by Taryn Quinn
My eyes pricked and I bowed my head. God, if I was knocked up, Kellan probably wouldn’t want a thing to do with me. That might be for the best—though it sure didn’t feel that way—but what about the baby? I’d helped to bring another life into the world and now my child wasn’t going to get to know his or her father. Worse, he or she might grow up thinking bad things about him just as Kellan had about his own.
The cycle was repeating again.
Mrs. McGuire stepped closer and stroked my back. That was enough to open the floodgates.
“Why did you love Kellan’s father?” I whispered.
Kellan’s mother left her hand on my back. “Because he was electric,” she said finally, and I had to nod.
I understood that all too well.
“He wasn’t looking for a home and family. I don’t suppose I was either, but I took to it better than he did.”
“You didn’t have a choice.”
“Sure, I did. You always have a choice, honey. No matter what.” She shrugged. “I loved my babies, and he did too in his own way. He loved me too. It just wasn’t enough to keep a household going, but he gave me a lifetime of memories.” She smiled faintly, shaking the snow off her hair. “He adds to that memory bank when he blows through town. He’s a long-haul truck driver now. Still plays guitar now and then. Nothing like our boy though.” Pride laced her tone.
“Guitar. Of course.” So many of the pieces were fitting into place. I just wished Kellan had told me himself.
He’d started to that night in bed in California, but I was greedy for so much more.
“Kellan always thought he was more like John than he really is. They’re so different. Kellan started looking out for Bethy when he was a youngster himself. He guarded her like a pit bull. Made sure she got her afternoon snack and that no one was bothering her at school and helped her with her homework. To be honest, he was more of a parent to his sister than I was in those days. He was so good at it too. His problem isn’t that he doesn’t care, Maggie.” She rubbed the small of my back. “It’s that he cares so much that he’s afraid to take the risk.”
The ache in my throat had grown as I listened to her speak. What she was saying wasn’t a revelation. Not really. It was what I’d felt down deep despite the lack of concrete evidence.
My intuition had guided me when it came to Kellan. I simply couldn’t have been that wrong about a man twice. I didn’t believe it. Just as I didn’t truly believe I could fall that quickly for someone who wasn’t worthy of my love. Even if he wasn’t sure he wanted it.
I blinked as a memory flashed through my mind of us in the shower that last morning. How he’d begun to tell me something until I’d shushed him. I’d been so desperate to keep our protective bubble intact a little while longer.
What if he’d been trying to tell me who he really was?
He played music for a living, and he was so incredibly talented that I couldn’t help watching him in all those grainy clips with a lump in my throat. Not because I was miserable. Well, that too.
Mainly because I was proud. He was so gifted, and he deserved to know I felt that way. I couldn’t wait to see him perform live and to sing all his songs along with him—and yes, I now knew all the words. I wasn’t mad at him for chasing his dreams.
I was hurt he hadn’t shared them with me so we could chase them together.
“Maggie? Are you okay?” Mrs. McGuire asked gently.
No, not really. But I was going to be.
I made myself focus on Kellan’s mother. “I realize you aren’t aware what occurred between us. I was in the process of trying to forget myself when the smell of tomatoes started making me want to hurl.” I held up a hand as Mrs. McGuire tried to interject. “Let’s just say we had a brief relationship that included some mistruths on his end and him finally coming clean before I left. I flew back from California two weeks ago and his only contact since then was a text claiming he’s sorry. Now he’s told you he probably loves me, and I can’t decide what is more painful—that he has to use a qualifier on his supposed feelings for me or that he feels guilty enough to send you to check on me, but won’t make the effort himself.”
“Oh sweetheart, I’m sure he will once he can get away. His job is so stressful. He can’t just get up and leave.”
“No, and I could try to understand that if he would tell me himself. If he would just say how he’s feeling or hell, if he’s feeling at all. I gotta tell you, that whole probably thing isn’t easing my concerns. Not when my pants are already getting tighter.”
“But didn’t you hear what I said? He’s scared to care. Scared to reach out. His father hurt him. I’m afraid I did too, unintentionally.”
I blew out a breath. I was concerned I’d done the same with my thoughtless comments about his rockstar persona. But he’d started the ball rolling by not being honest about who he was from the get-go. And until he told me why he’d behaved that way, all I could do was guess.
Unfortunately, with my past, none of my guesses were pretty.
“Oh, I heard you,” I said softly. “Every single word. I get being scared. I’m about two breaths away from a panic attack myself.” I dashed the tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. “I don’t think Kellan’s a bad person. That doesn’t mean he’s going to allow himself to be the man he could be. I don’t know if he’s ready, and I have to be. My baby deserves two parents who love him or her. He or she deserves everything, even if that means I have to be both mommy and daddy.”
Mrs. McGuire gazed at me, her throat working. Then she wrapped me in her arms, cupping my head in her hand while I cried on her shoulder like a dummy.
A dummy who was in love with a rockstar who probably loved her.
A dummy who was probably pregnant with said rockstar’s baby and didn’t know if her parents would disown her or worse, because she hadn’t even dared to think overmuch about their reaction yet.
I’d been too focused on Kellan. Always Kellan.
