Sex & The Single Dad_Single Dad Club_Book Three

by Emma Nichols

  I shook my head, my eyes wide.

  “Because you alive. Because you got a chance to fix things. Because you can buy Lauryn the best doctors. Because…most of all…you a flawed man, but you got a good heart or I wouldn’t waste a second on you. Got it?” His brow furrowed while he waited for my response.

  My nostrils flared as I tried to control my emotions. I swallowed hard. “You think I’m a good man?”

  He grinned. “I do. You also a stupid man, but hey, let’s focus on the positive.” DeSean clapped me on the shoulder. “Now don’t go doing anything stupid like trying to prove me wrong. I’m a third degree black belt. I could end your life, drop you in the desert, and no one would find you.” He grinned.

  I chuckled nervously. “Wait. Are you serious?”

  “Do you really want to find out?” He winked and jerked his head toward the door.

  When I looked, I realized it was open and a teenage girl was standing there staring at me wide-eyed. I cleared my throat and took a few steps closer. She shifted and I could see a sleeping baby in her arms. I licked my lips. This was Ripley. Without thinking, I wandered closer, drawn by the desire to see him. I’d made this baby with the only woman I’d ever loved. I could barely breathe.

  “Tradd Beckett?” the girl asked incredulously.

  “Yes.” My voice trembled. I took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, I am.”

  “What are you doing here?” She eyed me curiously and glanced at DeSean, who stood beside me, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Lauryn,” I choked out. I raised my hands to cover my face. I could barely speak the words.

  “What about Lauryn?” She unlocked the screen door separating us and flung it open.

  I couldn’t speak. I simply shook my head and stuffed my hands in my pockets while I stared at the ground.

  “She was in a car accident.” DeSean took a step closer. “I’m Mr. Beckett’s bodyguard.”

  “Okay, but why are you both here?” She cradled Ripley who seemed to be waking up as he moved in his blanket and made squeaking noises.

  I glanced up at him and watched in awe.

  “Tradd is the boy’s father. He came to pick him up and take him to the hospital.” DeSean pushed me forward.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Lauryn never mentioned the name of Ripley’s father.”

  “Show her the birth certificate,” DeSean urged as he backhanded my chest.

  “It’s in the car,” I mumbled. I couldn’t take my eyes off my son.

  “Dammit, Tradd.” He groaned. “I’ll go get it.”

  I wanted to hold Ripley, even though the idea of having something that small in my arms scared the hell out of me. I needed for this to feel real because, at the moment, I was in some fucked up nightmare. So, I stood there with my hands in my pockets looking like an idiot and I didn’t care. I didn’t feel like Tradd Beckett, the rock god. I was Lauryn’s ex, the deadbeat dad and serial idiot.

  All of a minute later, DeSean returned with the birth certificate in hand. He opened it and held it for the babysitter to examine. “Lauryn is unconscious. We knew you were here and came to relieve you. Tradd will take care of the baby until Lauryn has recovered.” He gestured for her to pass me the baby.

  I started to object, but when I caught sight of his death glare, I held out my arms and waited for the girl to deposit the baby in my arms.

  “Have you ever even held a baby before?” She frowned. “Lauryn mentioned you a few times. I mean, I didn’t know it was you. She talked about his dad.”

  “What’d she say?” My face softened. She had spoken about me. I wasn’t completely forgotten.

  “She said the father didn’t know she was even pregnant. She said she didn’t think he was ready for this kind of responsibility. She never thought she’d see him…you again.” The girl scowled at me. “How do I know this isn’t a kidnapping?”

  With a groan, DeSean grumbled, “You don’t. All I can tell you is I’m a father and I’d never steal anyone’s baby. And you know who this dumbass is.”

  The girl snickered. When I shot her a look, she sobered. “Sorry.”

  “My point is, we’re not exactly trying to be stealthy about this, which we’d have to be if we were kidnapping the little guy, right?” He shrugged. “I mean, this guy’s schedule is all over the Internet. He lives a very public life.”

  Her head tilted. “True.”

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a business card and passed it to her. “This is my information. You have it. Call the number right now if you want to be sure I’m not trying to get something over on you.”

