by Colet Abedi
“Is that code for, ‘Wife, will you go get me more paella? I’m too lazy to get my butt off the couch and go get it myself,’” she says laughingly.
Trevor gives her a big, innocent smile.
“You’re a mind reader, baby.” He gives her a wink. “We’re going to add that to the list of all of your charms.”
“Oh, you’re definitely bringing it.” Lianna cocks a brow at him.
But she gets up for him—until he pulls her down and gives her a big passionate kiss. I have to look away because the moment is pretty intense. And he’s got her blushing like a virgin from whatever he whispered in her ear.
Trevor’s gaze is glued to her ass as she walks away, and he definitely likes everything he sees. “God, I love that woman.”
Wow.
The way he says that makes me fall in brotherly love with him. These two have something pretty awesome and rare. And the way he just declared his love…he looks over at me and we share a smile.
“I don’t blame you,” I tell him. “She seems pretty great.”
“She is.” Trevor turns his body so he can face me.
I pour us some more wine and settle back into the couch across from him.
He gives me a friendly smile. “So, Kerri…tell me some more about Kerri.”
His question makes me want to laugh, but I do my best to look neutral so I don’t offend him. “What would you like to know?”
“Everything.” Trevor sounds serious. “If you’re going to be with Ian, I need to know everything. We’re family.”
He takes the relationship seriously, and so does Ian for that matter.
I like it.
“I know, tell me about your family,” Trevor demands. I sense he has more than a little bit of Ian in him. I can see why they get along so well.
“I have one sibling,” I say. “A brother.”
“What does he do?”
“He works in the family business.”
“What’s that?”
“Mergers and acquisitions.” I feel as though I’m on the witness stand.
“That’s what I thought.” Trevor looks pleased with himself.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“You’re a rich girl,” he says, his gaze flicking over me. “You’ve got that air.”
“Excuse me?” I don’t know if I should be offended or not.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Trevor teases. “You’ve got the vibe.”
“What’s the vibe?”
“You’ve never been hungry.”
Because Ian’s story is fresh on my mind, I understand what Trevor means. I still don’t know how to exactly take it, but what can I really argue? He’s right—I’ve never been hungry.
“I get it,” I say after a second.
“It’s not a bad thing,” Trevor tries to assure me. “It’s a lucky thing.”
I can’t help but say, “I wasn’t hungry, but that doesn’t mean everything was perfect in my life.”
Trevor nods. “I hear you. Everyone’s got a story.”
“They do.”
“And now you can’t blame me for wanting to know more of yours.” Trevor flashes me a grin. “I don’t even know your last name.”
His comment makes me laugh.
“Harrington.” I can’t help myself. “My parents are Jon and Vanessa Harrington. And my brother’s name is Colt. In case you were about to ask.”
Trevor’s smile falters. I watch as he goes from looking super relaxed to visibly shaken, and I can’t understand why.
“Do you want to know their signs?” I tease, hoping I’m just reading into something.
Trevor shakes his head, slowly coming out of it but still looking unsure. “Did you say your dad’s name is Jon Harrington?”
“I did. Do you know him?”
Chapter Eighteen
Kerri
Trevor looks as if he’s seen a ghost.
“I brought us all some more food. I figure we’ll probably have the munchies by now.” Lianna walks in holding a tray filled with what’s left of the paella and bowls for all of us. I don’t know if I can have another bite because I’m so full, but I’ll admit, it does smell really good.
“Is something wrong?” I look at Trevor, ignoring Lianna for a second, just wanting to know why he had such a visceral reaction. “Do you know my dad or something?”
“No, I don’t know him at all. I thought his name sounded familiar for a second.” He shakes it off and gives me a stiff smile. “The look you see is from the cramp in my leg. It happens sometimes.”
Lianna sets down the tray, looking worried. “Do you need your pain cream, baby? Or a heating pad?”
“I’m good. The food will hit the spot and ease all the aches.” He sounds sweet as pie as he grabs a bowl.
Lianna takes it from him in a motherly way and pours for him so he doesn’t have to move, then she hands it back. He gives her a sheepish smile, leans back into the couch, and eats. I can tell he likes the way she takes care of him. But who wouldn’t? He’s got it made.
As I’m thinking about grabbing myself a bowl and forgetting about that weird encounter with Trevor, the soft coos of a baby echo through the room. I look over to find the source, and I die.
Like literally die.
The hottest picture ever stands before me—Ian dressed casually in his white T-shirt and jeans, and his tanned, muscled arms are holding the cutest baby I’ve seen. He’s rocking her as if it’s his favorite thing in the world and like he’s done it a million times. He’s even holding a bottle. Like, are you serious? He knew how to make one? How hot is that?
“You changed her diaper, didn’t you?” Lianna’s obviously seen this picture before and answers any doubts I might have in my head.
“Yes,” Ian says and rocks the cutie around some more. “We changed the little princess’s diaper and got her a bottle.”
I’m pretty sure my mouth is hanging open. God, he looks super sexy like this. Just as hot as he does in the club, or in the kitchen watching me cook, or on the beach. This situation going on suits him just as much.