I was almost certain if he told me in person that he was sorry, I would believe him. I wanted it to be true so badly that my heart would decide it was. Just like that stupid, traitorous organ had decided it made total sense to fall in love with a stranger in a matter of days.
The same heart that loved him even still.
17
Kellan
This was it.
This trip was supposed to lead me toward winning back Maggie’s heart—if I’d ever had it in the first place. If I hadn’t, I was going to devise a plan to get her to fall in love with me.
You know, no big deal. Just another day in the salt mines.
Getting ditched at the airport, however, didn’t make for an auspicious start.
I opened the unlocked door to my mother’s house and walked inside, stomping the snow off my boots. “Hello?”
No answer. Nor had there been one when I called my mom to pick me up at the damn airport. I’d ended up taking a cab and paying out the ass. All I knew was my mother had bailed as my ride after I’d made sure she could come get me so I wouldn’t waste any more time getting to Maggie.
It had taken three days to deal with the planned press and studio time on the docket, not to mention to book a flight, and I still had a rehearsal to get back for in two days. We had a big concert on Friday night. Not arena-sized, but big for us.
I couldn’t bail. A band might be able to get by without one of its two guitarists for a night, but the lead singer was an entirely different animal. I couldn’t ditch my band unless it was life or death. As the lead singer, I had certain responsibilities.
Whether I’d wanted to admit it before or not, I took my responsibilities seriously. Always had and always would. Which made me a lot less like my father than I’d given myself credit for in the past.
Thanks, Lila.
The talk with my manager had helped me screw my head back on straight. Following it up with a chat with my mom had just emphasized what I was already beginning to understand.
I
wasn’t my father, and I wasn’t going to use him as an excuse for shitty behavior any longer.
I’d finally made it back across the country. With every passing hour, my urgency to talk to Maggie increased. No matter how much I’d told myself I wasn’t the best man for her, I knew down deep where I was beyond arguments and logic that she was the best person for me. Now I just had to become worthy of her. One way or another.
First I had to figure out where my mom had disappeared to.
Glancing around for a note, I stepped into the living room and nearly groaned. It was as if my longing had made Maggie materialize.
She was asleep on my mother’s couch, her long dark hair draped over the arm, her hands curled under her cheek like a child. She was so fucking beautiful. I’d missed her as much as if someone had ripped out a vital appendage and left a hole behind.
Relief surged through me, drowning out every concern and objection I’d had left. My gut couldn’t be wrong about her. I’d trusted it before, and I’d trust it now too. My only hope was she could learn to trust me as well.
I dropped my bag and worked on hinging my jaw back in place before I crossed the room. I tried to rein myself in. Really, I did. But God, I had to touch her. I crouched beside her and brushed a hand over the dark silk of her hair as my heartbeat stampeded in my ears.
Her eyes opened, surprise filtering through them, followed by something akin to happiness. What followed behind it? Fury. The blinding kind that had her pushing me backward with both hands on my chest until I actually fell back on the rug so she could pounce. She straddled me, and it was not for sex.
More like she was using her hips to hold me down while she rained blows over my chest and arms and anywhere else she could reach.
“Didn’t you do enough already? Didn’t you? Now you come back here without warning me, without giving me time to prepare—” She continued hitting me, and for a small girl, her fists freaking hurt. “I asked you a question. Didn’t you? Answer me, you bastard!”
I let her get out most of her anger—and boy, she had a lot. It was truly impressive. Once I sensed her weakening, I reached up to grab her arms and gathered them at the small of her back, sitting up so we were nose to nose. Then I did what any guy would who’d just been attacked by the crazy woman he loved.
I kissed her.
She let out a startled oomph as I slanted my mouth over hers, so eager for a taste that I didn’t try to soften her up for my advances. I should have, because she deserved that and more, but fuck, fighting with her got me even hotter than I was for her to start with. I’d reached my boiling point plus some.
I licked my way between her lips, teasing her tongue with mine. She definitely didn’t respond in kind right away. But the flex of her wrists in my hold just made me more determined to remind her what we were together. What we’d been from the very start.
“Red,” I murmured, and her eyes flashed open, the blue hazed with rage and lust.
An expression that I knew matched my own.
At least the lust part. The rage? Not so much. Hard to be angry when you’re so goddamn grateful you can’t breathe.
I had her back in my arms again. Exactly where she belonged.
“I’ve missed you,” I said softly.
Her eyes narrowed. “Probably?”
I rocked my hips, driving my rigid cock between her legs. “No probably here, baby.”
“Oh, horny miss me. Got it. Well, thanks, but I have a vibrator that doesn’t piss me off half as much as you do.”
As soon as I released her wrists, she started to climb off me. So I gripped her thigh to keep her still for another moment.
“I wasn’t hard for you when I saw you. I just fucking missed you, okay? But you climb on a guy who’s already crazy for you and hey, things happen.” I dropped my gaze pointedly to her breasts, swelling against her blue sweater. “Hard nipples, case in point. And you wanted to kill me.”
Why I wasn’t completely sure. I understood she was pissed at me after my lies. I fully deserved her anger and more. But she seemed ready to fillet my ass and serve it as a garnish for her steak dinner.
