Claim My Baby

by Taryn Quinn

  “Wait, he knocked you up, right?”

  “Indelicately speaking, yes.” I sighed and opened the fox. “But we never really went out on regular dates. We just did everything backward. I gave him a blowjob before we even had our first kiss.” Once the words were out, I covered my mouth. “Um, so about those Mets?”

  Kelsey laughed so hard I thought she’d need assistance. “It’s probably good you’re already spoken for. If we ever tried to go man slaying, the guys wouldn’t know what hit them when it came to our mouths.”

  “Do you mean verbally or vis a vis blowjobs?”

  “Definitely verbally in my case. My experience there could be held on the head on of a…” She snorted. “Never mind. I’m just going to shut up and get drunk.”

  I sighed heavily. “Jealous. And I barely even drink.”

  “What did the fox say? Ha ha. Oh man, I’m killing myself tonight.”

  “He told me he missed me. That was it. But not just me. He said he missed both of us.” I swallowed hard, vowing not to get misty. Not like I’d done when I’d opened that stupid fox and nearly blubbered like a baby. “He’s so going to win me over with origami turkeys, Kels. And we haven’t even had any of the big talks we need to. I’m afraid to.”

  “Did you just call me Kels?”

  I took that extra moment before answering to dash my fingers under my eyes, hoping she wouldn’t notice. Weeping in front of new acquaintances was never looked upon favorably. “Yes, I nicknamed you. Hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s more than okay. I love it. Your name is harder to—oh no. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” I reached for my water goblet and took one sip before swallowing a sob, then giving up the ghost entirely and bracing my streaming eyes on my folded arms. “I’m not…ready for this. I just wanted…sex. Why can’t I ever get…what I want…when I want it?” I was mumbling into my arm in between sobs and I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell she could understand me.

  I also knew we probably wouldn’t be going out for dinner again anytime soon. Good thing I’d already planned on being a shut-in for the rest of my pregnancy, so I’d have enough time to consider my bad life choices and so I wouldn’t see Oliver in public ever again, ever.

  Did I say ever?

  Because that was literally the only way I could stop from throwing myself bodily at him. I already loved him. And even the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he loved me too and/or could learn to love me and the baby gave me so much hope.

  I wanted to try. I had to try.

  Awkwardly, Kelsey patted my head. “The baby has you all mixed up.”

  “No, that’s just the thing. The baby is clarifying everything for me. Sometimes people give up too easy, you know? Maybe if I wasn’t pregnant, I wouldn’t be as willing to try, but that doesn’t mean walking away is the answer.” I sniffled. “So what that we’ll have to work on this? If we want to—if we both want to—that’s all that matters.”

  “You’re so right. If I had someone to work on stuff with, I’d be very inspired right now. Alas, my jackass ex broke up with me via text.” Kelsey threw back her drink. “I briefly contemplated lesbianism. It’s still an option on the table, depending on what the dating pool looks like here in Crescent Cove.”

  I giggled through my tears. “Don’t get your hopes up. I fished in this pool forever and found—”

  “Sage? Sage Evans? Is that you?” A big dark-haired guy in jeans and a hooded parka stopped beside our table, smiling widely. “I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. How long’s it been? Close to ten years?”

  My lungs locked, trapping my breath in my throat. No way. It wasn’t possible. Back when I’d been looking for him, he wasn’t anywhere to be found. Now that my lady taco—and the rest of me—had full occupancy, here he was, looking much like he had in high school. He was a little taller, a little broader, with a short, dark beard. But there was no mistaking that twinkle in his always-laughing green eyes.

  “Moose,” I said weakly. “Yes, eight or ten. A long time. How are you? You look well.”

  “I am. So do you. Same pretty Sage.” He held open his arms. “Got a hug for Moose after all this time?”

  “Um, sure.” A hug, yes. Dating? No. Sex? Definitely not. But he was just being polite, so I would be too.