This domesticated picture is not one that has ever come to mind when I’ve thought about Ian, but it’s definitely one I can get into. And probably will. He kisses her head and pats her back. The baby snuggles into his muscular arms, loving every part of him. I don’t blame her. She already knows a good thing when she sees one.
Ian finds my gaze and we lock eyes. I’m sure he can tell I like what I see because he gives me a small, rueful smile. And my heart flutters. He looks content.
“You must meet my goddaughter, Tara.” His voice is almost reverent.
Ian walks over to me, sits on the couch, and shows me the baby. I put down my glass and scoot close to him to gaze at the little bundle of joy that’s clearly got a strong grip on his heart.
“She’s beautiful,” I say to the proud parents. “What an angel.”
“She is an angel,” Trevor agrees then narrows his eyes and clocks Ian. “Unlike her godfather.”
Ian couldn’t care less. “She loves her godfather.”
“Until she grows up and learns about all the dumb shit he used to do,” Trevor sounds pointed. “Then that love will turn to pity, because she won’t be able to believe what a complete and utter douchebag that godfather of hers was.”
“And yet, she’ll still love me.” Ian is confident as he smiles at little Tara. “Won’t you, little angel?”
I hate that I have to completely agree with him.
“What else can I bring you, Trev?” Lianna calmly interjects, as though she senses something going on with Trevor. She keeps her focus on her man. “How can I help you, baby?”
“I’m fine.”
Lianna doesn’t look as though she believes him. “I know what you need. I know what will make you really happy, but I’m going to need your help to get it.”
“Putting me to work is going to make me happy?” Trevor’s voice is deadpan.
I hav
e to stifle a giggle.
“Your mom’s leftover vanilla cake will,” Lianna says. “But you have to come with me to grab it from the fridge in the garage. You know how I hate going in there alone at night. You know how scared I get.”
“Scared?” Ian sounds amused. “I hope you’re joking.”
She gives him a look. I don’t think she appreciates his comment. “Did you see Scary Movie?”
Trevor rolls his eyes and gets up. “Lady, you should be embarrassed you said that out loud. You know that movie was a parody.”
Still, he dotingly follows his wife out of the room and listens to her scold him.
“I’m pretty sure Lianna’s an angel,” Ian whispers to me as we watch them go. “How she puts up with that man twenty-four-seven is beyond me.”
“I kind of think he’s great, but even so, I do agree, Lianna is pretty awesome.” I rub my finger along Tara’s soft cheek. “And they seem really happy together. They’re such a cute couple.”
“They are. Trevor is going to love that adjective when I tell him what you said.”
I lock eyes with him. “What they have is rare.”
He takes a minute before he replies, an energy moving between us. “It is.”
I get nervous all the sudden and have to break his gaze. I look down just as Tara gives me that cute-as-a-button smile.
“And this one is so precious.”
“Hold her for a minute.” Ian doesn’t really ask. He just transfers the baby into my arms.
I sit there kind of frozen for a minute, feeling super awkward. Tara giggles at me with her round, chocolate-colored eyes twinkling in delight. It’s like she knows how uncomfortable I am and she’s amused. To be honest, I don’t blame her.
I’ve never really done babies. I never babysat. Or ever had any desire to play with a child. They just seem so fragile and delicate, and I’ve always been nervous around them—like I might do something wrong.
“She won’t break,” Ian assures me. He sounds amused.
Tara and I lock eyes. In my mind, I hear the music sting from an old spaghetti western. I swear she looks as if she’s sizing me up.
“I’ve never really been good with babies,” I admit, kind of embarrassed that the picture of pure masculinity is way more comfortable with children than I am.
“It’s easy.” Ian hands me a burp cloth. “And she likes you. She cries when she doesn’t like someone. Her reaction is pretty immediate.”
I dare not move. The last thing I want to do is make the baby cry. That would be mortifying. Tara’s gaze won’t let mine go.
Ian’s husky laugh can’t help but make me smile.
“Don’t make fun of me,” I say.
“You’re as still as a statue.”
“I can’t help it.” I can only imagine what I must look like. “She’s staring me down.”
“The baby is staring you down?” Ian teases.
“I’m telling you,” I say with great gusto, still careful not to make any sudden movements in case she gets disturbed. “Look at her.”
“She’s studying you.” I think Ian is really enjoying this. “She’s curious. Babies are curious about the world. They’re trying to figure things out.”
“If you say so.” I don’t believe him.
“Let me help you relax.” He settles back into the couch and pulls me into his arms, careful not to disturb the baby.
And then, just like that, I’m nestled in Ian’s arms and he’s holding Tara and me. Like we’re both his.
I’m sure we’re now the picture of domesticated bliss.
Lianna and Trevor take that moment to walk back in the room. Trevor is holding a tan box that I know contains the vanilla cake his wife was talking about earlier. I watch Lianna’s eyes widen as she takes in the scene. The smile on her face is pretty funny. She looks as if she’s never seen anything more adorable. I wonder what Ian’s thinking.
