JARED (Lane Brothers Book 4)

by Kristina Weaver

  My brother is so much better that most days I have trouble remembering his problems, and my husband is a good man. He may not be into emotional sharing and everything the heart entails, but he’s kind and caring and makes me happier than I have any right to be.

  And now I have a baby on the way!

  My heart explodes with happiness all of a sudden, and I jump up, toppling my chair with a whoop and a smile that makes Brit follow suit, clapping her hands like a schoolgirl.

  “Oh, Ash, go on and go tell your guy the good news. Can I start calling the girls, or…?”

  “Give me an hour to tell him, and then you can go batty and tell everyone you want,” I say, kissing her at the door before bolting for my car.

  Good things come to those who work for them, Mom had always said, and know what? I’m finally starting to get that.

  ***

  Luc

  This morning… I can’t even begin to understand what this morning had been about, but I think my baby may have started her period and is feeling the effects of some really bad PMS.

  Benjamin had been laughing his arse off in the car, the whole way to school, even as he turned and walked backward, his eyes still locked on my shell-shocked face.

  “She’s got one mean temper, Luc. I told ya, didn’t I?” he’d said around a few chuckles that had grated on my already stressed nerves.

  Yesterday, after a long afternoon spent thinking, with not a scrap of work getting done, I’d faced a few very bad home truths about myself, my plans, and our past.

  I’ve been wronging her on so many levels since I’d strong-armed my way into her life that I cannot even begin to understand why the woman hasn’t killed me in my sleep.

  I owe her an apology, a few very lengthy explanations, and three very important words that I should have given her a long time ago.

  I’m no good with talking or sharing myself, though, and I bloody well know it, so I’ve decided that showing her will go down a lot better than my terse words and uncomfortable silences ever will.

  “Mr Jasper, your wife is here to see you, sir.”

  “Send her in.”

  I’m surprised and a little put out at her sudden arrival. She’s never shown a scrap of interest in my business and has never come here after leaving that night all those months ago, so I know that whatever has brought her here must be really important.

  “Love, what’s wrong?” I ask as soon as she’s in the door.

  She ignores me totally and flings herself at me, her eyes shining with tears even as she laughs and kisses me to silence.

  “Nothing, Luc, absolutely nothing. Everything is just perfect,” she whispers, kissing me lingeringly before pulling me to the seating area and pushing me down.

  “I need to tell you something. Just don’t freak out, okay?”

  Well, now I’m really feeling anxious as she bites her lips uncertainly and reaches into her bag and hands me a small plastic—

  “When?” I breathe, not moving a muscle when I realize what she’s given me and what this means.

  “This morning, after I upchucked half my stomach and liver,” she says, laughing at my open mouth and startled eyes.

  The shock and elation are so great that I can do nothing but stare at the stick, recalling the fact that she’d been awake and dressed before I’d even woken—something unheard of, since Ashley is not a morning person—and the unhealthy pallor of her skin as she’d cooked breakfast before almost killing me with the scalding hot frying pan.

  It all made sense now. Her mood, the way she’d lit into Benjamin when before she would keep calm no matter what the lad said or did.

  My poor little love is pregnant and ill and…I’m going to be a father, I realize, turning my eyes up to her. My eyes are wet and misty, but I can’t find the will to give a fuck about showing her this weakness, not now, when everything I’ve aimed for has finally slid into place.

  With my child in her, I finally have that insurance that my cold heart needs to feel secure. She’s mine now. Forever. No matter what happens or how much I mess up, Ashley and I will always be connected by the child we’ve created.

  “Oh, love, you’re…”

  “Well, duh, Mr Tycoon, you already told me you were putting him there. Why so surprised?” she asks, laughing when I pull her down onto my lap and kiss the hell out of her smiling mouth.

  “Are you happy, love?” I ask minutes later when she pushes me away for air.

