by Zoey Parker
Jack’s office was a cramped, ugly mess: overhead fluorescent bar lighting—with the accompanying hum from hell; wood paneling, like your basic 1970s basement; a tall gray metal filing cabinet with papers stacked and unstacked around and on top of it; and a matching desk with fake wood laminate top, likewise covered with paper.
I peered at what was easily visible and saw a lot of spreadsheet tables and tattoo art. Half-buried under all that, there was a keyboard and flat-screen monitor, and a random assortment of paperclips and pencils served as toppings. About the only thing missing was organization.
If the office was any reflection of the man, this was not a good sign. I did the best I could to situate myself comfortably with Peter, using the second chair facing the desk for my load of baby gear. All things considered, we had what we needed for a while, and I settled in to wait.
It took forever. My butt was getting sore, and it was all I could do to keep Peter from fussing every time the tattoo guns fired on. Thankfully, someone had come over soon after we had settled in the office and shut the door behind me, apparently aware that the noises might trigger other, unwelcomed, noises from our direction. So at least there was that barrier, plus some small measure of privacy for me and my little guy.
I took a deep breath and focused back on my baby. No matter what, Peter and I would be okay. We would. We had to be. My baby was a fighter, and had made it this far. We’d get through this, too, one way or another.
I was getting fidgety myself, waiting so long for Jack to show up. I wondered what the issue was. The pixie woman up front had seemed pissed at his absence as well. There was a story there, I was sure. Whatever it was, the man seemed confident that Jack would be showing up at some point, so I resigned myself to bide the time.
But I was getting steamed, myself, even though I knew he had no idea I’d been coming in. Rationally, I had no reason to get so upset. But I was, more and more with each passing minute.
Suddenly, I felt a whoosh at my back, and I could feel a strong presence there. It could only be Jack.
Even though I had yet to lay eyes on this man, his energy radiated in a way that put my whole being on alert. Since Peter was nursing, I forced myself to stay still and calm, but my heart had already started beating faster; this was really, finally, going to happen—now.
And then his voice, deep and strong, boomed at me.
“I don’t know who you are or why you’re here, but you got the wrong guy, lady. Time for you to go. Get the fuck out of my office.”
My jaw dropped and my eyes about popped out of my head, and I was glad he could only see the back of me. This guy sounded downright mean—and scary.
This was Jack? Things were not off to a good start. I could feel the tears begin to burn behind my eyes, and my throat tightened.
I didn’t get up; I couldn’t, really. But my body must have jerked, and Peter had unlatched, and he started to cry. I wasn’t sure what to do: get the baby back onto my nipple, or stand up and face off with the ugly, distempered uncle in our midst.
I decided on the latter.
As gracefully and quickly as I could—and it wasn’t very much of either, with baby in arms—I adjusted my bra and re-settled my top, stood up, and turned to see the man himself.
Jeez, he was huge. Tall, probably six-three or -four—taller than Keith had been by a few inches, I was pretty sure. But also, he was built. Cut. Defined. He probably lived in a gym, when he wasn’t here at the shop. He didn’t look like Schwarzenegger—this was not steroid-big—he more aptly resembled a super-fit linebacker out of uniform. He shared some features with Keith: gorgeous, widely-spaced big blue eyes, strong brow ridge, strong jaw. He had dampened, dark, silky hair that fell over his forehead, ears, and nape. What skin I could see was tanned. His full lips cried to be bitten and licked, and he had a few days’ growth of beard. He looked hot. My panties immediately dampened, and I’m pretty sure I blushed. I couldn’t help it.
Nevertheless, that didn’t negate that he was rude. And wrong. And…and…and rude.
Gah. My brain was not working so well.
“Excuse me, but I don’t think I heard you right. Did you just tell me to get the fuck out of your office, Jack?”
His eyes were covered in shades, so I couldn’t read them for a clear reaction, but I’m pretty sure it was my use of his name that gave him pause. Score one for me.
Peter, by this time, was in a full-on squall. I glared at Jack, grabbed my things from the other chair, shoving a spit blanket and rattle and snot sucker back into the bag one-handed, muttering the whole time. “Jerk, crap, dammit, jerk.”
I slung the bag on my shoulder and turned my attention back to Jack. “For your information, I do not have the wrong guy. You are Jack Edwards? Yes? So, no. I’ve got the right guy. But it seems you are not the guy I thought you would be. This is your nephew, Jack. This is your brother Keith’s baby. I thought you might like to meet him, maybe even get to know him as he grows up.” I broke off, and tears threatened to pour. “If he grows up.”
God, I hated sounding dramatic, but this was our truth. I needed always to be honest about this, to keep myself braced. I fought to keep my voice from choking—but I didn’t stop. “I need your help, Jack—but obviously, you don’t care. Okay. Fine. Keith told me you were a great guy, which, it turns out, is not the case. So, no, I don’t want my son to know you. I’ll find another way, you ass. Congratulations, Jack, you are getting your wish. We’re outta here. And fuck you, too.”
