“I’m starting to think love’s just in the fairytales.”
“Don’t give up on love just because you’ve met a couple duds.”
“Try a million duds.”
I nudged her with my shoulder. “It exists, cowgirl. Maybe this Flynn guy just needs a second chance to prove it to you.”
“Ren.”
I held my grin despite the wave of heat rushing through my chest. If he loved her back and if he really could provide for her and their baby, what better situation was out there?
Besides, I had Megan.
“Ready to practice the call?” I asked.
She cleared her throat, stretching her legs out in front of her and nodded, holding an invisible phone to her ear. “Ring, ring, graham cracker.”
“Lauren. It’s been a while.”
“That’s your fault, jerk. I’m having your marshmallow. Do you want me back, or not?” The fire in her eyes was enough to burn through the toughest shield and if my own shield was starting to waver around her, I was positive Flynn’s didn’t stand a chance.
I threw my head back and busted up laughing.
She started laughing too.
“Let’s try that again,” I said, wiping my eyes.
Eight
-LAUREN-
We’d practiced seven different scenarios and in all of them I’d called Ren a jerk.
“I guess that’s just how it’s going down,” Carter said, as we stood and gathered the empty bag of marshmallows, the crushed graham cracker box, and the Hershey chocolate bar wrappings. I’d never look at a s’more the same way again.
“Ready for the real call?”
“Hang on.” I pulled out a compact mirror and, getting a good angle on the flickering light from the bonfire, fixed my mascara and lipstick.
“Uh, Lauren, you know he won’t be able to see you, right?”
“It’s my battle armor.”
“Want me to come with you?”
My chest warmed at the tenderness in his tone. If there was anyone who could support me through this call, it was Carter. He knew the truth, and he wasn’t judging. He seemed like a solid friend, and I needed one of those right now. “Actually, yeah, if you’re sure you’re okay with it?”
“I’m sure.”
Warmth surged through my heart and my tough-girl front totally cracked, silent renegade tears running through it because this was too much. He was too much.
“Hang tight, girl. You can do this.”
We walked side by side to the farthest payphone from the path. I wished I could use my smartphone but there was zero reception at Bridgeport—the original 80’s pay phones were actually a lifesaver out here. I blew a nervous breath, lifting the receiver from its cradle, glancing at Carter one last time
“You’re the commander, and this is just a briefing, remember?”
I nodded, trying to embrace his military terms. I was the commander. I was the one deciding the outcome of this pregnancy. And yes, being with Ren would probably be the best thing for my baby. Also, I was pretty sure I loved him. I mean—I slept with him to prove it.
But Ren still walked away. I’d barely just bounced back from our breakup. I wasn’t sure I could handle the sting of his rejection a second time. Especially not now—when everything I wanted was right at my door again. A legit career in the fashion industry, marriage, kids.
“You can do this, Lauren.”
Carter’s steady voice stuck with me as I dialed Ren’s number and waited.
I could do this.
I could do this.
I could do this.
The breeze pushed through a nearby tree, the branches flickering and bobbing, just shadows in the night, before they settled back into place.
The ringtone hummed steadily, reminding me of our baby’s heartbeat.
My breaths shallowed, and my lips were tingling.
“Hello?” Ren asked.
Wow. His voice. It had been so long since I’d heard it. My throat tightened.
“Hello?” he asked again.
“Hello?” He was getting impatient.
I hung up. The shadow of the massive mountain beyond the lake was dwarfed by the night sky behind it.
I swallowed and took another deep breath, running my fingers beneath my eyes. I was afraid to tell Ren, but the thought of having his baby without him knowing was just as constricting.
“No answer?” Carter asked, leaning his arm against the payphone frame, studying me.
“He answered. I just chickened out.”
“You can do it. Remember your tactics.”
Right now, I had to do the responsible thing, and telling him was the responsible thing. I just needed to stay on the phone long enough to say the words.
I dialed. Again.
Three rings later he answered. “Look, if this is a telemarketer, I’m not interested—”
“It’s me, Ren.”
A long silence followed. “Lauren?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh. Sorry. It’s a different number. Uh. I’m right in the middle of my workout. Can I call you back?”
“It’s really important.” I covered my heart and studied the surface of the lake, blanketed by the reflection of the galaxies above.
“Okay?” His voice muffled, footsteps squeaking after that. Something groaned and clicked. “I’m in the locker room.” His voice echoed. “Is everything okay? It’s been a while.”
“Yep, two months.”
“What’s up?”
“Yeah. So, I don’t really know how to say this.”
I glanced at Carter. He nodded.
Ren went quiet, and then said, “Words are probably a good start.”
“Ren, I’m . . . I’m pregnant.”
Another long silence between us, and my legs trembled the whole time. I closed my eyes.
“Are you sure?”
“I went to the doctor yesterday.”
I pressed the receiver to my ear, gnawing my lip as I waited an eternity for a response.
“Are you still there?”
“Sorry. I’m just trying to wrap my mind around it.”
“I wasn’t sure if I should call you.” I gazed out at the snack shop where a line of campers stretched almost to the lake—some of them still little kids, like maybe seven years old. I rubbed my still flat stomach and swallowed. “Look. I . . . I want this baby, Ren. I know you have your career, and I don’t want you to think you have to be a part of anything if you don’t