“Want,” she corrected, halfway off me and half on. “And my nipples get hard from a breeze now, so whatever.”
With that kind of a lead-in, I didn’t expect her to let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m annoyed as hell at you for about ten different reasons, but I guess I might as well get off while you’re here.”
Before I could so much as catch my breath, she hauled off her thin sweater, revealing the pink sweetheart bra that barely seemed capable of holding in her tits.
Fuck. Me.
But she didn’t keep going. She just pursed her lips and stared down at me, hair all wild around her head, cheeks blazing. Nipples so tight beneath her bra that I was practically quivering. If she so much as moved against me, I was going to lose it.
“Your mother invited me over for dinner tonight and then had to run out for some sudden thing, but she didn’t want me to leave. Was this all a set-up? Did she invite me here to meet you?”
I leaned back on my elbows in a vain effort to get some more air into my lungs. Maggie was such a frigging knockout. “I’m guessing that, yes, it was, but not at my direction. I had no idea you were going to be here. I’m happy as hell you are though. I intended to contact you as soon as I was in town. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.”
Her forehead wrinkled adorably and she crossed her arms, which only plumped up her breasts even more. “For sex?”
“Can you ask me that question when I’m not looking at the hottest pair of tits I’ve ever seen? I’m dealing with severe blood diversion here.”
Ducking her head, she smiled slightly and my entire world shifted. What had been okay, even living well, two months ago was now just drudgery. I wanted that smile in my life. I wanted to wake up to it every day. Hell, I even liked when she attacked me and took me to task. Nothing would ever be boring with her, and I couldn’t think of a solid reason why we shouldn’t be together.
Okay, yes, I could. Half a dozen of them, starting with the living on opposite coasts thing and ending with the small fact that I was a musician and she was a college student with multiple jobs and a family and a busy life right where she was. She didn’t have room for me in her world, and making room for her in mine would be difficult because of the distance and our conflicting schedules. But I wanted to make it work.
“I deserve an orgasm,” she declared, and I nodded without hesitation.
Yes, she did. I’d happily deliver five of them without stopping to breathe.
“I was miserable when I came over for dinner tonight, and the bright spot in my day was spending time with your mom. She’s still so sweet to me. Even after everything.”
“Of course, she is.” I frowned. “Why shouldn’t she be?”
“But we’d barely gotten through the door before she showed me all the food she’d made for me and took off, citing this supposed emergency. It wasn’t anything for me to worry about and she wanted me to stick around. Then you show up, and you don’t expect me to be here. Seems a little suspicious.”
“What it seems like is that she’s playing matchmaker.” I leaned up to ease her bra strap down and kissed the curve of her shoulder. She shuddered as if I’d touched her with a live wire. “We shouldn’t let her down.”
“What did she tell you about the other night?” She turned her head away, offering me access to her neck, and I nipped her there, basking in her sigh of pleasure as if I’d been deprived for a lifetime.
It felt like twice that long.
“Not much. That you’d talked and you were okay. I could tell there was more she wasn’t saying.”
“Understatement,” Maggie muttered.
“I wanted to come home right away, but there was stuff going on and I couldn’t leave immediately. So I started figuring out the soonest I could get back here.”
“You’re needed there. It’s your responsibility.” He
r mouth trembled. “A responsibility you are determined to fulfill.”
At first I thought she was making fun of me, but as I studied her expression, I realized she wasn’t. She worried her lower lip between her teeth and averted her gaze, avoiding mine.
“I have responsibilities to my band, yeah. We had press stuff planned and if I bailed, it would throw stuff into chaos. My mom assured me she was okay. You too. If something is wrong—” I didn’t finish the statement.
I couldn’t. The idea of something being wrong with Maggie was so abhorrent that my throat sealed shut.
Had my mother lied to me? Maggie certainly appeared whole and vital, but something was off with her. I couldn’t place what.
You barely know her. Problem number one.
Swallowing audibly, she nodded. “She told me how you asked her to check on me.”
The back of my neck heated. I rubbed it and the warmth grew. Jesus, were my ears pink? How embarrassing.
“Yeah, uh, I was thinking about you all the time. I didn’t like how we’d left things.”
“Hmm.”
“As much as I missed you, I kept telling myself it was probably for the best.”
“Probably,” she said, shaking her head.
“But logic doesn’t mean shit. I don’t know how we can make it work, and maybe we can’t. But if we quit before we even give it a chance—”
“I’m pregnant.”
I didn’t reply. I wasn’t even sure I was still conscious. Why did it seem like I was floating down a tunnel? Was that a white light I saw in the distance?
But she just kept talking without my input.
“Your mom found me in the bathroom of Pizza Uno, barfing my brains out. By then it was dry heaves since I couldn’t keep food down. The internet said it’s rare to have nausea before six weeks. The internet lied.” She let out a half laugh, half sob, rubbing her wrist under her nose. “I tried to tell her it’s a bug. I was still hoping, but I had three pregnancy tests in my bag to take later. Of course, I’m sure Derek already thinks it’s his, thanks to that nosy Lance at the drugstore, but he hasn’t contacted me yet. Thank God.”