by Eden Finley
“And it was so worth it,” Trevor called out from his desk outside my office.
“You’re fired,” I called back.
“Don’t believe you,” he singsonged.
I turned to Vic. “And you want me to willingly bring my friend into this environment? You’re crazier than Trevor.”
“Shall I get an employment contract drawn up?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”
Now I had to convince her I wasn’t creating this position for her.
As tempting as it was to say screw it and offer to pay for whatever she needed, I knew that’s not what she wanted, and I also knew the offer would be too tempting to resist. And then she’d most likely end up resenting me for letting her give in.
I also didn’t want her to confuse money with feelings, or feel she was obligated to me in some way, or that I was trying to buy a relationship out of her. If she ever looked at me the way I wished she would, I wanted it to be because of me, not my bank account. I wasn’t expecting us to go down that path, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it to. And by paying her way, it’d be shutting off the possibility because I’d always wonder if her feelings for me were genuine or not.
What feelings, you moron? She’s. Not. Into. You.
Living and working with her was probably a horrible idea, but I could push my attraction to her aside if it meant I got to spend as much time with my child as I could. I wanted the baby living under my roof, but I already knew that would involve many cold showers if I had to live with Reece. With any luck, she’d be a horrible roommate, and it would make my dick immune to her. Although, then I’d have the headache of having a shitty roommate.
I can’t win.
But there was no other way to get what I wanted.
10
REECE
I was packing my clothes into a box when there was a knock at my door, and I didn’t bother turning around as I said, “Come in.” I was in a world of my own and didn’t register that it was two PM on a weekday and I should’ve been the only one home.
“Congratulations,” Paul sneered from the doorway.
The paternity test results were due back today. It was why I was packing.
He threw a piece of paper at my bed, but I didn’t need to read it to know what it said. We’d known all along, really.
“This is me giving you thirty days’ notice to get out of my house.”
“I’ll be out this weekend,” I promised.
With a single nod, he turned on his heel. “I’m going back to work.”
It was official. Spencer was the father of my baby.
I didn’t know what I expected to feel: relief, sadness, disappointment, anxiety … But what I didn’t expect was for a smile to spread across my face.
Then disbelief flitted through me when I realised I was having a baby with Spencer Crowley.
In high school, he was a bit nerdy, cute but not exactly hot. He was the type who got screwed over by girls because he was the nice guy. No girl paid attention to him because we were all going through our rebellious bad boy phase. Most girls grew out of them, but I married mine. And while Spencer still had this tech nerdy thing happening, he was no longer cute; he was all man. He grew into his looks, and I could still feel the hard planes of his chest and stomach pressed against me just from the memory of our night together.
I pulled out my phone and took a photo of the test results. As I brought up Spencer’s number to send it to him, I realised that would be a shitty way to find out he was going to be a dad.
I brought up Cole’s number instead.
Reece:
Can you take Cody this afternoon/evening for a few hours?
Cole:
No problem. I’ll come pick him up after work.
Reece:
We also need to sit down and have a talk with him.
Cole:
We?
Reece:
You and me. We need to let him know about Spence and Paige. I know she’s been letting you two have your time together, but school holidays are coming up, and you said you’d take him for two weeks. I assume she’ll be spending time with both of you. We need to explain to him about everything so he isn’t confused. I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.
Cole:
The test results came back? It’s definitely Spencer’s?
Reece:
You can’t say anything to anyone until I’ve spoken to him. Please?
Cole:
Deal. I’ll see if I can get out of work early and pick Cody up from school if that’ll help?
Reece:
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Cole:
No prob.
Then I texted Spencer.
Reece:
You got time this afternoon to talk?
Spencer:
Are the test results back?
Reece:
I’d rather have this conversation in person. Wouldn’t you?
Spencer:
I’m leaving work now. Meet me at my house … OUR house?
Reece:
Nice try. Be there in 30.
I didn’t know why, but I had the need to put on makeup and make myself look halfway decent. I told myself to not analyse that too hard, chalking it up to wanting to look presentable to tell the father of my child he was going to be a dad.
Yeah, that’s why you’re doing it. Sure.
By the time I’d done my makeup and put on a casual black dress, I left the house with a surprising skip in my step.
Finding out Spencer was the father made me feel lighter and optimistic somehow. I didn’t know why that was when Paul had all but offered me the world when I was engaged to him.
I was starting to think, deep down, I knew I didn’t want that life. Being the housewife of a successful lawyer, where my entire job was to make sure he was happy, didn’t sound like the type of life I was ever suited for.
Perhaps I wasn’t suited to being a career woman, either, but I’d never given it a shot.
Twenty-seven years old and two kids later wasn’t too late to start over, right?
When I pulled up at Spencer’s house on the small cul-de-sac he lived on, I realised I’d only ever been there once before. He threw a housewarming party for himself when he first moved in, but that was three years ago, right around the time of my divorce from Cole. I didn’t stay long in fear Cole would show up.
