says something different, sweetness.”
She gripped the papers in sweaty, tensed fingers. “Everyone’s allowed one moment of stupidity. I’ll just have to pay for mine for the rest of my life.”
Even as she said the words, she mentally threw up an apology to her baby. You aren’t a mistake, Maybe Baby. I’m sorry. I never meant you. Just him. I promise.
He jerked his head at the documents. “Signing those will end our association and get me out of your life for good.” His tone had turned cajoling. “Isn’t that what you want?”
She rubbed her knuckles soothingly over her belly. Yet again she was on the verge of ralphing up her breakfast. Unless her morning sickness had decided to make an unexpected reappearance after a brief respite, she was clearly suffering from all-body rebellion. Or maybe her child knew what was happening. Who could say for sure what a fetus understood?
Either way she cut it, she needed this asshole out of her hair—and her life.
But was this the answer? Sure, she didn’t want Pete around, but did she have the right to exclude him before the child had a say? What happened when her baby grew older and asked questions? Perhaps Pete would come around and change his mind about having at least a peripheral involvement in her daughter’s life. Being hasty right now because it suited her needs might harm her kid later.
She couldn’t allow that to happen. No matter what, she intended to do right by her baby.
“I need to thi—” Ang broke off at the stampede behind Pete. “What the hell?”
Two women, one petite and dark, the other statuesque and redheaded, charged up the steps. “Well, hello there.” The redhead smiled and eased past an obviously startled Pete. “Are you ready to go shopping?”
The brunette wasn’t nearly as subtle. “Yeah, mamajama, we need to haul ass.” She shoved past Pete to flank Ang’s other side. There really wasn’t enough room for the three of them in the doorway, but neither woman surrendered ground. “Sorry, Genetic Mistake, you’re infringing on our ladies’ day out.”
Genetic Mistake? Ang nearly snorted.
Pete wasn’t so amused. “Who are you two?”
Ang wasn’t sure either, only that she belatedly recognized them as the two women she’d seen with Sterling at the bingo hall. Had they been hiding in the bushes? Were they spies sent over by Sterling?
Regardless, at the moment, they were providing her with a welcome distraction.
“These are my friends.” Ang linked arms with both of them, wrinkling her nose as their dueling perfumes wafted over her. One of them smelled innocuously of vanilla, the other a violent explosion of fruit.
Alas, her stomach currently wasn’t fond of fruit.
Don’t throw up. Please don’t throw up.
“Oh, really? Your friends, huh?”
“Yes.” The redhead gave Ang a reassuring squeeze, which had the unintended effect of tumbling her loose red hair over Ang’s arm. Perfectly silky hair that went with her crisp white blouse and trim dark pants. A delicate gold chain belt ringed her impossibly tiny waist.
No preggers belly there, that was for damn sure.
“Absolutely,” the brunette agreed, crowding closer and nearly knocking Ang over in a wave of melon and mango. She was also impeccably dressed, though more casual. She wore jeans and a tight T-shirt that showed off breasts that would have laughed in the face of stretch marks.
Not that Ang was jealous of their tight bodies or flawless hair, clothes and makeup. Nope. She looked great herself in her shapeless top, ratty boxers and toenails bearing half moons of fading blue nail polish. The dark bags under her eyes just gave them…definition.
Yep, she was so going to puke.
“Excuse me,” Ang choked out, flinging the papers at Pete and breaking away from the women.
She hauled ass as requested, just not to the closest store. Instead she booked down the hall to the half bath, lunging inside and slamming the door an instant before she fell to her knees in front of the toilet.
A few minutes later, she flushed and let out a windy sigh. Her Fruity Pebbles hadn’t stood a chance.
She used the facilities and washed her hands with about three gallons of liquid soap, then brushed her teeth twice. After finger-combing her hair, she opened the door and shuffled back down the hall to attend to her “guests”.
Small favors, at least Pete was gone. But the brown envelope was not. It sat on the table next to the door, with a Post-it note stuck to the top.
You have two weeks.
“Fucker,” she muttered, lifting her head at the click of high heels on the hardwood floor. She glanced over her shoulder and connected gazes with the brunette, the owner of the biggest blue eyes Ang had ever seen.
“Are you okay?” she asked gently.
“Yeah.” Ang swallowed and fought the urge to crumple the envelope in her fists. She tossed it back on the table and forced herself to smile. “I’ve been better, but I won’t be worse.”
“That’s the spirit.” She held out a hand. “I’m Summer, in case you forgot.” At Ang’s blank look, Summer prompted, “You announced my engagement, remember?”
“Yes. I remember.”
“And Cass is making you tea.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Ang shook Summer’s hand limply and released her. “Um, I appreciate the rescue. I saw you with Sterling at the bingo hall, so I’m assuming you’re friends. Did Sterling send you over to babysit me?”
