The Lucky One (Carolina Connections Book 3)

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The Lucky One (Carolina Connections Book 3) Page 18

by Sylvie Stewart


  I moved to stand when my mom’s strained voice came across the table. “Bailey.”

  I finally looked at her and saw the tears washing down her face. And she was smiling. Smiling.

  “Bailey.” She gripped my hand tightly. “You’re having a baby.” Her voice broke on the last word.

  I looked at our hands and then back to her face, unable to keep the smile from mine. “Yeah. I am.” I shrugged.

  She laughed, then I laughed, and then we both started crying because that’s what pregnant women do all the fucking time, apparently. And then we were hugging.

  Somewhere in there, my dad quietly left the room.

  An hour later, I drove home, still smiling over my mother’s unexpected reaction to the defilement and sinful impregnation of her youngest child. I simultaneously ignored all thoughts of my father. He’d come around—I had to believe that.

  It felt good having some solidarity. My mind was a little more at ease and I could think more clearly. I knew I’d have to talk to Jake soon, but I was dreading it.

  What did you say to a guy you adored who announced he was marrying you because that’s what a good guy should do? I was sick of never being good enough as just me—as just who I am. Anton had wanted me to be someone else, and Jake only wanted me because he’d knocked me up. Sure, he was attracted to my body, but I’d be selling myself short if I settled for that, right?

  I’d had my rules for a reason and I’d foolishly let them fall to the wayside. Now I was going to have a baby and Jake would always be around to remind me of what I would never have. I was coming to understand that this baby truly did change everything. Not just every plan I might have had for my future, but any plan I may have had for protecting my heart. This baby came equipped with its own little sledgehammer to use on the Great Wall as well as the ability to assist my heart in tossing the damn rope ladder over to the other side.

  My smile from the thoughts of my mother was long gone when I pulled into my driveway and stopped short. There, on my front porch, was not a container of delicious kimchi, but a very tall, very handsome, and very unwelcome Jake Beckett. I feared the rope ladder was being prepared for tossing at that very moment.

  I groaned and opened the garage door. Clearly, my threats to his life and man parts had not been as effective as I’d hoped. I pulled in and put the car in park. No sooner had I stepped from my car when Jake pinned me against the door and planted a searing kiss on my startled lips.

  There went any chance of clear thoughts for our upcoming conversation.

  He pulled back after a few moments and presented me with a bouquet of flowers. I looked from the flowers to his eyes and then to his lips—because, let’s face it, my mind was still on that kiss—before going back to his eyes. They were filled with emotion. I saw the heat from our kiss, but I also saw a different kind of longing, and perhaps apprehension. I didn’t know what to make of it, so I looked down to the flowers again, accepting them.

  “These are beautiful, Jake,” I said quietly. “Nobody has ever given me flowers before.”

  You see! All clear thought—vanished! Why in the hell did I tell him that? It was so embarrassing.

  “You can’t be serious,” he responded.

  I ignored his comment. “So, I guess you still want to talk, huh.” I turned to enter the house, assuming he’d follow. There was nothing I could do at this point. And even if I tried, he’d just kiss me stupid again and I’d probably agree to not only marry him but adopt twelve Burundian babies while we were at it.

  I took the flowers to my kitchen counter, unsure what one did with flowers. I was sure I didn’t have a vase. Jake, somehow understanding my predicament, opened one cabinet after another until he unearthed a water pitcher and proceeded to fill it at the sink. This gave me a moment to breathe again—and to ogle him from behind. He really was quite remarkable and I couldn’t help but pat myself on the back a little for getting knocked up by a guy who would undoubtedly make a gorgeous baby.

  He turned around and retrieved the flowers, placing them in the pitcher and setting the whole arrangement on my island. We both gazed at it. The flowers were pink and fragrant, and their puffy collections of little blooms filled the area above the makeshift vase.

  “I need to tell you something,” Jake said.

  I steeled myself and forced my eyes to meet his. I nodded.