Spencer’s house was a polished and refined Queenslander with its pointed roof and wide veranda. The design was sleek and modernised, and I wondered how much his mortgage repayments would be on a large house that size.
I opened the car door and climbed out, coming face to face with Spencer who was walking down his porch steps towards me.
“I was beginning to think you were gonna chicken out. Is there something on my roof that shouldn’t be there?” He tried to hide his nervousness but it showed through when his voice cracked.
“I was admiring your house. I think I’ve only been here once before.”
“It’s a bit run-down and needs some work, but it’s home.”
I shuffled awkwardly on my feet, wondering how to put him out of his misery. I wasn’t good at grand gestures or sentimental crap. I wasn’t that type of girl. “I guess you better show me my bedroom then.”
His eyes widened and his lips curved at the edges, and it was then I realised what I’d said.
“I mean because … not … ooh, boy. That sounded a lot less sexual in my head.”
He laughed.
I pulled the piece of paper out of my purse and handed it over to him.
His eyes scanned the page, from the top where it had Paul’s name to the bottom where it read “Possibility of paternity: 0%.” I knew the moment he saw that part because his smile grew and his entire face lit up. “I knew it,” he whispered.
“You’re going to be a father.”
His arms wrapped around my back and lifted me into the air, spinning me around.
I lau
ghed but not before feeling queasy. “Careful, unless you want me to vomit all over you.”
He put me down again but kept his hands on my hips. “Sorry. Are you still getting morning sickness?”
“It’s starting to settle down. But, you know, not if you spin and shake me.”
“Sorry. Again. I’m a bit excited.”
“A bit?”
“I’m going to be a dad; what do you expect?”
“I dunno, for you to freak out? Have a heart attack, panic attack, anxiety attack … pick any type of an attack and have at it.”
“Eh. I did that weeks ago already. Now I can celebrate.”
He grabbed my hand and dragged me all the way in the house. His hand was warm and soft and sent butterflies to my stomach again.
Ugh, don’t go there.
“So now you’ve dragged me into your cave, are you going to club me over the head and make me yours?” I joked. And then I realised how it sounded coming out. “I didn’t mean … and … oh, man, I’m on a roll today, aren’t I?”
His lips quirked up. “I never realised you were so hilarious, Reecie.”
If only he realised I wasn’t trying to be funny at all.
My ballet flats squeaked on the polished hardwood floors as we entered the living room right off the entryway.
The black leather couches looked out of place in the older style home. Much like the big screen TV next to the stone fireplace. It was woodsy meets modern and mismatched in designer hell. Not that I was an expert.
“You can tell a man decorated in here,” I said.
He laughed.
“What?”
“I guess Shayla was a bit manly.”
Shayla. His ex.
“Oh. Sorry.” I looked down at my feet. “Why did you two break up?”
“I think when we moved in here it was the beginning of the end. She wanted me to put her name on the deed, a ring on her finger, and have a happily ever after that neither of us were ready for. The thought of proposing to her made me break out in hives. That’s never a good sign. I didn’t even ask her to move in with me. It was just suddenly happening.” He shook his head. “It was never going to work between us. I wasn’t in love with her enough to get over her annoying habits.”
“What annoying habits will we have to avoid so you don’t kick me and Cody out?”
“Well, not sleeping with other guys like Shayla did would help, but I don’t think that’s applicable in our situation. I can’t exactly ask you not to date when we’re not together.”
“Sorry. I had no idea she …” cheated. Just like we did. Shit.
“We’re all sinners here, right? Guess I can’t judge her too harshly after …” He waved a finger between the two of us.
“It’s not your fault she cheated on you. You know that, right?”
He shrugged.
“Generally, people don’t cheat because they aren’t getting something at home. At least, that wasn’t the case with us. What happened between us was me freaking out about my own issues. It had nothing to do with Paul. Or you.” God, why are you bringing it up? Subject change, quick. “And seeing as I’m a single, pregnant mother, I can guarantee I won’t be sleeping with another guy any time soon.”
He grinned, and I had to tell myself not to read into it. I was a sympathy fuck that went and changed his whole life. That wasn’t an attractive quality.
“But seriously, is there stuff you expect other than the basics?” I asked. “Like keep the place clean, do the dishes, et cetera, et cetera.”
“Okay, this is going to sound weird, but can you not clip your toenails in the living room?”
I screwed up my face. “Eww, did Shayla do that?”
He nodded. “Drove me insane. Other than that, I’m pretty laid-back.”
“Okay, deal.”
“Any rules for me?” he asked.
