by Miles, Cindy
Eric pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, Celeste, I haven’t,” he said calmly, then met her angry gaze. “But yes. I still have feelings for her, and they’re not going away.” He shook his head. “I can’t live like that. And you shouldn’t want to.” He didn’t tell her that he was pretty sure she didn’t live like that. She was on her cell 24/7. With someone. Constantly.
Her dark gaze met his. “I just didn’t figure you’d do this, Eric Malone—”
Suddenly, Celeste glanced down, a puzzled look on her face. She looked up at him.
“What is it?” Eric asked. Dammit, he should’ve just kept his mouth shut for now.
“I think my water just broke,” she said. “And my stomach feels tight.”
“Let’s get to the hospital,” he said, dismissing the discussion for now. “I’ll grab your bag, just wait here.”
In moments, Eric had the overnight bag Celeste had packed over his shoulder, and Celeste in the front seat of his truck, and they were racing to the hospital. He made a quick call to Matt to let his family know.
When he finally pulled into the King’s Ferry hospital’s emergency room parking lot, he cut the engine, ran around and helped Celeste out, grabbing her overnight bag. Inside, Eric led her to the admissions desk.
“Her water broke about twenty minutes ago,” Eric said.
“Hi, sweetie,” an older woman said, leaning over the desk to smile at Celeste. “Who’s your OB?”
Celeste flashed Eric a quick look, and he saw fear there. “I...don’t have one.”
Eric’s mouth dropped open, and he looked at her. “But I took you to her office, Celeste. You—”
“I lied—ouch!” she yelled as another contraction began.
Eric felt the color drain from his face.
“We’ll get the on-call, honey, don’t you two lovebirds fret. Now, I’ll need some information,” the woman said.
Through bouts of screeches and growls, Celeste gave her information, ending with the fact that she was still on her parents’ insurance and supplied a card and her driver’s license. Eric was in stunned, angry silence.
What else had she lied about?
Finally, a nurse appeared and escorted Eric and Celeste to the third floor, and led them to a birthing suite. There they settled in for a long, long day. Eric didn’t question her—not now, not while she was in labor. They hadn’t taken Lamaze classes. They’d done very little other than buy a baby seat, baby clothes and a little basket thing for the baby to sleep in beside the bed. He was in unknown territory when it came to babies, and he felt useless and like just another piece of furniture in the room.
At one point, Eric went to the waiting room to see his family. Matt, his father and Nathan were there. Emily had taken Jep home because by then it was pushing 9:00 p.m. Nathan was reading some women’s magazine. Matt and Owen were talking, sipping on coffee.
Eric scrubbed his jaw, then the back of his neck. He flung himself into the chair next to Nathan.
“Well?” his father said. “How are things?”
Eric shrugged. “Going slow.” Then he looked at them all. “She lied to me. About having a doctor here.” He shook his head. “I took her to one appointment and she insisted she’d just run in by herself, that they were only taking her blood pressure.” Again, he shook his head. “What was she thinking?”
“Something else is bothering you,” Matt said. He didn’t ask what, he just made an observation and expected Eric to take his cue.
“I told Celeste earlier, before she went into labor, that our situation wasn’t working out,” he started. “It just isn’t. It’s not right, and I don’t see it getting better.” He looked at his family. “Whatever we had before is so gone—”
“I’m looking for Celeste Tanner’s family?”
All four Malones looked at the doorway at the same time. Eric studied the guy; tall, sandy-colored hair cut short, a frantic expression on his face.
“Who’s asking?” Eric rose, walking toward him with curiosity.
The guy’s wide blue eyes held fear. “Jesse Morgan. Her boyfriend. Well, her ex-boyfriend.” He gave a half grin—one that looked scared. Unsure. Proud. “She’s having my son. And I’m hoping to convince her to come back home with me.”
Eric simply stared, unable to speak. Boyfriend? He’d never seen the guy before, so he must have happened after their breakup. Fast after it. Behind Eric, he heard a soft swear that he knew came from Matt. That explained who Celeste had been on her cell with constantly over the past week or so. She’d told him she was texting friends. Girlfriends. But why? If she was with this guy, why hadn’t she just told him? Left? Why had she even come to Cassabaw to find him? None of it made sense, and he felt like the biggest idiot alive.
What else had Celeste lied about? Despite Matt’s warning, he never thought Celeste would stoop so low as to allow him to believe the child was his. Yet here he was, and that was happening. This guy just claimed the baby was his. Jesus Christ.
He supposed he’d find out later. Not that it mattered much now. A paternity test would be done, just to make sure.
Eric inclined his head. “Come on, I’ll show you to the birthing suites.”
“Thanks, man,” Jesse said, clueless.
At the doorway, Eric glanced over his shoulder at his dad and brothers, shook his head, took a deep breath and escorted Jesse to Celeste’s room.
When Eric pushed open the door, Celeste’s eyes rounded when Jesse appeared before Eric. She burst into tears as Jesse hurried to her and wrapped his arms around her and she around his neck, sobbing. The nurse standing at the sink washing her hands shot a curious glance at Eric, who could do nothing more than shrug.
What a damn mess this was.