  She hesitated.

  “Go on,” he urged. “I ain’t got all day. And I don’t want you all racked with guilt. Call me.”

  She reluctantly pulled her phone from her pocket, punched in the number, and soon his phone was ringing. DeSean lifted it to show her the screen with her number on it.

  “We good?” He stared grimly at her.

  She nodded. “Yes.” Then she gestured for us to follow her inside. “I guess I should show you where everything is.”

  We followed her inside, and while DeSean immediately set to work gathering what we needed and packing up Ripley for an indefinite period of time, I wandered around the house checking out the life Lauryn had built without me. The place was neat, clean. The place looked…homey, warm, cozy. She had pictures in frames around the room, but none of me, or us. All Ripley, or Lauryn and Ripley. I knew how small her world was before me, which was why she was able to take off on tour. Apparently, she had returned to the small circle she’d known before.

  “You live near here?” I asked the sitter when she returned to the room with a box of diapers.

  She nodded and pointed at the house across the street. “Nice and convenient.”

  “Does Lauryn have a lot of friends?” I gnawed on my lip and immediately regretted my question. “I just mean….”

  “There are no guys in her life, if that’s what you mean.” The girl stuck her chin out in a show of loyalty and support. “She doesn’t seem to have anyone. Just Ripley.”

  I nodded, both saddened and relieved. “I see.”

  Soon, the little guy in my arms started fussing and I looked to the sitter and DeSean for help.

  “When did he last eat?” DeSean asked her.

  “A couple of hours ago.” She glanced at the clock. “Eight in the evening. It’s time for his last feeding of the night. Lauryn said he sleeps about six hours after this feed.”

  “How do you know so much?” I asked her, feeling even more insignificant and out of touch than before.

  The girl sighed. “She would get upset if she came home after this feeding because of an event. She said he’d sleep until at least two in the morning and she missed rocking him.”

  My head hung. She was rushing home to him when the accident happened. Dammit. I ruined everything.

  The girl passed me a bottle she’d prepared in the kitchen. “Here.”

  I stared at it.

  “Ever fed a baby?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “No wonder she left you,” the girl grumbled under her breath. “Fine. I’ll teach you.”

  Then she spent the next twenty minutes helping me feed him. Teaching me to burp him. Instructing me on all the subtle nuances of my child. If she’d had any awe of me previously, that had all evaporate when she realized I had none of the skills necessary for caring for Ripley.

  By the time DeSean had finished gathering supplies, and loading the vehicle, the trunk was full. “This should hold us for a week or so,” he murmured as he studied everything.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I grumbled. “What the hell is all this stuff?”

  “Well, you got the diapers, wipes, and diaper cream in this bag. We have formula, bottles, and bottle brush here.” He patted a box. “This is the pack and play he’ll be sleeping in, with spare sheets.”

  “Of course.” I sighed.

  �
��These are clothes. He’s growing fast now, so I packed 0-3 month and 3-6 month sizes. And we had to prepare for all kinds of weather. Some evenings are cold. Some days are hot.” He shut the trunk. “The kid needs blankets and burp cloths. I grabbed his Moby wrap so you can wear him.”

  “Wear him?” My brow furrowed as I looked down at the little bundle nestling against my chest.

  DeSean huffed. “I’ll teach you.” Then he lifted a car seat. “This one fits with the stroller in the trunk, but you also should have a base for it, and I’m guessing it was in the car accident, which means we really need to buy a new system in the morning. Got it.”

  I nodded, but he might as well have been speaking Greek. We wandered out to the car. I waved weakly at the girl who locked up behind us and showed us where Lauryn hid the key. “Thank you,” I whispered hoarsely. “Oh. Wait.” I passed DeSean the baby and then I pulled out my wallet. “I bet you need to be paid.”

  The girl sighed. “Yeah. Sorry.”

  “No problem. This, I got.” I grabbed a hundred dollar bill out of my billfold. “Will this be enough?”

  She blinked a few times. “More than enough.” Then she rushed across the street like she was afraid I’d take it back.

