Changing Fate (Changing Teams Series Book 3)

by Jennifer Allis Provost

  Cin laughed and wiggled out of my arms, then she rolled over and pushed me flat on my back. “Is that so?”

  “Or maybe she inherited a ton of genes from her awesome mama,” I said, pulling her on top of me.

  “Her dad’s pretty awesome too.” Cin straddled my hips, giving me an unobstructed view of her round breasts and still-flat belly. “I hope her dad loves me as much as he used to.”

  “More,” I said, fitting my cock against Cin. “More than ever.” I pushed upward, loving the little shudder that racked her body. Even after all these years, Cin still fit me like a glove. “You okay?”

  “Perfect,” she replied, moving in a slow rhythm. “Just fucking perfect.”

  ***

  After proving just how much I loved Cin, she ran herself a bath and I looked over the remains of last night’s dinner. We’d gone out to a nearby bar and grill, and the portions were so huge we’d ended up taking almost half our meal back to our room. While that was the frugal option, my burger had not aged well, and Cin’s salad looked like something the Creature from the Black Lagoon had coughed up.

  Since I had a pregnant woman to feed, I called the front desk and asked if they could send something up. The day manager told me that they didn’t normally do room service, but I explained that Cin wasn’t feeling well, hence our absence at breakfast. The fact that the owner was an old friend of my mother’s worked in my favor, and the kitchen agreed to send up a couple plates. Lunch accomplished, I stepped into the bathroom.

  “What’s up?” Cin asked from behind a mountain of bubbles. She and the claw foot tub were getting on quite well.

  “Lunch will be sent up in a few,” I said. “I’m going to grab a shower before it gets here.”

  I stepped inside the glass enclosure and turned the water up as hot as it would go. Not a minute later, Cin stepped in beside me.

  “Bath wasn’t enough?” I asked. “How dirty do you get in New York?”

  “Hush,” Cin said, sliding her arms around me. “I wanted to hold you.”

  Well, I’d have to be an idiot not to go along with that, now wouldn’t I? I turned around and gathered her against me, letting the hot water cascade over us. After holding her for a few minutes, I murmured, “Britt’s coming up later today. She’ll be bringing you some clothes.”

  “Great,” Cin said into my chest. “My daughter gets to witness yet another of my humiliations.”

  “Our daughter will be thrilled to see us together,” I said. When Cin remained silent, I asked, “What, do you want to go back to Pat?”

  “No. Never.” Cin shifted in my arms, laid her cheek against my chest. “I just wish I’d been one of those June Cleaver mothers, the ones who knew everything and never messed up and always wore pearls. I wanted to be better for Britt.”

  “Hey,” I said, tilting her chin up, “you were the best mom in history, no question about that. And I’ll give you a pearl necklace whenever you’d like.”

  “Sean,” she shrieked, pushing at my chest. “That was awful!”

  I shrugged, and grabbed the soap. “Let’s get you clean, dirty girl,” I said as I lathered up my hands. “Our lunch will be here soon.”

  We got out of the bathroom just as room service knocked on our door. Lunch turned out to be turkey sandwiches with a side of bacon and chilled fruit salad; I guessed it was breakfast’s leftovers along with what the staff usually had for their midday meal. No matter how our menu had originated it was delicious, and Cin and I devoured every last bite.

  “You know, pregnant women aren’t supposed to be this hungry,” I said as Cin demolished the last of my bacon. “Not until later on, at least.”

  “You don’t remember how much I ate when I was carrying Britt?” Cin countered. “I’ve never been so famished in my life.” She chewed for a moment, then added, “The funny thing is, yesterday morning I couldn’t be in the same car with a muffin. I ended up throwing the poor thing—and a banana—right out the window. I was so freaked out I could hardly breathe, never mind eat.”

  “Maybe that’s a sign that you were right to leave New York.”