  “I made a mistake.”

  My stomach dropped to the floor and my chest began to constrict before he cut me off with both hands out.

  “Wait! That came out completely wrong. Shit. I’m terrible at this.”

  Well, that made two of us.

  “What I mean is, I went about this all the wrong way. I was thinking about the baby and what he needs and I wasn’t thinking about what you need.”

  I resumed a state of semi-normal breathing. That was a decent start, so I remained silent, anxious to hear what would come next.

  “I want you to know that, yes, I want to be here for the baby and for you, but it’s not out of obligation.”

  My heart started racing. Sure, this was no declaration of love, but it was a far sight better than the Neanderthal proclamations he’d delivered at his mom’s house.

  “It’s more than that. Surely, you know that. I mean, why else does a guy call and text until he’s in danger of losing his man card?” he teased.

  I had to grin a little at that. I heard the faint sounds of a tiny sledgehammer.

  “And if you want to take things slowly, I’m okay with that.”

  I smiled, but he quickly amended his statement.

  “For now.”

  For now. I guess I could agree to that. What other choice did I have?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Allow Me to Hand You Your Ass

  JAKE

  This was progress. I’d gotten her to agree to tolerate me for the time being, and I still had possession of my testicles so there was that. And that kiss. If I’d had any doubt about her body’s feelings for me, they were completely put to rest. Even with all this craziness to figure out, she still wanted me. Now I had to get her brain—and her heart—caught up with her body.

  We talked a bit longer and made arrangements for the doctor’s appointment in a couple days. I was nervous as hell and knew Bailey felt the same. I refrained from telling her about my alien suspicions since things were otherwise going well. I even snuck in another kiss on my way out, and my body cursed me for not asking to stay. But she looked tired and we both had work in the morning.

  It wasn’t until my drive home that I remembered her comment about never having received flowers before. How was that possible? What was wrong with her previous boyfriends? I would have thought she’d have guys lining up to bring her things. I made a mental note to get her more gifts in the future. I was becoming downright domestic and the little alien hadn’t even arrived yet!

  Late afternoon the following day, the shit decided it was time to hit the fuck out of the fan. It started with a text from Mark and went tits up from there.

  Mark: Heads up - you and your balls may want to move back to Florida - or maybe Canada.

  Jake: Huh?

  Mark: Riordan's here. Nice job knocking Bailey up, by the way. Asshole!

  Shit. Oh shit.

  This was not good.

  Jake: Where are you?

  Mark: Apartments on New Garden

  Jake: On my way. Keep him there and DON’T tell Bailey.

  Mark: Whatever you say…Dad. Asshole!

  Jake: And if you can try to keep him from announcing Bailey’s business to everyone, that would be great.

  Jake: And, yeah, I am an asshole.

  This was most definitely not good. Bailey was going to flip the fuck out. I signaled to Tom that I had an emergency and needed to run. I’m sure I broke every speed limit and a few other laws in my attempt to get over there before Bailey’s dad could do more harm. I had to find out what was going on, but my guess was he was looking for me.

  When I go
t to the building site, I slammed the truck into park and jumped out. I could already see the tall frame of Riordan Murphy standing in front of several of the crew, gesticulating wildly, his voice carrying across the lot to where I stood. I may have spoken too soon regarding my sustained ownership of my testicles. Not only was the Murphy patriarch present, but the protective brother was as well. It was time to bid my balls farewell. If Riordan didn’t hack them off, Nate surely would.

  I cautiously approached, working out my game plan as I went. I could tell the moment Mark spotted me because he covered his eyes and shook his head. This caused Riordan and Nate to whip around and catch me in their twin death glares. I had no idea the old man could move so fast. Before I knew it, he’d lunged toward me and clutched the front of my shirt in one hand while his other formed a fist.

