by Kate Stacy
She’s going to be happy once I tell her, but this isn’t exactly how I wanted to break the news.
“Ryan? What’s Hannah talking about?”
Adam stands, shaking his head as he slaps me on the back as he passes.
Sighing, I stand to face the woman who raised me. “Let’s sit down to eat, and I’ll explain.” I wait for her nod before I look over at Hannah and hold out my hand, “Come on, kiddo.”
She comes right to me, but she bypasses my hand and wraps her arms around my waist. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t kn—”
“Shh.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “You have nothing to apologize for, baby girl. It’s all good.”
I refuse to let her feel bad about spilling the beans. I never told her it was a secret, or that I hadn’t told her grandparents yet. I could never be mad at her for being excited about her siblings.
She squeezes me tighter as we walk side-by-side to the table.
“So, spaghetti squash, huh?”
She giggles, instantly breaking the tension I felt. “It’s so weird how they compare babies to food.”
“Agreed, kiddo.”
We take our seats, waiting in silence for Jefferson to join us at the table. Once he’s seated, all eyes are on me.
“You’re going to be grandparents again.”
No one speaks, so I keep going.
“I met someone incredible. We haven’t officially been together long, but she’s pregnant…” I take a big gulp of my beer before I drop the rest on them. “With twins.”
“My God!” Mom gasps, covering her mouth. Her eyes glimmer with tears she tries to blink back.
Jefferson leans over, wrapping his arm around her shoulder to pull her close. I give him a nod of respect. He may not be my biological father, but he loves my mom fiercely.
Everyone’s quiet while my mom soaks in the news. I know she’s happy, but I also know she’s overwhelmed at the moment. Adam looks around the table, shrugging as he picks up his fork to start eating. Hannah snickers, effectively breaking the silence as she does the same.
“Tell me everything, Ryan! What’s her name? When are the babies due? How did the two of you meet? When do I get to meet her? Why am I just now hearing about this?”
She’s positively giddy, practically bouncing in her chair now.
“Slow down, ma,” I say with laughter. “Her name is Camille. The babies are due August twenty-first. The first time we met was at a bar. The second time...I pulled her over for speeding.”
That little detail gets a chuckle from Adam and Jefferson.
“You’ll meet her soon, I promise. And I didn’t tell you before because it wasn’t news I wanted to share over the phone. I wanted to wait until you and Jefferson got home from your trip. I intended to tell you today, but Hannah decided to spill the beans a little early.” I smile when I say it, nudging Hannah so she knows I’m not upset with her.
“August…” Mom mutters. Her eyes pop open wide when it clicks.
“Camille and I met the first time I came to Blackwood,” I offer before she voices the question I’m sure was coming. I’m honest and open with Hannah, but there are limits. She doesn’t need to know that daddy had a one-night stand with a random girl and knocked her up before he even knew her name. I’ll give my mom the details later if she asks for them, but what I’ve said should be enough for her to get the gist of how things happened.
The look she shoots me is more than enough to tell me she understands.
I may be a grown ass man, but I hate knowing my mom is disappointed in me.
As happy as she is about the babies, I know her well enough to know that she’s not-so-happy about the way they were conceived. Truthfully, neither am I, but I can’t regret it, or I wouldn’t have Camille, or the two blessings we’re expecting in a few short months.
Thankfully, the conversation changes directions and the spotlight’s on Adam now. Mom peppers him with questions about how he’s settling in and how things are going at the new shop. He gives her vague answers, but they’re enough to satisfy her curiosity. He’s got his own reasons for moving to Blackwood, but I’m the only one who knows those reasons. As far as everyone else is concerned, he moved with us so he could still have an active role in Hannah’s life. Adam is more than my best friend, he’s like a brother to me. He’s also important to Hannah as her godfather and uncle. He’s lived with us since I got custody of her, so it only makes sense that he would go where we go.
Once we’re all stuffed, everyone works together to clean up and we go inside to look at the billion pictures Mom took during their cruise. A fifty-nine-day cruise around the Panama Canal, South Pacific, and Asia. The cruise liner stopped at twenty-four ports and I swear Mom took pictures of every single thing possible. I kick back and listen to the stories of their adventures, thrilled that they had a wonderful time. I’m grateful I was able to be part of giving this gift to my mom. She deserved it, and so much more.
Hours later, I head out alone. Hannah wanted to spend some time with her grandparents, and Adam had some work to do at the shop. As soon as I knew I’d have the night to myself, I called Camille to make plans for dinner tonight. She let me know she had a long day and wasn’t feeling up to going out, so I offered to bring dinner to her instead.
The minute I’m off the phone with her, I call 80 Proof. Camille insisted she didn’t have any special cravings, but I happen to know that she loves the “street tacos” they serve at the bar. I’ve got enough time to run home for a shower and a change of clothes.
I take the fastest shower possible, throwing on a pair of sweats and a tee once I’m out and dry. I leave the house less than fifteen minutes after I got there and stop to pick up the food on the way to Camille’s house. Knowing the food was for her, Holden threw in a bunch of extra stuff he knows she likes. He and I may have gotten off to a rough start, but I’m glad it didn’t extend past the first time we met. He’s a stand-up guy, I’ve got a lot of respect for him and the way he takes care of his sisters. Even as adults, Holden is a man that takes his role of big brother seriously.