“Wait. Don’t move,” Lianna commands. “I need to snap a picture and send it to you, Kerri. Oh my God, you’re going to love this. Just wait until you get a look.”
Famous last words.
Later, when we’re driving back to Ian’s place in the city, I have time to really check out those pictures Lianna texted after she got my number. Some are okay. And by okay, I mean mediocre at best. And then the others…there are a couple of me holding the baby so awkwardly, so nervously, that it’s laugh-out-loud funny. And my face…it’s too hysterical. Ohmygod, is that what I looked like? No wonder Ian could barely keep a straight face. He must have been dying on the inside. It’s priceless.
Since I’m in a really good mood and feeling super generous, I send the best pictures to Wylder and Tony in a group text just for shits and giggles.
As expected, I get immediate responses.
Wylder’s is the side laughing face emoji—times a thousand.
Tony sends a few gifs of people cry-laughing, and one, which makes me even bust out laughing, of hell freezing over.
“What’s so funny?” Ian asks, his eyes focused on the road.
“I’ll show you later. You might get in an accident right now because you’ll fall over laughing.”
“Give me a hint,” he asks.
“I promise it will be worth the wait.”
“Intriguing.”
“Oh, you just wait,” I vow.
Tony texts back on the group chain.
TONY: This picture. It’s really everything, Kerri. Thank you for sharing it with me. I will never forget this act of kindness.
WYLDER: I second that in every way. It’s really one of the best pictures I’ve ever seen.
ME: You’re welcome.
For good measure, I send them the middle finger emoji…but I can’t help but giggle again.
****
After we’ve had our fill of each other and are cuddled together in bed, I pull out my phone. We laugh our butts off as we scroll through the pictures.
“Who knew you were so good with babies?” I say to him in a bit of awe.
“Who knew you were so uncomfortable with them?” Ian returns with a mischievous smile. “I would never have guessed it. I would have thought you’d be a bit more at ease. More maternal.”
“Babies make me nervous. They’re like helpless blobs.”
“Helpless blobs?” Ian asks with a laugh.
“A bit.” I shrug uncomfortably. “And they just look at you like you can fix anything.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
I ask the obvious questions. “What if you can’t? What if you don’t fix the problem, but instead you create one? What if you screw that kid up even though you think you’re doing a good job?”
“I think you should have a bit more faith in yourself. You’re a smart woman. An empathetic woman. A good woman with an incredible heart. If and when you have children, I think you’ll be excellent at it.”
My entire body heats up in pleasure from his incredibly generous and sweet compliment. That’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. “I don’t know…we’ll see.”
I know I sound completely unconvinced. Not going to lie, even thinking of myself as a mom is a bit weird. The picture seems like a strange one to me right now.
“So how did you get to be so good with babies?” I ask.
“When we moved in with our cousin after my parents’ deaths, we lived next door to a single mom and her baby.” I’m surprised Ian is opening up so easily. “She was an addict and horribly neglected the baby. So until I turned eighteen and left, I spent a lot of time at that house. She would get so messed up on drugs she wouldn’t even know where she was—or her name for that matter. So I’d play with Mason, feed him and change him. I felt so sorry for him. Somehow, he seemed worse off than us.”
My heart melts. The story is beyond endearing and speaks volumes to his character and how empathetic he is, even as a child.
“You weren’t scared? You were so young…”
“I was nervous at first”—Ian shrugs
as if it’s no big deal— “and then I realized I had to do it or Mason would suffer even more than he already was. He didn’t ask to be born into that family.”
“Do you still keep in touch with him?” I ask even though I think I know the answer.
“Yes, I’ve always watched over him.”
“Does he live here?”
“He’s in grad school at Harvard.” Ian sounds proud. “He’s studying to be a neurosurgeon.”
I’m seriously impressed. “What an accomplishment.”
“He’s a great kid. Not a kid, only two years younger than you,” Ian says.
“I take you paid for his school?”
“I take care of him like family,” Ian confirms my suspicion. “He’s a good man, determined and hardworking. I’ve known him his whole life. Growing up the way he did, he deserves a real shot.”
Ian sounds so proud of him. And the look on his face tells me how much Mason means to him. More than that, Ian sounds so uncharacteristically soft. I like seeing this side of him. It confirms my belief that he’s a good man and has a generous and kind heart. But I dare not tell him what I’m thinking.
“Well, I think you’re going to be an incredible father. You have no worries there. You’re a natural. You could have five, maybe even ten, and be totally fine.”
“Ten?” he says incredulously.
“If the shoe fits,” I say.
“I think I might be better with other people’s kids.”
I shake my head. “What I saw tonight were legit dad skills. You’re pretty good. I would even go as far as to say you’re ready.”
His body tenses, and I want to kick myself for my idiotic slip. He might think I’m going to start planning our wedding and future with children—all five or even ten of them. But I only said it because it happens to be the truth.
I run my finger over his muscled chest, thinking about everything he told me. I do love the feel of his skin.
He breaks the silence. “Now I need you to answer a question for me.”
“Anything.”