  I found myself pondering the proper etiquette for this type of situation. It wasn’t like I could really defend myself. I might injure Riordan in the process, and I’m sure I deserved whatever was in store anyway. I had, in fact, impregnated his daughter. Which meant I had, in fact, had sex with her. You’d think those would be considered one sin but I was pretty sure they counted as two. Riordan Murphy is an Irish Catholic father and Bailey is his only daughter. I was guessing my actions were grounds for justifiable homicide. Add in his ignorance of my feelings for his daughter—or even the fact that we were sort of dating—and I figured my chances here were not good.

  “You dirty son of a bitch!” he yelled as he shook me. “I should have known it was you. Only been here two months and already turning things upside down!”

  Nate was scowling beside us and doing nothing to help me or his dad, for that matter.

  I could see the crew pretending not to listen and doing a piss poor job of it. Mark gestured to them to get back to work as he crossed over to join us. I looked at him in silent question.

  How the fuck did this happen?

  He shook his head and mouthed “Later,” before addressing his boss.

  “Riordan, I know you’re upset. No offense, sir, but this isn’t really the time or place. Maybe you and Jake and Bailey can all meet up after work and have a talk.”

  “You’d better believe I’ll be on that guest list too,” Nate growled. I think he was deciding which of my organs to auction off first.

  My shirt still in his fist, Riordan cut in. “Mark. I suggest you get back to work.”

  I decided to jump into the fray. “Mr. Murphy, I know this is a shock. It’s a shock to all of us.”

  Nate scoffed, hands on his hips, his eyes skewering me.

  Riordan cut me off. “Oh, it’s a shock, is it? You put your filthy hands and your filthy,” he paused, raising his eyes to the heavens and growling an indecipherable word before continuing, “on my daughter and you’re shocked that she’s with child? Are you stupid as well as a lothario?” Nate snarled in agreement.

  “Nate. Riordan. This is crazy. You can’t talk about Bailey like this without including her in the conversation,” Mark began.

  I wasn’t sure I agreed completely. I didn’t want her having to hear all of this. I was sure she’d be mortified.

  “Shut your trap, Mark. This is between me and your brother.” Riordan drew his fist back deliberately and there was nothing I could do. I would have to take the punch. Just as I closed my eyes and braced, I heard the spewing of gravel under tires and a slamming door.

  “What in the holy hell do you think you’re doing, Dad?! Let him go!”

  Shit. I opened my eyes again to see the tall blonde storming over, hair flying everywhere and arms out wide in incredulity. The beast was unleashed. And it was both pissed the fuck off and hormonal. I almost felt bad for Riordan and Nate.

  Almost.

  “Bailey, stay out of it!” Riordan yelled but didn’t take his eyes off me. “This boy knows what’s coming to him.” Before he could throw the punch, Bailey slid in between us. All of us tried to push her aside in some comical version of musical chairs where we all just wanted anyone but her in the middle. She shoved back and slapped at our hands, and it was finally Mark who physically lifted her and held her to the side while Nate, Riordan, and I continued to face off.

  “You’re being ridiculous!” she yelled. “And, Nate, I can’t believe you’re a part of this!”

  “You’re my sister. It was one thing when you were dating, but he got you pregnant, Bay!”

  “Jesus. Why don’t you guys just yell it a little louder? I don’t think all the church-goers across the street heard you!” At that point, we all looked across New Garden to the church parking lot. There was, indeed, a small group of parishioners giving us the stink-eye. She had a point.

  Nate managed to look a bit sheepish, but then shrugged. Riordan didn’t budge, and his hold on my shirt tightened. I stood awkwardly with my hands hanging limply at my sides, having no clue what to do.

  “Look, sir, with all due respect, this is really between your daughter and me, and we’re handling it. I’m sorry if this is upsetting, but what’s done is done.”

  He looked at me incredulously but didn’t bring his fist back up. “Respect? Where was this due respect when you dishonored me and my daughter?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Dad. This isn’t 1950 and it isn’t Ireland. I’m a grown woman. God, this is so embarrassing—can’t you see that?” She was still struggling to get loose from Mark. Thankfully my brother’s hold was like a vice—I didn’t want her getting inadvertently hurt if fists started flying.