  In the meantime, DeSean buckled Ripley into the car seat and strapped the seat into the back of the car. I rubbed my eyes after sitting in the front seat.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” I muttered under my breath as he started the car.

  He clapped me on the shoulder. “Buddy, you don’t have a choice.”

  5

  Tradd

  “We’re here,” DeSean announced.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “I picked right up on that when we pulled into the parking lot with a hospital sign.”

  “Yeah, well you ain’t moving. So, that’s why I’m stating the obvious. You’re going through some things. I thought that sounded nicer than ‘get out of the car, jackass.’ Or do you want me to get real with you?” He snickered.

  “Right. Because up until now you’ve been so fake,” I grumbled. Then with a deep sigh, I pushed the door open, stepped out of the car, and turned to stare into the back seat. Ripley was sleeping. I stuffed my hands into my pockets. “Now what?”

  “What you mean ‘now what?’ You get the stroller out the trunk. You stick the car seat in it. You grab the diaper bag. Sling it over your shoulder, stick it in the basket. I don’t give a fuck. Let’s go check on Lauryn.” He huffed as he walked around to the back of the car to start helping me organize this.

  I’d said it once and I knew better than to say it aloud again, but in my mind one thought kept echoing: I can’t do this. I can’t do this. How the hell am I supposed to do this?

  “I hear you thinking. Stop it. News flash, rock god. Nothing is about you anymore. Accept it. Embrace it. Get your shit together.” In one fluid movement, he managed to pull the stroller from the trunk and set it up until it clicked open.

  My brows rose.

  “What? You’ll be able to do this too soon enough.” DeSean chuckled. “Now get your baby. I’ll show you how to hook the seat in.”

  Leaning into the car, I unbuckled the seat belt securing the car seat and gently hauled it out the door, holding it as carefully as I would a Grammy. DeSean reached out and helped guide the seat into the stroller. Once they were secured, he passed me the diaper bag he’d grabbed from the trunk.

  I slung it over my shoulder like a guitar and took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  Once inside the hospital, we were directed to the emergency room where a doctor immediately came to speak with us when we announced we were here for Lauryn.

  “Lauryn has a head injury from the crash,” he announced, which didn’t surprise either of us.

  I swallowed hard. “Yes, but how’s she doing?”

  “Well, to be honest, we’re not sure yet. She’s unconscious. Her pupils are dilated, which suggests there may be some swelling in the brain. We’re waiting for a CT scan.” The doctor blew out a breath and stared into the dimly lit exam room where she lay silent and unmoving. “She hasn’t regained consciousness.”

  “I was afraid of that,” I admitted as I looked back and forth between Lauryn and our son. “So, now what? Tests?”

  “Yes. We’re moving as quickly as we can. As soon as the CT is performed and the radiologist reads it, we’ll know our plan of care.” The doctor eyed me carefully. “And our prognosis.”

  I inhaled sharply. “She’s not going to die.”

  He nodded. “She’s breathing on her own. We haven’t had to intubate yet, but if we have to keep her in a medically induced coma to heal, that will change.”

  A clerk came over to us. “This is a terrible time to bring this up, but we need some information.”

  “Sure. Anything,” I mumbled.

  “For starters, I need her insurance information.” She looked back and forth between me and DeSean.

  Finally, I responded. “I don’t think she has any. She has only worked at the hotel for a couple of months. So, I don’t think she’d be eligible yet.”

  “Okay.” A look crossed her face and I immediately knew what it meant.

  “I’ll cover her. Whatever the cost, I’m good for it. You want my card?” I blurted out as I reached for my wallet. “Spare no expense. We have a baby.” The last few words I barely managed to choke out. My throat closed up on me as I allowed myself to momentarily consider what it would mean to lose her.

  The clerk copied my card information. “Of course, Mr. Beckett.”

  “Now what?” I asked quietly.

  A nurse nodded grimly at us. “Now you wait.”

  “Can I see her first?” I frowned, fearing the worst.

  “Just a few minutes. They’ll be coming to take her soon. And you should leave the baby out here.” She nodded at DeSean.