“Ha. No one sends me anywhere. Cass and I were hanging out across the street at Mrs. Wilder’s. Cass told me Sterling punched that guy for hassling you yesterday. So we came over to do our neighborly duty and get that DB off the porch once and for all.”
Ah, so now they were getting closer to the truth. “DB?”
“Douchebag,” Summer confirmed.
“Who’s Mrs. Wilder?” Ang really needed to meet more of Sterling’s neighbors. And venture outdoors
more, period. She hadn’t even made it down the street to Lake Winnetonka and the lovely attached park yet.
When the baby came, she’d want a nice place to push her stroller. The park would be perfect.
Reality slammed down hard on the back of Ang’s neck, an almost physical blow. You won’t be living here then, remember? You and Maybe Baby will be long gone.
“Mrs. Wilder is Jax’s mom. She lives in the blue saltbox across the street. I’m Chase Dixon’s girlfriend. Fiancée,” Summer corrected. “Chase owns Deuces Wild with Jax.”
Ang fought to shake off her glum thoughts. “Oh. Okay. So your man works with Sterling.”
“Technically he’s still Sterling’s boss, but Sterling doesn’t see it that way.”
“Well, considering all the ideas Sterling has and the ways he’s drummed up business, he shouldn’t, now should he?” GothGeek had been told plenty about Sterling’s business practices and daily work life. Ang, on the other hand, had been told precious little.
Summer’s mouth curved. “You’re protective of him already. I like it.”
“What do you mean already? I’ve known the man since I was a baby.”
Summer eyed Ang’s stomach. “When you say you know him, are you talking biblically? Because I’m getting a very biblical vibe from you, and I’m cool with it, but I’m not sure Cass will be. Because Jax won’t be, and that may cause marital strife. Jax and Cass are together. Did I tell you that before?”
“No,” Ang mumbled. She’d need a nap before this conversation was over. “Why wouldn’t Jax be happy about me and Sterling—if we were—”
“You’re young and knocked up. Sterling’s older and set in his ways. It’s a match made in trouble. So maybe we won’t mention too much about any of that to Cass. Okay?”
None of this made sense. Who were these people? Getting their names didn’t give her a clue as to why they were all up in her business. “If you say so.”
“But you can tell me. Just so we’re square.” Summer leaned closer. “Are you boning GQ?”
Ang blinked up at her. Summer was pretty petite, but most petite people towered over Ang. “GQ?”
“Sterling.”
“Ah.” Ang glanced furtively up the hall. “Where’s that tea? Suddenly I’m parched.” She hated tea, truth be told, but she’d drink Sterling’s entire stash before she admitted to fucking him. Or intercoursing with him or whatever he’d consider an acceptable alternative.
“So that’s a yes. I figured as much. You’re a cute little thing.”
“Not so little.” Cute…well, she’d been called worse.
Like unwanted and fickle and a whore, for a start. And that was just from Pete.
“How pregnant are you?”
Ang threw back her shoulders. In the deluge of information, she’d skated right over Summer’s earlier mention of her being knocked up. “Who said I was?”
“The adorable baby bump, the big cans that don’t really match your small frame, the protective way you keep holding your belly, and oh yeah, the way you heaved loud enough to scare off that weaselly-eyed creep who was hassling you.”
“Baby bump? You can’t see that. It’s barely there.” She pulled up her shirt to check for herself, glancing up at Summer’s laugh. “No one ever accused me of being classy.”
Summer grinned. “Me either. I can tell we’re going to be BFFs.”
“You already have a BFF.” A voice echoed down the hall.
“So I do. But a girl can always have more than one.”
Ang frowned and let her shirt drop. “I don’t have any. I mean, I have friends. Good ones. But a bestie, no. That’s different. Special. Isn’t it?” she asked uncertainly.
“Yes, it is.” Cass carried a tray down the hall, her hair bouncing over her shoulders like a lush strawberry-gold carpet with every step. “Summer and I have been friends since we were kids, just like Chase and Jax. Chase is my big brother, by the way.”
“Well, not counting their emo-man breakup.” Summer sounded remarkably cheerful about said breakup. “But they’re all good now. Men can be such babies.”
Ang caught herself cupping her belly again and stroked the ring in her eyebrow instead. She really had to get a new nervous habit, at least until she told everyone she needed to tell. “So I hope you don’t mind me asking, since you’ve both been so…kind and all, but now that Pete’s gone, why are you still here? We aren’t going shopping.”
“Sure we are.” Cass set down the tray on the coffee table and fixed Ang a cup, adding a pinch of sugar and honey before handing it over. “Jax pried it out of Sterling that you don’t have any baby things yet.”