  “The only thing I find embarrassing is how this man should feel, not even asking for your hand! Not even coming with you when you told your parents! That is the embarrassing part.” His eyes flashed in anger.

  Bailey sighed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but he didn’t know I was telling you. And,” she paused and sighed again, “he did ‘ask for my hand.’” She made air quotes and pursed her lips in exasperation.

  Riordan released my shirt, and he and Nate both took a step back at that.

  “Is that true?” asked Riordan.

  I straightened myself as well as I could. “It is. I would like nothing better than to marry your daughter.”

  As if some spell had been broken, Riordan clapped his hands together and declared, “Well then! It’s settled!”

  Nate seemed wary, having met his sister before and all.

  “It’s most definitely not settled,” growled Bailey, making one last attempt to break Mark’s hold. “Buffy, if you don’t let me go I swear I’m going to borrow one of Fiona’s stilettos and make you scream—and not in the good way.” She finally wrested herself free and stood looking around at all of us. “I just want to say thank you for making this the most humiliating day of my life.” She turned to Nate and Riordan. “Go home. You’ve done enough.” Then to Mark, “I’m going to assume you’re the one who told my dad about Jake and me?”

  He tossed his hands out to the side. “He’s my boss. And how was I supposed to know why he was asking? I didn’t know my asshole brother had knocked you up!” He shot me a glare.

  “God, would everyone just stop yelling that out?!”

  “I would have fired him on the spot if he hadn’t told me,” said Riordan.

  Bailey whirled around, “Why are you still here, Dad?”

  “Don’t talk to me that way, young lady.”

  “Bailey—” Nate tried to cut in.

  “No! Everybody mind your own business. For the last time!” she practically screeched and I was done. I was getting her out of here. I started toward her when another voice cut into the melee.

  “Which one of you is Mark Beckett?”

  We all turned to see a young auburn-haired woman in a sleek business suit. She held an envelope in one hand and stood with her heels planted firmly on the gravel lot. Bailey hung her head in utter defeat and I continued over to put an arm around her.

  The new arrival looked expectantly at the rest of us until Mark finally raised a hand. “That’s me.”

  She marche
d over to him through the silent crowd, her sudden appearance having shut the rest of us up. She held the envelope out to Mark and he took it, giving her a quizzical look.

  The woman looked him squarely in the eye. “Mark Beckett, this is to notify you you’re being sued for assault and battery. If an acceptable settlement cannot be reached, we will be pressing criminal charges as well.” Then she turned and strode to the edge of the lot where she dropped into the seat of her sedan and drove off.

  Everyone stared dumbly at Mark. He just stared at the envelope. I was afraid I knew what this was about. And not only would it screw with Mark’s life, but I was guessing it would secure us both firmly in Bailey’s doghouse.

  Fucking Anton.

  The entire group was seated at a large high top at Jake’s, our favorite bar. Given the name, it’s obviously a cool place to hang out—but I can’t take any credit for that.

  From the look Mark had given me moments after receiving the damn envelope, I knew he and I were on the same page. We needed to get everybody else to go home and then we’d regroup to figure this out between the two of us. Our plan, however, went to shit—as usual.

  First to stick his nose in was Nate, unsurprisingly. Then Bailey, then Riordan. He was followed up by a couple other crew members, including Trey. Nobody wanted to see Mark get into any trouble, and everybody but me insisted this must be some huge misunderstanding. There was lots of talking all at once, and questions were thrown like freaking confetti until Mark’s voice rose above the din and told everybody to shut the hell up.

  He assigned Trey the task of finishing up the day with the crew while the rest of us planned to reconvene at the bar. One tactical call to Erin, Bailey’s mom, and Riordan was promptly uninvited. He left for home with promises that his dealings with me were far from over. Nate, of course, called Laney, who in turn called Fiona, and the female contingent descended on Jake’s. It was a regular brouhaha.

 

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