  I stood, and he grabbed me up in his big bear arms, lifting me straight off the ground with a squeal. His rumbling laughter was enough to get the whole bar’s attention, and I was pretty sure it had. Heat rushed to my cheeks and I immediately pushed at his arms for him to let me down, which he did at once. But we had already gotten everyone’s attention, including—

  Oh my God, no. It wasn’t possible. Oliver didn’t come to places like this. It was as rare as a man grinning at me as if I was the juicy cherry on top of his hot fudge…penis.

  Dammit, Moose. Of all the shitty timing.

  “Sorry about that, Sage. Didn’t mean to give you a scare. Couldn’t help giving you a squeeze.”

  “That’s okay,” I said, my gaze connecting with Oliver’s beyond Moose’s massive biceps. He wasn’t growling or anything else, just looking at me with an ultra-focused expression that belied the way the guys were crowding into his sides as if he’d had too much to drink.

  Again, was this really my Oliver? Hanging out at bars and drinking too much?

  Along with running into Moose, this was serious Twilight Zone stuff.

  “Um, this is my friend, Kels,” I said into the silence. “Kelsey. What’s your last name again, Kels?”

  “Ford.” She rose and held out a hand, evidently realizing I was in distress. “Your name is Moose? I can see why. You’re a very big boy.”

  Moose chuckled, his ruddy features flushing. “Normally, I’d say all over, but Sage is an old friend.”

  “Old friend, huh?” Kelsey gave me a look. “What kind of old friend? Sage, you okay?”

  “Yep, I’m fine.”

  Lies. All lies.

  Oliver—and Seth and some other guy who looked vaguely familiar but whom I couldn’t place—were coming ever closer, and my pulse was picking up pace with every step. I grabbed my glass of vodka cranberry, hold the vodka, and tossed the last of it back, wishing it was alcoholic with a vengeance.

  Too bad for me. Baby on board. And wasn’t that a perfect excuse to avoid a potentially awkward moment? Never mind my probably messed-up makeup from crying. I did not want Oliver to see me like this.

  “Actually, excuse me, bathroom break,” I called, fleeing from the table as fast as my short, chunky heels could carry me.

  I’d made it halfway down the hallway to the ladies’ room when footsteps sounded on the plank floor behind me.

  “Sage.”

  Had his voice always been that deep? It was as if I was in a deprivation state, and I couldn’t resist pivoting to suck down a quick, greedy glimpse of him. My heart turned over and my throat constricted, even as I backed toward the bathroom in self-preservation.

  I wanted to talk to him. Just not yet. I was so vulnerable, so…

  “Are you all right?” He was still coming toward me in slow, measured steps. “You’re pale.”

  “And you’re at a bar. Why?” He stopped and dipped his hands in his pockets. My gaze dropped to his jeans—jeans?—and I gasped. “I-I can see your thigh.”

  That made his lips quirk. “It’s a terrible look for me.”

  “No, I wouldn’t say so. Actually, you’re insanely hot.” I swallowed and thanked the heavens I’d worn a heavy wool skirt because there was definitely some…liquefying going on between my legs as he flashed me a slow grin. “Ripped jeans, a beer T-shirt, hanging out at a bar. Have you fallen in with an unsavory crowd?”

  His low laughter disarmed me enough that I almost didn’t notice he’d resumed his approach. I went still as he moved in, bracing his arm on the wall beside me. He reached out to touch my hair, trailing his fingers over the ends as if they were as delicate as satin. “You look beautiful.”

  “
You’ve been drinking.” I could smell the yeast on his breath, and rather than repelling me, it drew me closer. I never knew him to let down his guard even that much.

  “You’re beautiful regardless, and don’t you ever doubt it.” He tugged on one of my curls. “Yes, I’ve been drinking. I wanted to get drunk out of my mind so I didn’t miss you anymore.”

  Oh God. Vulnerable Oliver was going to lay me out on my keister.

  “Did it work?” I asked quietly.

  He shook his head, tipping his forehead ever closer to mine. “Don’t think there’s enough alcohol in the world for that.” Then his focus dropped to my throat. “You’re still wearing the necklace.”

  “I love it.”