  I can’t say why her answer is so important to me, since I really can’t say I’d give a shit if she’s happy or not. I’ve always wanted my baby in her, and that’s exactly what I have.

  It’s not like I’d ever have given her a choice, since I’m still the controlling dick I’ve always been.

  But for some reason I’m hoping that she’s as happy to have part of me in her as I am to know that it’s there.

  “Again, duuuh. Of course I’m stoked. I love babies…well, most babies…oh, all right, I like the thought of us having a baby!” she titters, grinning back up at me. “Just think, in nine months we’re gonna see if human and alien DNA can in fact create a semi-normal life form.”

  “Ha bloody ha. You’re a regular riot, aren’t you. Now shut up and kiss me so we can go tell the bleeding world.”

  Our lips are a hair’s breadth apart when a screaming, jumping, clapping bundle of pure terror comes storming in and launches herself at us, almost unmanning me in the process.

  “You bloody beautiful bastards! I can’t believe you went and got Brit to buy you that test. What ever happened to bloody loyalty, you traitorous baggage!” she yells, squeezing us both so hard I’m forced to give her a shove to save the life of my wife and unborn child.

  “Get off, you barmy cow, she’s not a trampoline,” I mutter, fighting the urge to laugh when she starts bouncing around like an excited puppy instead of the sophisticated woman I’ve come to love.

  “But she’s smuggling my next nephew, Luc! Just look at her! Isn’t she glowing?”

  “I’m pretty sure she looks a little pale and green,” I say steadily, giving off a resigned sigh when Brody comes running in and grabs her up after pounding a bloody hole into my back.

  “Congratulations, you gorgeous minx. Can I see the kid?”

  This moment right here is when I know that, despite every plan and strategy, despite the seven years of hatred and vengeful musings I’d entertained, Ashley has always been and will always be that one and only I’d stopped believing in a long time ago.

  This is all so messy and emotional and way too out of my depth for real comfort, but when I look down at her smiling face and watch my sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law fawning over her like she’s royalty, well, I know that I wouldn’t change one bloody thing.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  The family dinner I’d planned and hired caterers for has morphed into something I’m not capable of adequately describing. Luc, thanks to his prideful arrogance, has taken up space at the bar and is regaling his menfolk with tales of his completely calm and manly response after learning about the baby.

  I don’t have the heart to blow his cover and tell them all that he’d teared up like a freaking girl at the waxing room door when I’d given him the stick, but I have every intention of teasing the shit out of him as soon as they all leave—which, looking at Cammy and The Goldens and their own men, is not gonna be anytime soon.

  At least one good thing has come of having a house full of disgustingly happy guests: I get to sit back and enjoy a guilt-free party that hasn’t been catered by myself, and my brattish stomach has finally settled.

  Of course, I’ve had to watch these pigs stuff themselves with some of my favorite foods while I’m forced to chew on a piece of cardboard and chug flat ginger ale.

  But everyone’s happy, and for once I feel like maybe things are finally going to start going my way. I mean, Lucian has to so totally fall in love with me again. He’d looked too overwhelmed at the news that I am carrying his kid.r />
  Plus, well, I’m feeling really positive about things, especially since Ben has taken our news with such enthusiasm and excitement.

  So yeah, feeling really good about shit.

  “I’ll get it,” I mutter when the doorbell rings just as I’m coming back from the bathroom.

  No one hears, thanks to the din of voices and the soft music playing in the background, so I shuffle to the door and pull it open, expecting to see Frank or one of the other security guys, since no one can just show up at the door without going through a freaking twenty step clearance check.

  What I see when I open the door makes me rethink my casual approach to things—yeah, yeah, maybe Luc is right about me needing to be more careful.

  A young girl is standing on the doorstep, her long brown hair a bedraggled mess as she shivers in the late night chill.

  “Hello.”

  Well, what the heck else am I supposed to say? The kid can’t be anything past six, if her small stature is anything to go by, and she’s so wafer-thin and poorly dressed it’s a miracle she’s not turning blue in this weather.