Just as Eric was easing out of the door, Celeste’s voice stopped him.
“Eric, please come here,” she said.
Eric stopped, staring at the wall, unsure what to do. He was humiliated, although not heartbroken. And man, did he hate being lied to.
“Please?”
With a heavy sigh, Eric turned, his face solid stone, and walked over to Celeste and Jesse. Wordlessly, he looked at the girl who had once stolen and crushed his heart.
“I’m sorry,” she said amid tears. “Jesse and I—we’d gotten into a fight and I ran to the only person I knew who would take care of me.” She stiffened as a pain began to come. “I...didn’t mean to hurt you. I just didn’t know what to do. Then we made up, and I was already here, and he had no idea I’d come to you. I’m...sorry. So sorry.”
Eric simply gave a nod, then turned and left the room as a contraction took over her. As he walked back to the waiting room, his anger and emotions itched beneath his skin like so many fire ants biting.
As he walked in, his dad and brothers all stood, and Matt met their questioning gazes. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he blew out a frustrated breath. “Jesse’s the father, they got into a fight and she ran here knowing I’d take care of her. They made up, she felt shitty and didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know anything about me. Paternity test will be done once the baby is born to make sure, and I’m ready to get the hell out of here.”
“Damn, bro,” Nathan said, slapping his shoulder. “Damn.”
Without waiting for his family, he turned and headed out the door. He’d pick up his meager belongings from the rental house, then head back home. Shame and embarrassment raced through him. He’d been taken for a fool. Again. He now knew that paternity test would prove it, too. He wasn’t the father. He’d been used. And he’d jumped right in to save the day, no questions asked.
Yeah. Shame raced through him all right.
Hopefully, Reagan would understand the entire mess.
CHAPTER TWENTY
IT WAS MORE difficult to paint at night. The lighting was all of
f, and it made the small number of shapes she could make out much more murky and blurred. But she’d pushed herself this night because she was so close to finishing, and she was excited for Em to see it. A couple, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in a rowboat as it eased through the creek. Again, inspired by her and Eric.
The night air had cooled and pushed through the screened-in haven she now called her studio. Her hair brushed over her collarbone, and she shivered, even with the USAF sweatshirt she wore. Her eyes were tired, though, and she was hesitating in her strokes. She’d have to finish up in the morning.
Just as she’d finished cleaning up and stood there stretching with her arms over her head, a voice startled her.
“Reagan Rose, can I come in?”
The sound of Eric’s voice made her heart flutter, and she stilled. “Eric? What are you doing here?”
“Well, it’s a long story, and I’d like to tell it to you. Can I?”
While she’d missed Eric fiercely, she didn’t want to become involved with...an involved man. And he was that and a box of cookies. There was something in his voice, though. Something like desperation that made her pause and consider.
Maybe this once.
“I guess,” Reagan agreed hesitantly. “Shouldn’t you be with your pregnant...person?”
The screen to the studio creaked open, and suddenly, his figure was there. “Well, she’s at the hospital having her baby, so—”
She nearly gasped. “Eric! Are you kidding me? Then why in the hell are you here?”
“Well, that’s what I want to talk to you about,” he said. “But from the look of disgust on your face I suppose I should tell you some of it now, so I can at least get in the doorway without being clobbered.”
“Yeah, you’d better do that,” Reagan agreed.
“The gist is, Celeste went into labor this morning. I took her to the hospital. A guy showed up tonight saying he was her boyfriend and the baby’s father. Celeste confirmed.” His figure moved a little closer, blurred and irregular. “Can we talk now?”
The news hit Reagan in the gut. She drew an inconspicuous breath, trying to calm her racing heart. How could someone do that? She inhaled and nodded. “Let’s go inside.”
“Is that us?” Eric asked, and Reagan knew he’d paused to look at the painting. “That night in the rowboat when I kidnapped you over my shoulder?”
A smile touched Reagan’s mouth. “Yeah, that’s right.”
“They just get better and better, Reagan Rose. It’s... No words...”
“Thanks,” she said quietly, and felt her way to the door leading into the house and opened it. Eric followed so close she could feel the air shift around his movements.
In the living room, Reagan sat on the sofa, and Eric grabbed the chair facing her. Not that she could see much better inside; it was still shady and blurred. She figured Eric did it for his sake, wanting to face her with whatever it was he had to tell her. She had no idea what it’d be, so she braced herself and waited.
* * *
ERIC’S INSIDES FELT like they’d been yanked into knots.
He knew this wouldn’t be an easy conversation. But as fate would have it, things suddenly changed tonight—and he hoped she’d listen.
“From the moment I came to the decision that it was my place to be with and support Celeste because of the child she was carrying, it’s hurt. It left a hole inside of me. I tried—to the best of my ability—to make things work with Celeste. From the very start, though, I knew things were different than they had been before. So different, it made me wonder how I’d ever felt the way I had.” He drew a deep breath, his gaze fixed on Reagan’s. He knew it was unfair—him being able to see and gauge her every reaction—but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
She sat still, cross-legged on the sofa, wordless.