  “Knots are tricky things. Some come apart so easily, with just the barest pull.” He drew gently on my hair, sparking a tingle in my scalp that reverberated straight to my overeager nipples. “Others are impossible to break. Strong enough to withstand anything. Time, force, the elements. Once formed, they’re unyielding, even if now and then some of the threads unravel.”

  His words skated over my skin, creating little frissons of heat in their wake. “A knot can only form if both sides are pulled with equal intensity.”

  “You need proof,” he murmured, his breath puffing over my lips and making them tremble. “The actions that go with the words. The words themselves. And the belief that I’m the man to stand at your side, not in front of you or behind you. Equal, one hundred percent.”

  I nodded. “No matter who’s watching or what they see.”

  Rather than respond with words, he cupped his hand over my belly and placed his lips tenderly on mine. He didn’t push for more, just tormented me with the soft, lingering weight of his mouth.

  All too soon, he eased back, removing the warmth of his palm on my belly. “Have a good night.”

  I was still shivering after he’d gone.

  What new angle was this he was playing? Part of why I’d raced away from the table was my certainty he would probably go into some kind of caveman routine about Moose. Oliver was so concerned about appearances, but he was also insanely jealous. Drunk Oliver had to be even worse. But he’d barely spared the other man a glance.

  The entirety of his attention had been on me. And my belly. As if Moose’s exuberant greeting held no bearing on our lives.

  It didn’t.

  If Oliver had asked me to go home with him, to talk or otherwise, I would’ve said yes. How could I not? He preyed on my heart—and the rest of me—with a skill no other man ever had. I didn’t want this rift to continue between us. All I wanted was for him to tell me he cared. Not just to insinuate it, but to say the actual words.

  Yet he was showing me in his own way. The origami. His speech about the knot. The way he so carefully touched my stomach. He wasn’t indifferent, and he wasn’t just suggesting marriage for propriety’s sake. There was more there—on both sides.

  I just didn’t know if I would live long enough for him to fully acknowledge it.

  By the time I made it back out to the table, Oliver and Seth were squabbling about something involving point spreads—proof Oliver had to be drunk, because he wasn’t interested in sports most of the time—and Kelsey was holding court with both Moose and the man Seth and Oliver had come with.

  “There you are,” Kelsey said, smiling broadly. “I’ve been setting up dates for us. Well, not date-dates,” she amended when Oliver seemed to take an interest in the conversation.

  I smiled to myself. I didn’t want him to act like a jealous jerk, but it was nice to know he cared. That he was paying attention even while he was engaged in a friendly battle with his brother.

  Nothing was nicer than that.

  “Hi, I’m Dare.” The attractive, shaggy blond-haired guy with Oliver and Seth leaned forward to shake my hand. “You’re Sage?”

  “I am. You work at the car place. I knew you looked familiar. I’m pretty sure my spark plugs are dirty.” Someone growled, though I couldn’t say if it was Kelsey or Oliver.

  Perhaps both.

  “Sure. C’mon in whenever is good for you. I’ll fit you in.”

  “I just bet,” Oliver said darkly.

  Drunk or not, some things never changed. And thank God for that.

  “So, dates, huh?” I asked brightly. “I mean, not sex-related dates, but what exactly?” I only barely resisted slapping myself in the face.

  Sweet mercy, would I ever stop talking while I was ahead? At least when I was with Kelsey, it was a competition which of us would say the more inappropriate thing.

  Kelsey smiled as she plucked a peanut from the bowl. “Just friendly get-togethers. All of us. Who doesn’t need friends, right?”

  “Sure.” I exchanged a look with Oliver, and Lord, if my nipples didn’t poke right through my sweater, it wasn’t from lack of impetus.

  That man was going to set my damn panties on fire.

  “Not that you need any more male friends, since you’re already knocked up. Oh shoot, Sage, I’m sorry!” Kelsey glanced around as if just realizing where she was—and exactly how many people could hear her—and shoved the bowl of peanuts at Dare. “Nuts?”

  A giggle escaped me. My life might be screwed up right now—so screwed up—but I’d made a new friend. We probably shouldn’t go out in public together though.