  “Hello, Mum, I’m sorry to disturb, but may I please speak to a Mr Jasper?”

  Check this kid out! Her diction is better than mine was at sixteen, and she’s sporting an accent that reminds me of that kid from Harry Potter, Hermione something… I can’t remember.

  “Uh, sure. Um, how did you get through the gates?” I ask, opening the door to let her inside and out of the rising wind.

  She looks up at me with a set of wise, sad eyes and shrugs.

  “I came through the trees, Mum.”

  Oookaaay.

  “Um, you look cold. I should get you a jacket? And….where are your parents? How… Are you lost?”

  “No, Mum, this is the right address,” she says quietly, giving me a slight smile that’s setting off alarm bells in my head.

  Something about this kid is just weird, and yeah, I know that sounds like me being a bitch, but I can’t help it. She’s come out of nowhere, dressed like a street urchin, and is looking at me so calmly I feel myself pause and look closer.

  “What’s your name, sweetheart?” I ask, stalling a bit.

  For some reason I really don’t want to go into the living room to get Luc, almost as if some strange sixth sense has taken hold and is screaming at me to hold on to whatever happiness I’ve had because shit is about to hit the proverbial fan.

  “Madeline Barker.”

  “Can you tell me what you’re doing here in the middle of the night and all alone, honey? It’s awful late and cold out there to be wandering around without your mom or dad.”

  Her smile, when it comes, knocks the breath right out of my lungs, and I hold up a hand and pull her into the study, wrapping a blanket around her scrawny shoulders before taking a deep breath and walking out to the living room.

  “Lucian, I need you for a second,” I say quietly when my shaky legs finally get me across the room.

  My tone must be telling, because he nods immediately and follows me out, waving off Brody’s suggestive wink as I take a deep breath and push him into the study.

  My eyes never leave his face, not once after I close and lock the door, pointing at the sofa and the almost invisible bundle sitting there.

  “What’s wrong, love? What’s going on?”

  I walk over to the sofa and lower the blanket from around her head, being careful to keep her thin arms tightly wrapped beneath the warmth of the blanket.

  “Here he is, honey.”

  She looks back at him and smiles, breaking my heart even as I feel myself wanting to laugh for the obviousness.

  “Hello, Daddy.”

  Chapter Twenty Six

  “Hello, Daddy.”

  I’m not as shocked by those two words as you would think.

  Like I said, that smile had told me more than I wanted to know about why I’d opened my front door to find a raggedy waif, alone on my doorstep.

  Lucian’s face is wide open for the first time, something I’d never thought to see, and what I do see here is complete shock and devastation. I can hardly breathe as I split my gaze between the two of them, watching the byplay as they inspect each other silently.

  “Who are you?” he breathes, taking one step closer before pausing at the arm of the couch.

  The girl doesn’t say anything, just sits there quietly, her shoulders scrunched up and tense, waiting for I don’t know what.

  Now, I could be the classic evil stepmother here and totally freak out, because inside I am so totally freaking out, but the kid, well, she’s not to blame for whatever the hell is going on, and the poor thing looks half-starved and frozen.

  “Her name is Madeline Barker,” I say when she doesn’t answer, just stares at him like she’s seeing her first Barbie doll.

  I watch his face for any signs of recognition and get my answer when he closes his eyes and lets out a tortured groan.

  “Uh, why don’t we leave your…Luc, and go get you something to eat?” I ask, floundering but determined to do something good while my husband has a nervous breakdown.

  No, I’m not too thrilled to have his love child show up at my door to meet her father for the first time, and you’d better believe I’m taking a chunk outta his ass later, but right now I’m working on mommy mode, and the kid needs some comfort as much as I need to get the heck out of the room to collect myself.

  “Come on, Maddy, let’s go feed you and get you bathed and dressed. You look like you could use something warm and pink.”