Camille opens the door to her apartment to let me inside and follows me to her small kitchen. As soon as my hands are empty of the bags of food, I pull her in for a kiss. It’s been too damn long since I’ve felt her lips on mine.
“Mmm,” she says when she pulls away. “That’s one hell of a hello.”
“Get used to it, Gorgeous.” I swat her on the ass, turning to grab some plates while she starts digging through the bags. It takes me a minute to realize my hand hit a good amount of bare skin. I double take and bite back a groan when I see what she’s wearing. Nothing more than a pair of teeny, tiny shorts and a skintight tank top.
“God, everything smells so good. Thank God the morning sickness is finally starting to go away. I wasn’t really enjoying the love-hate relationship I had going on with food. Mama’s gotta eat.” She rambles as she pulls out containers and lines them up on the counter. Once they’re all out, she starts to open them to see her options. “Oh! You brought my favorite tacos! I knew I smelled them! My pregnancy nose doesn’t lie!”
Chuckling, I come up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. I hold her belly in both hands as I nuzzle her neck, breathing her in. It’s the little things that make her happy, and I love being the man to give them to her. Camille turns her head, pressing her cheek to mine. I feel her smile as I rub her belly, determined to feel the babies move. She’s been feeling them wiggling around in there for a few weeks now, and according to the app Hannah was looking at earlier, we should be able to feel them from the outside soon.
“You’ll feel them eventually, babe.”
“I know,” I murmur against her neck. I’m not ready to let go of her, but I know she’s hungry, so I release her from my hold. “Let’s get you fed, Mama.”
We fill our plates and get comfortable on the couch. Camille turns on Netflix, choosing some romantic comedy she say
s she’s been wanting to watch. Not my type of movie, but I don’t give a fuck what we watch. I’m content just to spend some time alone with her.
We’re both busy with our jobs, neither of us live alone, and I’ve got Hannah to worry about, so our alone time is almost nonexistent. She lives with Presley, who seems to never be home. Tonight, I’m grateful for that since I get to soak up some time with my girl away from our families and friends.
Camille sits cross-legged on the couch while she enjoys her dinner, but I can’t imagine the position will be comfortable for her for long. Her belly grows bigger every day, causing frequent complaints of discomfort, aches, and pains. I find myself watching her more than the movie in front of us. It’s adorable how she rests her plate on the top of her belly. I can’t help but tease her about it.
“Enjoying your built-in table?”
“The belly does have its perks.”
“I’m sure it does. You done?” I ask, nodding toward her plate.
“God, yes. The babies don’t leave much room for food in there.”
I stand, taking both of our plates to the kitchen. I snag a couple bottles of water from the fridge and rejoin Camille. Walking back into the room, I see her stretching, arms raised above her head. The bottom of her bump peeks out from the lower hem of her shirt. My eyes lock on that sliver of skin momentarily before roaming over the rest of her body as she moves. This girl makes the most innocent things sexy as fuck.
It’s so easy to get lost in her.
I don’t want her to catch me standing here staring at her, so I force myself to move and take a seat. She smiles at me, changing positions to get more comfortable. I slide down to the other end of the couch, giving her more room to lay down and stretch out her legs. I don’t mind it at all when her feet end up in my lap, in fact, I use it as an opportunity to spoil her and help her relax even more. Taking one of her feet in my hands, I gently knead the soft skin from heel to toes. I work my way back toward her ankle, massaging her there before moving to her calf.
She starts making these sexy as fuck little noises of pleasure the longer I massage her tired, aching muscles. Switching to her other foot, I shift my body, trying to discreetly adjust my dick. The sounds leaving her mouth have me hard as stone. She seems clueless to the way she drives me insane. I know she’s not trying to turn me on. I can’t help the fact that my dick is at least semi-hard ninety-five percent of the time I’m in close proximity to her. I can’t explain the things she does to me. I just know that I want her. Bad.
Sex is a line we haven’t crossed again since we made things official. Camille has some trust issues that run deep. She hasn’t said it outright, but bits and pieces of conversations we’ve had led me to that simple conclusion. I’d love nothing more than to slide over on top of her and remind her how fucking incredible I can make her feel, but I’m letting her take the lead. She’s not shy. She’ll let me know when she’s ready for more.
For now, I’m grateful for the memories locked inside my head.
SEVENTEEN
Camille
Groaning, I kick off my shoes as soon as I close the apartment door behind me.
I love my job but standing on my feet for ten hours a day is really becoming a huge pain in my ass. No matter how many breaks I take, or how frequently I sit down in between clients, my poor feet are always screaming at the end of the day.
What I wouldn’t give for another foot massage from Ryan.
His strong fingers working my sore, tired muscles. God. I get chills just thinking about it. He had my entire body teetering on the edge.
Feeling. Wanting. Needing.
Remembering every sensation I felt the last time his hands were on me. I know exactly what kind of intense pleasure those hands are capable of. I crave that pleasure. I crave him.