  Without hesitation, he stepped in and grabbed the stroller. “I got him. Meet us in the waiting area.”

  I nodded quietly and slowly made my way to Lauryn’s side. She looked so small in the bed, so fragile with all the wires and tubes attached to her. I stared up at the monitor a moment, slightly comforted by the rhythmic beeps that let me know she was hanging in there. Naturally, like always, I had no idea what to say to her. So instead, I sang. I reached out, took her hand in both of mine, and I sang our song. When I finished, I pressed my forehead to her side.

  “I have Ripley,” I murmured. “He’s perfect, Lauryn. You’re amazing. You’re so strong. You did this without me.” I took a few shallow breaths as I tried to calm down. “Now I’m doing this without you.” A hollow laugh escaped my throat. “You don’t want me raising our son. So you gotta pull through. Come back for him.” And then, because I really felt it, really meant it, I added, “And come back to me.”

  Behind me, the nurse cleared her throat and murmured, “Mr. Beckett, we need to take her now.”

  I released her reluctantly, and bent to kiss her forehead before whispering, “I love you, Lauryn. Never doubt it.”

  Then I was directed to the waiting room. I paced. I checked my phone for messages I didn’t care about. I studied every bit of Ripley. “Are you sleeping?” I asked DeSean when I realized he hadn’t moved for nearly an hour.

  “Trying to. You should too. That boy’s gonna wake up and you need to be on point,” he reminded me.

  “I can’t sleep. How can I do that? I need to know about Lauryn first.” I groaned in frustration.

  “You may regret this in a few hours, buddy. You never raised a baby before.” He shook his head at me. “Know why I’m resting? Tegyn will need my help when we get back. Zara still gets up for one feeding a night.” Then he went silent again.

  Several hours later, I only realized I’d passed out when the doctor came out and woke me. “Mr. Beckett,” he murmured in a low voice.

  I jerked awake, my hand on the stroller nearly rousing Ripley. I rubbed my eyes and sat upright, ignoring the pain in my neck and shoulders from the awkward position in
the uncomfortable chairs. “Yes. Lauryn?”

  “There’s some swelling on the brain. Nothing is broken, thanks to the airbags. She has some abrasions from them, which will heal quickly. We’re going to watch the pressure in her head.” He started to speak, but I interrupted him.

  “So…surgery?” My brow furrowed.

  The doctor shook his head. “Not yet. We’ll watch and see if it’s necessary. So far, no bleeds on the brain, just swelling. We’re going to do an MRI and make sure there’s nothing we’ve missed. We’re medicating her for pain and in an effort to prevent seizures. We’ll keep her sedated and comfortable for at least the next five days, since the greatest likelihood of swelling increasing is during that time.”

  “Can I see her?” I gripped the edges of the seat, waiting to hear him refuse my request.

  “Only for a moment. We still have much to do. After this, you should go home, come back in the morning. We’ll have her in a room and we’ll know more then.” He gestured to the doors leading to the exam rooms.

  I stood and stretched. “DeSean,” I murmured as I pushed on his shoulder.

  “I heard, buddy. Leave the little guy. I’ll stretch and we’ll meet you at the car. I’ll pull it up to the door.” DeSean yawned and opened his eyes. “It’s just after midnight,” he noted as he glanced at his phone. “We’ll be back to the hotel in time for the little guy to wake up and eat.”

  I nodded and turned to the doctor. “Same room?”

  “Yes.” He motioned for me to follow him.

  Taking a deep breath, I slowly padded behind him. I glanced over my shoulder just once in time to see DeSean talking to my son. “Don’t worry, little man. Your daddy will take good care of you. I’ll train him up.” He chuckled.

  I was still unconvinced, but mostly I was scared. I was terrified of losing Lauryn. I was worried I’d mess up with our son. And I had no idea how to hold it together during this trying time. I paid people so I didn’t have to deal with this kind of thing. I was able to focus on my music, my fans, living the dream. I had a manager to deal with these unpleasantries. Only this wasn’t anything I could push off on anyone else. This was all me. And I had too much riding on it to fail. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t still fuck it all up.