  “Oh, congratulations are in order then.” Moose went to give me another hug, and I danced away from him into Seth’s arms before he could. Moose’s hugs had always been awesome, but no need to wave a large pregnant woman in front of a bull.

  The bull being Oliver. Which wasn’t entirely wrong, because even with my lack of experience, the dude was built. And I knew this because I’d looked online.

  Hey, adult movies were vital parts of a woman’s sexual education. Especially if she wasn’t getting any. Like right now.

  “Thank you, Moose,” I said brightly, clinging to Seth as he drew me in for a hug. “Just had to hug my new brother-in-law—I mean, not because of Oliver, but he’s married to my bestie, and she’s like my sister. Dear God, get me out of here,” I mumbled into Seth’s shirt as I buried my face.

  Seth laughed. “It’s really true? Oliver confirmed it, but holy shit.”

  “He’s telling people?”

  That was big. We weren’t married and he was sharing it anyway.

  Of course, drunk. But still. I’d take victories in whatever shape they arrived in.

  “He just told us.” Seth squeezed me in a quick embrace then eased back to look down between us as if he expected me to have popped a belly within the time span of our conversation. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” I might have cut off his circulation when I gripped his hand. “Can you make everyone in the bar stop staring at me now?”

  “Big announcement. But I don’t think everyone heard.”

  “Really?”

  “No. But unfortunately, everyone who didn’t will probably hear within the hour thanks to the gossip network.”

  “Not making me feel better,” I said out of the side of my mouth as Dare touched my shoulder.

  “Oliver is one lucky guy.” Dare grinned. “I’ll clean those spark plugs on the house.”

  I waited to hear that telltale sound of disgust from Oliver’s camp, but when I glanced his way, he was just observing us, hands in his pockets, his expression pensive. Almost sad. “Oliver is a very lucky guy,” he murmured, loud enough that only I could hear.

  Or maybe I could read his lips because he was finally saying exactly what I’d wished for all along.

  20

  Oliver

  I was never drinking to excess again. Nor would I wear ripped jeans and a T-shirt that said, “hold my beer—or is that my gun?” My fault for not reading the front of the shirt I grabbed at the store. Also, my fault for pouring my woes into alcohol.

  After that night at The Spinning Wheel, I figured everyone on earth would know Sage was pregnant. The thought didn’t bother me as much as I would have expected
, considering I hadn’t finished getting my ducks in a row.

  Stupid saying, by the way.

  Anyway, even without them being precisely in place yet, I didn’t mind people knowing she was pregnant, and that some of the townspeople might find out it was by me. We weren’t married, and no one even knew we were dating. We never had. Not in any traditional sense. But I’d asked her to go out with me via origami, and though we’d had some contact since I’d posed that question, she hadn’t addressed it. At least not yet.

  It had been nearly two weeks. Two weeks of staring at that photo of us in the throne at the Elvis chapel, sent to us by the receptionist. I had looked at the picture so much I could recreate every detail down to the kind of strap on Sage’s shoes.

  Every day without her around seemed like a damn eternity. I almost had everything in place. Almost.

  I knocked on the door to my father’s office. This conversation was another important part.

  “Come on in, son.”

  I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. “Thank you for making time to see me this afternoon.”

  “Of course. I figured you had something weighty on your mind if you cleaned your slate of meetings in order to discuss it. You’ve been burning the midnight oil, working night and day. Spring is always our busiest season, but you seem to be getting a jump.”

  “I am. But not just for the usual reasons.” I faced my father from the opposite side of his desk without taking a seat. For this, I needed to remain on my feet. “I’m going to be reducing my hours for a while. I considered taking a leave of absence, but I’m hopeful I can do both.”

  My father steepled his hands over his blotter. His hair was streaked with more white than it had been just a few months ago, his eyes more heavily lined. But there was a lightness to him I couldn’t remember.

  He also didn’t react the way he would have a year ago. He just nodded and laced his fingers together. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I got Sage pregnant.”

  Okay, that wasn’t what I’d planned to say. I also didn’t expect him to merely raise a brow. Perhaps he’d already heard the news. “So, you’re going to do the right thing and marry the girl.”