I wish I knew what keeps holding me back. I can tell he’s waiting on me to make a move, to take the next step. He’s taking things slow with me, being cautious. I like that he’s intuitive enough to know I didn’t want to rush into things headfirst, to know we needed some time to get to know each other. He’s nothing if not respectful, but sometimes I wish he’d push. I wish he’d press me up against a wall and take what he wants.
The way he did the night we met.
So many nights I’ve touched myself to the memories of the way he took control. He took exactly what he wanted and gave me everything I didn’t know I needed. He controlled everything. My mind. My body. My pleasure. Oh, how I want to give him that control again.
“You look like you’re thinking something positively dirty.”
Shit!
My eyes pop open to see Presley standing in front of me with a shit-eating grin on her face. I blink and look around. Lost in my filthy thoughts of Ryan, I didn’t realize I went through my normal evening routine without even realizing what I was doing. My keys are hanging by the door, my purse is on the small table just inside. I even managed to kick back and get comfortable on the couch.
How easy he makes it to forget everything around me.
Presley laughs, snapping me out of my thoughts again.
“I didn’t realize you were home.”
“That’s not a denial of dirty thoughts,” she points out. “I’m getting ready to head out. You’ll have the apartment to yourself. Call Ryan. He can drop by and help you turn those fantasies into realities.”
I feel the blush heat up my cheeks.
Presley winks and heads for the door without another word.
I’m too flustered to bother asking where she’s going. It’s unlikely she’d tell me anyways. She never does. We’ve lived together for years, but she’s almost never home. I’m not even sure if she sleeps here most nights. Feels like I don’t even know my sister anymore and I hate it. The three of us used to be thick as thieves. Somewhere along the way, Presley started pulling away.
The worst was when Madalyn left town and basically stopped talking to everyone. I felt like I’d lost both of my sisters because Presley kept to herself after that. Things got a little better when Mads came home, but it didn’t last long. She started pulling away again and in the aftermath of the hell she put herself through, Presley pulled away too.
She’s always had a way of being included but keeping herself at a safe distance at the same time. It’s not something I’ve ever let bother me because I’ve grown used to it over the years, but lately I’m not so sure how I feel. It’s almost as if she has this whole other life I don’t know about.
Looks like I’m not the only one with secrets.
The sound of my stomach growling interrupts the calm silence in the apartment. I laugh because it causes the babies to wiggle around. Pushing myself up off the couch, I head toward the kitchen to grab something to eat. No sooner than I open the fridge, I hear a text alert from my phone. Smiling, I go grab my purse to retrieve it, knowing it’s probably Ryan checking in.
He’s on the night shift this week, which makes it almost impossible for us to spend any time together. I’m at work when he’s home sleeping, and he’s working when I’m at home resting. It doesn’t stop him from constantly texting and checking in to see how me and the babies are doing.
Opening my messages, I frown. It’s from an unknown number.
Long time no see. I’ve missed you.
Confused, I check the number again. It’s local, but not one I recognize. Must be a wrong number. I reply—letting whoever it is know they have the wrong number—then set my phone on the counter. I grab a bowl of leftovers from the fridge and pop it in the microwave. While I wait for it to heat, I snack on a handful of grapes. Right before the microwave beeps, my phone chimes with another text.
I don’t think so. You’re exactly who I’ve been looking for.
Must be some idiot pulling a prank. Maybe some hopeful person looking for a wrong number hookup. I’ve read several romances that start this way but seen just as many horror movies beginning the same. Whatever. I don’t have time fo
r that. Besides, it’s kinda creepy, so I decide not to respond a second time. Deleting the messages, I put my phone back down and take my dinner out of the microwave. Food doesn’t appeal to me at all anymore, but I take it to the living room in case I change my mind.
After a quick trip to my bedroom to exchange my dressy work clothes for something comfortable, I curl up on the couch with my Kindle and get lost in the newest release from one of my favorite romance authors, AJ Alexander.
Several chapters in, the creepy texts are all but forgotten. The steamy romance I’m reading has me hot, bothered, and thinking about Ryan again. I wish more than anything he wasn’t on the night shift. I’d call him right now and have him come over because I know he’s the only one who could douse the fire burning through me.
Never in my life have I been this turned on. I spent more than six years happily avoiding anything physical, but now it’s like a switch has been flipped. I’m needy all the time and I can’t seem to turn it off. Madalyn told me the further along I got in my pregnancy, the more my hormones would go haywire. I laughed when she said she can’t keep her hands off Jaxson because she’s always hornier than hell. Maybe she was right.
Or maybe it’s just the effect Ryan has on me.
EIGHTEEN
Camille
School pickup lines are pure madness.
I don’t know how parents deal with this insanity five days a week.
Ryan called me, worried because he’s stuck at the station and couldn’t get in touch with his parents or Adam to pick up Hannah from school. He practically begged me—not that he needed to—to pick her up for him.
So here I am waiting, trying to decide which this resembles more closely: a circus or a zoo.
I can’t decide. Could go either way.
I shoot a quick text to Ryan, letting him know I’m here and I’ll message him again once I’ve got Hannah. I’ve barely tapped to send the text when another comes through.