  “Duh,” said Cin, the strict grammarian who’d published three novels. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  As I watched Cin wolf down the last of her lunch, I remembered Emily’s pregnancy. Granted, they were two very different women, and Emily had been carrying twins instead of just one baby, but when Emily was pregnant she hadn’t behaved anything like Cin had when she’d been carrying Britt. Cin had seen her impending motherhood as a gift, whereas Emily had viewed it as something to deal with, and get over as soon as possible. About a month after Britt was born, I’d asked Cin if she’d have any more of my babies. Her answer had been a resounding yes.

  When I’d asked Emily if she wanted more children, she’d looked at me as if I’d asked her to walk through lava.

  “You gonna have any more babies?” I asked Cin, testing the waters.

  Cin raised an eyebrow. “I’m barely pregnant with this one, and you want to plan more?” she countered. “Out with it, Sean. How many do you want?”

  “As many as you’ll give me,” I replied.

  Cin leaned across the table and kissed me, her lips tasting of bacon and melon. “’Kay. Since you’re good with twins, maybe we can work that angle.”

  I laughed, but refrained from mentioning that two infants were somehow more than twice the work of one baby. “I’ll pick up some vitamins on our way home.”

  A dark cloud passed over Cin’s face. “Am I going home with you? Is that what we should do?”

  I grabbed her hands. “I think it is.”

  Cin rubbed her thumb across my knuckles. “What about Emily and the girls?”

  “I really don’t know,” I replied. “I want the girls with us, if that’s okay with you.”

  Cin nodded. “Of course it is, I love the girls. But will Emily allow that?”

  “As far as I’m concerned Emily can stay in the house too, if she wants. The place is so big we’ll probably never see her.” I didn’t add that Emily was far more interested in school than parenting; sometimes, I wondered if she’d wished she could get rid of the burden of motherhood, or pack up the girls and leave and sue me for all I was worth. Hopefully, that was just my imagination working overtime.

  I kissed Cin’s knuckles, then I hauled her to her feet. “No more bad talk today,” I said. “Let’s go for a walk, and get our baby some fresh air.”

  Cin smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “All right, let’s show Merriam Webster around the town.”

  Chapter

  Twenty-Four

  Cindy

  Present Day

  After we’d called the front desk and asked what we should do about our plates and such, and were told to leave everything stacked up in the hall outside our door, Sean and I left the inn and walked to the town square. We were in one of those sleepy little towns that looked more like a postcard than a place where people actually lived, and I loved every bit of it. I’d always wanted a quiet life in a place tucked away from the hustle and bustle, a place where I knew all the shopkeepers and could spend my days writing on a sunny porch or in a coffee shop. Instead, I lived in the most hectic state in the nation, while some other woman lived in the quiet old house Sean had bought for his comic store.

  No, Sean had bought that house for he and I, and I was finally going to live there.

  Sean and I strolled past the rows of shops with artsy little shingles hanging over their front doors announcing their wares. We ended up on the edge of the town green, and were gazing at one of those ubiquitous white clapboard New England churches. There was one up in my hometown, and a younger me had once dreamed of getting married in it.

  “What are you thinking about?” Sean asked as he stood behind me, and wrapped his arms around my waist.

  “That church,” I said, jerking my chin toward it. “Does it remind you of the one back home?”

  “A little.” Sean pressed his forehead aga
inst my hair. “It’s going to be okay, baby.”

  “I know.” I also knew that Sean heard my voice waver, but he didn’t call me on it. He probably thought I was freaking out over nothing, but Sean didn’t know Patrick like I did, didn’t know the atrocities that man was capable of. God, I hoped Patrick would be so disgusted with my cheating on him that he would just set me free.

  Ha. That was a pipe dream if I’d ever heard one.

  Sean peeked over my shoulder toward his wrist where it lay against me, and checked his watch. “We should get back. Britt and Sam will probably be here soon.”

  “Sam’s coming up too?” I asked.

  “Yeah, he’s driving.” I must have made a face, because he added, “Britt would have told Sam everything we told her, anyway. Did you really want her driving all the way up here alone?”

  “No, I guess not.” I looped Sean’s arm around my shoulders, and we walked back toward the bed and breakfast. “Do you believe in second chances?”