As I said, I was feeling a little bit emotional.
He had backed up enough for me to charge out of his space and I was mid-way through the shop before I realized that I was playing this all wrong. He was right on a majorly important point: he didn’t know me, he’d never seen me before, and I was there at my own instigation. I was there because I needed him—no, Peter needed him—well, in any case, we needed him, and it was my responsibility to slow down, back it up, and get him to hear what I’d come to say.
Jack had had no warning, no indication of our existence up until today, I was pretty sure. Plus, he really needed to meet his nephew. I had to give this—give Jack—a second chance.
I was slowing my pace with each passing step, but I was still on the verge of tears, and that was not how I wanted this to go down. So I kept walking to the front desk, hoping I’d make it out of the shop before I had an absolute breakdown. I figured I’d have myself a little cry, get myself under control, and then go back in for round two.
I didn’t make it out, unfortunately.
The pixie guard upfront watched me as I got closer—she clearly had heard the confrontation, and she saw everything in my face as I made my way up front. Even before I got there, she had grabbed some tissues and came out from behind her counter. As soon as I breached the partition wall, she took hold of my freer upper arm and steered me to the loveseat, gently pushing me down to sit and taking the bag from my shoulder.
“I can’t believe what an asshole he is sometimes.” She looked into my eyes, reassuring me that she was on my side. I was totally confused at this point.
But the tears had already started to rain down my face, and poor Peter was crying so hard from the movement—and I’m sure he could sense my upset as well—so with some embarrassment, I accepted the tissues to wipe my face.
The suddenly-nice pixie pulled a fast one and swept Peter from my arm, settling him comfortably and capably in her own body cradle. She was obviously experienced with babies, somehow, despite the fact that there was nothing about her that might suggest it. She was smiling and cooing at him, giving his rooting mouth the tip of her pinkie finger to suck, and watching his face closely as he closed a tiny fist around it. She looked up at me quickly, and noted my expression of horror.
“Don’t worry, babe. My hands are super clean. I’ve been anti-bacterializing for the past two hours, hoping I’d get a chance to hold your little bugaboo. God, he’s beautiful. Don’t worry!”
That was my cue for a light l
augh. I was relieved, sure, at the drop in anxiety in the room, but also I had a tendency to laugh when nervous. I did not know what I was doing, or how to fix this. So I chuckled, and choked myself a little bit, and watched my boy in this unknown woman’s arms, biting my lower lip and at a complete loss for my next step.
Chapter 3
Jack
My nephew? Keith’s baby? Keith had a child? Wait. Hold on, just a minute. My little brother was a dad. He’d had a son. I could feel my own eyes burning—goddammit, Keith, why did you have to die? And that this woman, this beautiful woman, who was my brother’s baby-mama, the mother to my nephew, should show up here—this week of all times—to present him to me? Fucking hell.
I was not going to cry. I mean, I didn’t do that. There was just something in my eye. I took off my shades and rubbed my face, getting a grip.
Okay, so maybe I jumped the gun with ordering the woman out of my office before hearing her out. I’d own that.
The kid had a loud set of lungs. Apple didn’t fall far, I guessed, presuming the woman wasn’t lying. If that was really Keith’s son. But there was no question in my mind now—I needed more information. I needed more time with her to hear her story, to see if what she said was true.
Could we do a test? I had no idea if that was even possible, to see if this baby was my nephew. I mean, I knew they could do paternity tests, but uncle-ernity? I just had no clue. But it was definitely worth looking into, to find out.
Once I was sure I had gotten my eye problem under control, I looked up front, expecting to see nothing out of the usual, but hoping…ah! She hadn’t left yet. Ha. She didn’t get very far at all, did she? Nope. I could only see the top half of her head, this time looking up with a kind of strange look in her big, brown eyes. It was clear she had been crying, but now there were no tears, and her expression was caught somewhere between wonder, confusion, happiness, and lost.
Trini, on the other hand, looked…maternal and ridiculously happy. Well, that was new. She had the baby in her arms and was smiling and cooing at it, rocking her body to soothe the kid, I guessed. Trini liked babies. Who knew?
I slowly made my way to reception, resettling my sunglasses on my nose to shield the glare from the picture windows. Damn, but my head was still pounding. There was too much going on.
I leaned against the partition wall in the doorway and crossed my arms over my chest, just taking in the blonde on the loveseat. She really was gorgeous. Everything about her was soft-looking. I knew already that she had some backbone, and a good bark when riled. But it was nice to observe this other side for a minute—to see her more relaxed as she gazed at Trini enjoying a moment with the baby.
Her eyes slowly shifted over to me, and there went the moment. She stiffened her spine and stood up, watching me for any indication of a renewed attack. I wasn’t going to give it to her.
“You’re still here,” I said.
“As you see.”
“Maybe we should start over. I’m Jack, as you know. You are…?”
“Oh. Yeah. Um, Ellie. I’m Ellie Garrett.”
Slowly, with trepidation, she made her way forward and took my extended hand briefly, and then everything was suddenly hot.