“Well, while we’re on the hooking-up subject, I get this is your house, and you have every right to do whatever you want, but I ask you don’t bring anyone back here on nights Cody’s here. He goes to Cole’s every other weekend, so—”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I get it. No hooking up with the kid in the house. Although, I have to say, I don’t think that’ll be happening for me anytime soon either. I may be able to hide it better than you that I’m about to be a parent—with the whole no baby bump thing—but that doesn’t change the fact I’m going to be a new father in six months. Pretty sure ‘Hey, wanna come home to my place where I live with my baby mumma and newborn?’ isn’t the best pickup line.”
“You could always go to their place.” Why are you giving him ideas?
“Yeah, I guess.” His dismissive tone made me smile.
“So are you going to show me this room of mine, or what?”
He held out his arm, gesturing to the hall. “Right this way. I didn’t know which way you wanted to do it, but I figured I’d give you the front room. It’s the biggest other than the master. Unless you want Cody to have the front room, you can have the middle, and then the baby can have the one at the end, so you’re in between the kids, or—”
“It’s okay. We’ll work it out. The baby will probably be in with me for the first six months anyway.”
He led me to the first room which was bare apart from a queen bed, but he was right about the space being huge.
The middle room he was talking about was still a decent size, and it had a double bed and a chest of drawers.
“I thought this one could be the nursery,” he said when we reached the third room. “It’s small.”
“It’s also full of junk,” I pointed out. The room was cluttered with a desk, an old computer, filing cabinets, and unused gym equipment.
“We’ve got six months to clear it out. I took everything out of those two rooms and shoved it in here, knowing you were moving in.”
“Oh. Is this like your office or something? Do you need it for work?”
He scoffed. “Come with me.”
The house was a split level—the living room, kitchen, laundry, bathroom, and three bedrooms on the entry level and three narrow steps which led to the second level and a long hallway to the back of the house.
This part of the house was newer, as if it wasn’t part of the original dwelling.
There was another room off to the right, another bathroom and toilet on the left, but two large double sliding doors were at the end, and as he opened them up, I was led into the master suite.
“Holy fuck.”
Spencer laughed. “Such class. I love it.”
“This room is huge.”
He had a king bed with side tables and room to spare on either side, and to the left along the wall and overlooking the backyard through French windows was a much more modern-looking computer with two different screens and a whole lot of bench space left over.
“This was originally three bedrooms, one bath, but the last owner added this extension and turned it into this. Apparently ran out of money after that and didn’t get a chance to fix up and match the rest of the house. Ended up nearly foreclosing which is how I got this place. It needed to sell fast, and the price was right.”
“I was gonna say the repayments must cost you an arm and a leg.”
He looked away, mumbling something along the lines of “I manage.”
“Well, I guess we should talk about that, right? Did your guy come up with a figure of how much you can afford to let me stay here?”
“How about we go sit in the living room and talk.”
“Uh-oh.”
“It’s not bad. I promise.” Gesturing for me to head back down the hall, he followed me into the living room. “Want a drink or anything?”
“No, thank you,” I croaked and had to clear my throat.
“Seriously, Reece. You look terrified. It’s not bad.”
We both sat down on the same couch.
It was weird having his leg right there next to mine. I didn’t know why I was focusing on that.
“Is there something on my jeans? You seem to be studying them pretty hard.”
My gaze found his. “Sorry, what?”
“I have an offer of sorts.”
“I don’t want you loaning me money or giving me a free ride or anything. I need to do this on my own. Relying on you for a roof over my head is bad enough—”
“You won’t be relying on me. With what I have to offer, you’d be able to afford to rent elsewhere, but I hope you choose to stay anyway. I want to live with my child. I realise it probably can’t last forever, but it’s what I want. At least for now.”
My lips pressed together in a firm line. “What are you offering?”
“We need a new tech support operator at work. Twenty-four hours a week, Wednesday to Saturday, evenings during the week and early morning on Saturday.”
I was confused. “You’re offering me a job?”
“You need one, yeah? And my finance guy said if you only work the twenty-four hours, your single parent payment won’t reduce all that much.”
I hesitated. I needed a job, but something about accepting one off Spence seemed wrong somehow.
“What’s wrong?”
“I appreciate it. So much, you have no idea. I just … I’m already failing at doing shit on my own. I should be able to find a job myself. I should be able to provide for my children by myself. God knows there’s a million other single parents out there handling it fine.”
He made what sounded like a “ha” sound. “You should talk to my mother. She raised four kids on her own, and she’ll be the first to tell you to take any opportunity to support your family that comes your way, no matter how it comes about.”
“Four? I remember your sister. She was a few grades older than us. But four?”
He smiled. “You remember Becca. She’s three years older than us. Then there’s Tammy, she’s five years older. And then Chrissy, the oldest.”
My mouth dropped open. “You have three older sisters? How did you survive childhood?”
He laughed. “I ask myself that every single day. They’re going to absolutely kill me for having a kid with a one-night stand. Especially Chrissy. Telling them is the only thing that scares me about becoming a father. Well, that, and totally screwing the kid up.”