  He kissed my temple. “I’m living one, aren’t I?”

  ***

  Britt and Sam arrived in town shortly before five. Sam, who had to be the most organized person on the planet, had thought to book himself and Britt a room at the bed and breakfast, which I supposed was a given based on how much luggage they’d brought with them. Imagine my surprise when I learned that two of their suitcases were for me and Sean.

  “Dad asked me to bring you some of my clothes, which was fine, and you’re totally welcome to them, but we went shopping instead,” Britt explained. “I figured you wouldn’t want used socks or underwear.”

  “You figured right.” She had opened the suitcases on the bed, and I looked over the contents. In addition to the basics, they had brought me some knit shirts and sweaters, yoga pants, a pair of jeans, a cute blue dress with a pair of tights, and some black ankle boots. They’d even gotten Sean a pair of khaki cargo pants and a couple of shirts. “What do I owe you for all of this?”

  “Well, you could start by telling us what exactly is going on here,” Britt suggested.

  My eyes narrowed. “I meant financially.”

  “Don’t worry about the money,” Britt said. “Consider it your gift for International Second Chance Day.”

  “I am unfamiliar with that holiday.”

  “All the cool kids celebrate it.” Britt bit her lip, and asked, “Can you even access your accounts right now?”

  I sighed. “Probably not. I withdrew the maximum allowed from two different ATMs yesterday morning, but I’m sure my card’s been cancelled since then. I still have the card for my publishing account, but who knows if Patrick managed to do something to that one.”

  “Publishing account?” Sam asked. He’d been sitting quietly on the couch and doing a wonderful job of not staring at Sean and me, as if it was perfectly normal for a married woman and someone who wasn’t her husband to be sharing a room at a quaint New England inn. Midwesterners are very polite people. “You write a book or something?”

  “Cin wrote a couple,” Sean said. “All of them were about parenting Britt.”

  “They must have been best sellers,” Sam said.

  “Of course they were, they’re all about me,” Britt said, then she jumped onto Sam’s lap and kissed his cheek. “You’re still getting royalties?”

  “Here and there. It seems that the subject of being a young parent with an unruly girl child is an evergreen topic.” I sat on the foot of the bed, and took Sean’s hand. “I’m pregnant.”

  “No way,” Britt said. “Was it the time at our wedding?”

  Sean grinned, but I just rubbed my eyes. Someday, my life would be such that everyone would not know when and where I had sex or got pregnant. “Yes, evidently so.”

  “This is great,” Britt said. “So you guys are together again, right?”

  “Yes,” Sean said, while I said, “It’s complicated.” Sean pursed his lips, and gestured for me to explain.

  “Complicated how?” Britt asked.

  “There’s my lengthy and somewhat ironclad prenuptial agreement, for starters,” I replied. “Patrick has a mountain of paperwork designed to keep me by his side.”

  “There has to be a way around the contracts,” Sam said. “If you’d like, I can speak to my mother about your situation. She’s no longer a practicing attorney, but she is a liaison between several military and civilian lawyers.”

  “Thank you.” I didn’t really know what any lawyer could do for me, military or otherwise. Patrick’s one superpower was twisting the law around to meet his or his client’s agendas. “There’s also Emily and the girls to consider.”

  Britt looked from me to her father. “Crap, Dad.”

  Sean deflated a bit. “Yeah, I…” He shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the girls.”

  “They are rather awesome,” Britt said.

  “Awful pretty too,” Sam added. “And the quick one—Ronnie?—she loves cherry lollipops.”

  “That’s Penny,” Britt said. “Ronnie likes chocolate.”

  “And I never wanted to hurt Emily,” Sean continued. “I never really wanted anything from her. She’s a good person, and no matter what she’ll always be the girls’ mom.” Sean flopped back on the bed. “This is so fucked up.”

  “Pardon me, but I don’t think it’s fucked up at all,” Sam said. “You, sir, are not happy with Emily. And you,” Sam nodded toward me, “are downright miserable with Patrick. Maybe this baby was meant to be, so you two could get back to where you belong. With each other.”