It was like a lightning bolt had struck between us. My eyes flared, and my body went into automatic pilot. I actually started to get hard, just from that tiny little contact. She dropped my hand too quickly, and her face flushed again. I had noticed it the first time, in my office, but was too busy in my head to really process it then.
I watched her for a second, then looked over at the baby, reminding myself that she was—or rather, might be—the mother of my brother’s baby. Therefore, for what seemed like far too many reasons to count, she was not an option, despite the attraction. And I knew for sure that it was mutual. No way did she not feel that heat with me. But I wouldn’t go there, not with her.
Damn shame.
“Okay, Ellie Garrett, would you like to come back to my office, and we can talk?”
“Yeah, Jack. I’d like that.” She gave me a little smile. Wow. I really liked her smile. I liked what it did to her face. I wanted to see more of that. And I liked hearing my name from her lips. I liked her lips. I liked her voice—soft, a little bit husky, but smooth.
No. This was all wrong. She’d said she needed my help. Well, we’d have to see first about figuring out how to tell if that baby really was Keith’s, and then go from there. Hell, I hoped it wasn’t. I mean, it’s not because I didn’t want to help her. But I couldn’t see a way to spend time with her without wanting her, and if she was Keith’s baby-mama for real, then wanting her was a dead-end, and I wasn’t into self-punishment.
On the other hand, if this really was Keith’s baby, that would be…astounding. Amazing. Incredible, and wonderful. I’d have a little part of my brother, living, breathing, here. It was really too much to process.
I caught myself staring at the baby. I think I’d also been staring at her, at Ellie, too. Good thing I was still wearing my shades. My brain today was really on slo-mo. I glanced back at Ellie. “Well, come on back, then.”
I held the door for her as she gathered her bag and her baby, then followed her back to my desk. Trini actually pouted before she let the kid go. Today was OTT bizarre.
Once she had settled herself in the chair, and I in mine, I just sat there looking at the baby in her arms. Ellie knew I was trying to see Keith in him, but I couldn’t. The kid had dropped off to sleep, and it just looked like a baby—any baby. What the hell did I know about babies? Answer: nothing. They all just looked like babies to me. They were completely interchangeable.
I figured it was time to get things moving.
“Okay, so, here’s the deal. I don’t know you. Keith never said anything to me about you. Sorry, but that’s a fact. Did he know you were pregnant? Did he know about this kid? I think he would have told me. So, how do I know that what you’re saying is true?”
She’d come prepared for this, and that quickly became obvious. “There is a test they can do now to check for uncles and nephews, and it’s so specific, that if it’s positive it usually comes out with a ninety-nine plus percent accuracy rate.”
Whoa. This was interesting.
She went on. “It’s a DNA match specifically targeting the baby’s and uncle’s Y-chromosomes, so they don’t even need my DNA to rule out the mother’s part of the mix. They’ll only be comparing your two Y chromosomes. Yours and little Petey’s.” She was looking down at her baby with a little smile—mother in love—and fortunately missed my grimace.
“Petey? That’s his name? You mean Peter, right? Jeez, Petey.”
She looked back up. “Yes. His name is Peter, but I like Petey, for short. I sometimes call him Petey. He likes it. It fits.” She was getting her back up about it.
“Easy, there, woman. Calm down. Peter is a man’s name. I don’t know what Petey is. I’ll call him Peter, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Fine. You call him Peter. Whatever.”
She side-eyed me and sighed deeply. Damn, that was a nice sound. I liked how it made her chest rise high. Her tits were phenomenal. Well, they would be, I figured. She’s probably nursing, so yeah. But…wow. Nice. Really, really nice. I wanted to bury my face in her cleavage, to weigh and massage her breasts in the palms of my hands, to tweak her nipples and taste her skin…
“…so if you can afford it, we can get right on that, we just need to order the kit and…”
I tore my eyes away from her chest. “Wait, wait, what? I kind of missed some of that.”
She smirked. “My eyes are up here, dude.” She gestured to her face with her free hand.
“Can I help it if I was admiring a beautiful thing?”
“Oh, and he’s a charmer, too. It’s my lucky day.”
“Maybe it is, baby.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her, and she blushed some more and looked down—and then I cursed myself again. I had no business flirting with this woman, especially if she was the
mother of Keith’s baby. Damn, I had to get myself under control.
Getting back to the point, I repeated, “So we do this test first, right? You okay with that?”
She didn’t look thrilled—I got the feeling there was something more she wasn’t telling me—but she nodded shortly and directed me to a website for the testing lab.
After placing the online order, I didn’t let her off the hook. Leaning back in my chair, I leveled my eyes on her across the desk. “So, what aren’t you telling me?”
She looked surprised, like she thought she was being sly and that I wouldn’t have noticed. She had a lot to learn about me. I didn’t get played. If she thought she could fool me, she had another thing coming.
“I…I don’t know what you mean…” She fidgeted with the baby blanket, which didn’t need adjusting. The kid had fallen asleep.