Ang took an experimental sip. The smooth citrus notes buffed away the flash of annoyance that Sterling had talked to Jax about her baby. Already she could tell this bunch formed a tight network, and maybe she shouldn’t expect Sterling to remain mum to his friends. He’d done so much for her by giving her a home and keeping her secret. Besides, it wasn’t like any of them knew her parents.
She hoped.
“This is really good,” she said, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice.
“Of course it is,” Cass replied. “Sterling told me he’d stocked several kinds for you so I went with lemon. I thought that might clear your taste buds after your bathroom interlude.”
“He stocked tea for me?” It didn’t surprise her. The man was ridiculously thoughtful. Except when it came to post-sex interaction, but who was keeping track?
“Sure. He wants you to be comfortable.” Cass doled out a cup of tea to Summer, who produced a flask from her hip purse. She tipped a couple of amber drops into the liquid before shooting Ang a conspiratorial grin.
Which Ang very nearly shot back, despite being semi-annoyed for reasons she couldn’t quite decipher. Sterling was keeping her secret from the people who counted, particularly her father. Just because she was still peeved at him for running out yesterday shouldn’t color her feelings toward his friends.
Friends who had helped her out big-time with Pete.
“Are you Sterling’s confidant or something?” Ang asked, unable to stem her curiosity.
Cass sat with her own cup of tea and crossed her mile-long legs. Her ankles appeared to be the approximate circumference of Ang’s thumbs. “Sterling doesn’t have many confidants. You must know that.”
“I’m questioning a lot of things I thought I knew lately.”
“He’s close with Jax.” Cass shrugged. “And Jax tells me stuff. It’s in the husband-wife agreement.”
“You’re married?”
Cass smiled. “Engaged. But close enough to the real deal to count.”
Ang sank to the arm of the couch and took another sip of tea. Everyone engaged as far as the eye could see. Then there was her, unmarried and pregnant and causing men to come to blows over her to their own detriment.
“I shouldn’t let him stock me tea. Or deck Pete.” Or lick my pussy until I see shooting stars. “Or anything else I’ve let him do recently.”
Summer cleared her throat. “Ah, so about that. I haven’t been off tour long so I don’t know Sterling that well, but—”
Ang squinted at Summer. “I knew it. I thought you were Sunny Z when I saw you at the bingo hall. If I hadn’t been so distracted this morning, I would’ve embarrassed myself fawning all over you.”
“Aw, that’s so nice.” Summer jogged over to give Ang a one-armed hug. “It’s so cool to meet someone who actually knows who I am.”
Cass lifted one pale eyebrow as she sipped her tea. “I know who you are.”
“Don’t pay attention to her. She’s Oscarella the Grouch. Just like her brother, except he rocks jeans instead of silk.” Summer smacked her lips. “And looks mighty fine in them too, I might add. So fine I could just nibble his tight little buns like a sausage sandwich. Oops, I already have.”
Cass choked on her tea. “She tries to embarrass me with her sex life with my brother. I refuse to fall for the bait.”
; Ang had to laugh at Cass’s clipped tone. It was hard to imagine her as the fiancée of the swaggering ex-baseball player she’d seen at the bingo hall, but then again, she couldn’t really picture Jax being buddies with Sterling either. Or herself dirty talking to Sterling while he fucked her brainless.
Yeah, her mind was pretty much blown in general lately.
Ang glanced at Summer. “You’re a great singer. You just came back from tour? That must’ve been so exciting.”
“A small tour, comparatively, but—”
“Don’t you run yourself down.” Cass’s scolding voice proved there was another side to her than prim and proper. “You’re going to be huge. Pretty soon everyone will know your name. And God help us all then.” She smiled as she spoke, proving she was teasing.
“See? That’s why I keep her around. Grouches have a core of pure sweetness. It’s a little-known fact.”
Ang stirred her spoon thoughtfully. “Do you consider Sterling a grouch?”
“No. He’s a fuddy-duddy.” Summer plopped back down on the couch and took a hearty drink of her enhanced tea.
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what he could do with his tongue.”
Silence descended, swift and unrelenting.
Ang cleared her throat. “Uh, I mean, he’s silver-tongued. You know, a talented…speaker. Yes. That’s what I meant.”
Cass returned to her tea. “Sure you did.”
Summer giggled and slapped Ang’s thigh. “You go, girl. I know someone who gets a lot of tongue action herself.” She elbowed Cass about as discreetly as an elephant charging through the forest. “Not saying I don’t get plenty of my own, but Chase prefers to—”
“Summer,” Cass warned.
“Oh, God, get over it. So we fuck. It’s a natural thing. You want adorable little nieces and nephews someday, right?”
“Of course I do. I like tiramisu too, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear about them soaking the ladyfingers.”
“Wow, dirty talk from Cass before noon. This must be a record.”
Ang laughed, shaking her head. “You two should take your act on the road.”