  Sean propped himself up on his elbow and put a hand on my belly. “What do you think, Cin? Think our son-in-law’s right, and our little Merriam Webster was meant to happen? So we could find each other again?”

  Sam frowned, and looked from Sean and me to Britt. “Merriam Webster?”

  “We used to joke that we’d have a dozen children, all named after reference materials,” I said. I put my hand on top of Sean’s. “The next one was supposed to be Merriam Webster.”

  “Then, the third kid would be Roget Thesaurus, and so on,” Britt said. “So my siblings could all suffer as I have.”

  “No Strunk and White?” Sam asked. “That seems logical, what with you being a writer and all. Or maybe Comic Buyers Guide.”

  I smirked at my daughter. “See, Sam gets it.”

  “Sam is awesome in every way,” Britt said. “So, now what?”

  I looked at my hand atop Sean’s; now what, indeed. “I wish I knew.”

  ***

  Since my and Sean’s hotel room wasn’t really set up for entertaining, we took the kids out to the bar and grill for dinner. It was where Sean and I had eaten the night before, and the food had been excellent, if a bit pricey. If Sean and I were going to move forward with our miraculous second chance, we would need to work out other dining arrangements, and quick.

  “This is nice,” Britt said, as we took our seats. “I think this is the kind of vibe Donnie’s going for with his place.”

  “How are he and Astrid doing?” I asked. I’d always liked Astrid. She was a free spirit that lived for her dreams, and didn’t let anyone push her around. I could take a lesson or two from her.

  “Awesomely,” Britt replied. “She’s three months along now.”

  “Oh.” I’d forgotten she was pregnant. “And they’re going to open a restaurant and have a baby, all at the same time?”

  “A couple of crazy kids is what they are,” Sam said. “But they have Mel acting as their manager, so they’re in good hands.”

  “Mel?” I repeated. “Wait, do you mean Melody?”

  “Sure do,” Sam replied. “For all that Patrick dismissed her as nothing but looks, she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

  Britt nodded. “Mel organized just about everything about our wedding. If it wasn’t for her, me and Sam would still be trying to get a marriage certificate.”

  “License, angel,” Sam said. “We needed a marriage license.”

  “Oh.” B
ritt grinned sheepishly. “See what I mean? Anyway, Astrid and Donnie aren’t the only ones reproducing. Remember Jorge, the man who made my wedding dress?”

  “And the girls’ dresses,” Sean said.

  “That’s him. He’s relocating his shop to an entirely new place.” Britt paused to sip her water. “Matilda’s already like a million years pregnant, but she’s still helping him with everything.”

  “Actually, she’s about six months along,” Sam said.

  “Whatever,” Britt said, waving away the facts. “My point is that she’ll be ginormously pregnant and relocating a business at the same time. Can you imagine that?”

  “I can’t.” When I was pregnant with Britt I’d had a hard enough time managing meals and my homework. “Seems like everyone you know is pregnant right now.”

  While Britt mulled that over, Sean asked, “Will you two be next?”

  “What? No,” Britt squeaked. “Maybe in five years I’ll consider children. Maybe in ten.”

  Sam smiled. “That soon, angel?”

  Britt gave him a look. “If you’re lucky, cowboy.”

  The waitress came by with a basket of rolls and asked for our drink order. While she went around the table, my phone buzzed in my bag. I grabbed it out of habit, forgetting that I was with the only three people who were supposed to know about this number.

  Unknown: I know where you are. Come home, and we’ll talk.

  I set the phone on the table, willing myself to not have an anxiety attack in the middle of the restaurant. “What is it, Cin?” Sean asked.

  “Patrick texted me.”

  Sean dropped his roll. “Just now?”

  “Yes, just now,” I replied. “Well, it came through just now.”

  Britt snatched my phone. “Holy crap, he knows you’re here?”

  “How is that even possible?” Sean asked. “He doesn’t know a damn thing. He’s lying, like always.”