“I’ve always wanted what my dad and grandpa had—a wife, family—the kind I’d protect, give my life for. A wife I’d cherish. But ever since Celeste returned, I couldn’t see that with her. Not anymore. And I knew it was because I’d become so crazy about you, Reagan Rose. I—” he sighed, rubbed his face “—I couldn’t get you out of my mind. Day. Night. Didn’t matter. And it wasn’t fair. For her, the baby or me. So today,” he continued, “I tried telling her. Wanted to talk to her about it. And she went right into labor.”
Reagan gave a short nod.
Eric went on. “When that guy walked into the waiting area and asked for Celeste, and told us who he was, I knew then I’d been taken for a fool. I took the guy to her room, her eyeballs nearly popped out of her head, then she burst into tears as they embraced. Then she apologized to me, said they’d gotten into a huge fight and she thought she’d have no one to help her. And she came to me. And so,” Eric said quietly, “I’ve come to you.”
Reagan sat quietly for a moment, the lines around her eyes and mouth tight, her expression unreadable. “Why?” she finally asked.
Eric almost jerked back. “To tell you how sorry I am. That I’ve missed you like crazy. And that I want, I mean, I’d hoped you would want to see me again.”
Reagan glanced to the floor, then unfolded her legs from beneath her. “Eric, I knew when you first made the decision that you were doing nothing less than what a good, honorable man would do. Never have I been angry at you for it. I understood. Completely.” She inhaled, her chest rising, then falling. “I guess I’d held on to some sort of hope. Hope that, I don’t know, we’d miraculously be able to brush away the events that took you away and start over. Or pick back up. But it was the night I sat in Jasper’s and heard Celeste announce that you’d asked her to marry you, and that you two were picking out a new house, planning a big wedding, that I couldn’t pine after you a minute longer. I had to look out for myself.”
“But none of that was true,” Eric insisted. He felt the conversation going in a direction he didn’t like. Made him on edge, like he should be braced for bad news. “She lied, Rea. To me. To everyone she encountered. Even to her boyfriend. I’m...sorry you had to hear that.”
Reagan nodded. “Well, it still woke me up regardless, and it’s led me to a decision that I simply can’t back out of.” She pressed her fist to her heart. “I’ve managed to pick up an art dealer who paid crazy money for my paintings, and commissioned me for four more—”
“Matt told me, and I’m so proud of you,” Eric interrupted.
“Thanks. But I also realized that I couldn’t be dependent on anyone. Not my sister. Not you. Not anyone.”
“What do you mean?” Eric said cautiously. This was definitely not going the way he’d hoped.
Reagan sighed. “I’m leaving Cassabaw Station, Eric. I’ve found a place in Caper’s Inlet and I’m moving in two weeks.”
It felt like he’d been hit in the gut.
For once, he was grateful Reagan couldn’t see his face.
“Why, Reagan?” he asked.
“Partly because I knew after that night in Jasper’s I could in no way live on the same small island with you and your new family. It hurt, Eric. I mean, I know we haven’t known each other for—”
“Only our whole lives,” he interrupted. “You don’t have to move now, Reagan. I could understand it...before, but not now.”
“How do I know that, Eric? You are one fantastic knight in shining armor, hands down. But I can no longer be one of your causes. I don’t want to be anyone’s cause. The other part, though, is my independence. I can’t live with Em and Matt. I don’t want to live with them. They’ll soon be newlyweds and they need their privacy. And so do I.” She sighed. “I have to do this, don’t you see? I have to prove to myself that I can make it without having a sister or her in-laws or...you to fall back on.” Her voice cracked. “I have to, Eric. My mind’s made up. I have to do this for myself. It’s something I have to prove or else I will always doubt. Alway
s wonder. Or always feel, deep inside, that I’m a burden.”
“Reagan, you’re never a burden, to anyone,” Eric pleaded. “Don’t go.”
She stood then, and Eric knew his pleas were falling on deaf ears. She made her way to the front door. “I have to,” she said again. “Please don’t make it any harder than it already is.” She opened the door, his cue to leave.
He didn’t want the damn cue.
He wanted her.
At the door, the frogs croaked in the marsh, and the incoming tide lapped at the banks of the river. Eric stared down at Reagan, and then she grasped his hands and placed them on either side of her face.
“See me,” she said softly. “For who I am, and who I am determined to be. Please?”
Eric’s eyes closed at the feel of her soft skin beneath his palms. Her words struck his heart, and he knew that at least for now, he’d lost the battle.
He’d never been one to throw in the towel too easy. Was Reagan right? Did he live his life being some knight in armor, out to save everyone? Except himself?
Raking his thumbs over her lips, he brushed a soft kiss there. “I do see you, Reagan Rose. I always have.” He kissed her once more, and he felt her intake of breath. “This isn’t over, Rea. Not by far.”
And with that, Eric turned and stepped out onto the veranda, the night air brisk and the darkness swallowing him up as he headed down the path between the Quinns’ and the Malones’.
He had two weeks. Two weeks to change Reagan’s mind.
He had absolutely no idea where to begin.
All he knew was that he couldn’t lose her. She had his heart.
He wanted to have hers.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“OKAY,” EMILY SAID. “Turn around slowly.”