  Her little face, that cute feminine version of Luc’s, tells me she would rather stay exactly where she is, but at a nod from him she crawls out from beneath her blanket and takes my hand, looking up at me uncertainly.

  “Luc,” I whisper, pausing at the door to see my usually cool-headed husband still frozen in shock.

  “I need to make a few calls, love.”

  His voice is raspy, and I notice he hasn’t met my eyes once, keeping his head down and his face hidden from me.

  “We still have guests, Luc.”

  “Ah, yes, I’ll…I’ll take care of them,” he mutters. “Ash.”

  I pause at the door, keeping my back turned, and smile down at Madeline, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

  “Later. We’ll talk later,” I say, pulling her out and closing the door with a soft snick.

  I need time, or a large shot of something strong, before I can safely beard that lion’s den and get the answers my stunned brain hasn’t yet been capable of asking.

  I’m still stuck on that smile and the completely serious expression I’d seen on her face, the very same one that’s been staring at me for all these months.

  The one that’s been driving me crazy because I can’t tell what he’s thinking, no matter how hard I look. This kid is his carbon copy…

  “How old are you, honey?” I ask after seating her at the counter and getting to work on a ham and cheese sandwich and a cup of milky tea.

  “Six and a half, Mum.”

  “Oh, call me Ash, I’m not…well, anyway, how did you get here, honey? It’s awfully dark and cold out. You must have been pretty creeped out if you had to come through the trees in the dark.”

  I know I would have been terrified and screaming hysterical. I’ve been there. But the little cutie just smiles around a huge bite of sandwich and shakes her head.

  “I’m not afraid of the dark M—Ash. I prefer it.”

  I nod and keep my mouth shut as she attacks the sandwich like a starving animal, her little throat bulging when she swallows half-chewed bread and glugs it all down with the luke warm tea I made.

  The kid is literally starving. She’s eating so fast, and I feel the first stirrings of unholy anger unfurling in me, replacing the shock with the need to hurt whoever had let her go without food and proper clothing.

  “Thank you, Ash.”

  I just smile and push another sandwich her way, slowing her down when she tries to lay into it with the same ve
racity as before.

  “You’re most welcome, honey. Um, can you tell me how you got here? Who brought you? And…”

  “Aunt Carrie. She said my daddy would take care of me now that mummy’s gone.”

  “Uh, gone?”

  Please don’t tell me your mom’s dead, kid, please just do not say it. It’s downright pathetic for me to think, but I’m not sure what’ll happen if this kid’s mother is out of the picture.

  That would mean one thing and one thing only. I’ll be mother to two kids and pregnant and…it’s damn near killing me to think of her age, and doing the math on that is making my stomach lurch in a way that hurts. If she’s six and a half, that means—

  “They’ve gone. I told them you were unwell.”

  Taking a deep, fortifying breath, I look up at him and take in the closed down expression he’s managed to wrestle back into place. He’s not as cool as he’d like to pretend, though, because his knuckles are white where they’re wrapped around the chair he’s standing behind, almost as if he’s using it to keep himself up.

  Goddammit, I want to go over there and soothe whatever it is he’s feeling, an emotion I do not welcome right now, not with all these unanswered questions and the sinking feeling that’s taken up residence in my chest.

  “Um, are you done, honey? I think we should get you bathed and into bed. You look beat.”

  The kid nods once and gets up to put her dishes in the sink before taking my hand back in hers and letting me lead her past Luc and up the stairs.

  I take twenty minutes to bathe her, wash the leaves and dirt from her silky hair, and dress her in some of Ben’s smaller clothes. She’s out as soon as her head hits the pillow, with a trust possessed only by the young and envied by most adults the world over.

  I sure wish I felt that trusting or calm, I think, leaving the door open a crack and making my way downstairs on wooden legs. When I get to the kitchen Luc’s hunched at the table, staring sightlessly down into a tumbler of amber whiskey, his shoulders tense and signaling the turmoil his face won’t show.