“What about Blake?”
“Do you want to take him or let your Dad keep him?”
“How am I going to ask if we aren’t speaking to one another?”
“Will you keep Blake?”
“I mean what if he won’t talk to me?”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“How are you going to take off?”
“Are we going?”
I pulled on my hair, out of breath from the conversation. “How the hell should I know?”
“If I plan it, you aren’t backing out on me.”
“What if I hate where you pick?”
“Then you better start making suggestions.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Patrick
What the ever-loving fuck?
I was going to be a father. Me. A fucking father. Responsible for another human being. With Marlow.
Which would be harder to handle, her or our baby, I didn’t know. Sweat broke out on my forehead. Shit. A father. What did I know about being a dad?
And what was that crap about letting her take care of our pumpkin and knock me out of the picture? No way in hell. I’d already started a draft for how to hedge that.
I had lost my mind. A vacation with Wicked? I swear that woman’s habit of speaking without thinking had rubbed off on me. She’d kill me. Or maybe I’d strangle her first. And I thought I could handle parenting with her?
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Counselor, are you in the courtroom or out to lunch?” The judge stared at me, along with everyone else in the room.
I cleared my throat. “I apologize, your honor. Where were we?”
I found myself standing outside Holt’s garage. When Marlow attempted to leave last night, I hadn’t stopped her, too shell-shocked. She’d seemed indifferent about our baby. Because the child wasn’t her precious Jack’s, she wouldn’t love her as much? She’d all but come out and said I’d never live up to that—man. I will not think ill of the dead.
“If you’re looking for my sister, she’s not here.”
Holt jogged down the stairs.
“You heard from her?”
“Nope. She told me a few days ago she wouldn’t be here today. Some thing with military wives.”
Marlow hanging out with military wives? She wasn’t exactly the social type.
I surveyed the garage. “Place is looking good. Every time I come by it looks closer to opening.”
“You’re here almost every day.” I shrugged. “Did you tell her? About the wedding?”
“I invited her to an event on Thursday. Didn’t say what.” I pushed my suit jacket out of the way and put a hand in my pocket. “This is not a good plan.”
He turned his ball cap around backward. “I don’t know if I want her there.”
“Then we won’t come. You can figure out how to undo the damage.” He’d regret it later, but I’d done all I could do to help.
“Why are you always taking up for her?”
“Hell if I know. Believe me, she’s been as much of a witch to me as she has to you.” Last night was a prime example.
“She made it clear she thinks the wedding is a mistake. She doesn’t want to be there.”
“I beg to differ on that. Well, the part about not wanting to be there. Your wedding. Your call. Let me know before go-time if I’m taking her to the church or out to dinner.”
“How do you do it?”
“What?”
“Put up with her?”
“All of us are misunderstood, some of us just more than others.” As much as she irritated me, it was the little moments when she dropped that wall. Like when she’d brought me breakfast to cure my hangover and apologized for what she’d said about my career.
He rocked on the balls of his feet. “I guess.”
“Has she ever mentioned anywhere she’d like to go?”
“To eat? I can’t remember.”
“To visit. Like the mountains or the country.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you two together?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, we are not.” Sometimes it felt like we were. We’d been operating as some sort of family for weeks . . . and that was before we knew about the pregnancy . . .
“It damn well is my business. That’s my sister.”
“The one you don’t want at your wedding?”
His jaw worked. “It’s not that simple.”
“Sure it is.” I pointed my head toward the door. “You’re busy. I’m going to take off.”
“The ocean,” he said when I was almost to the door. “She always wanted Dad to take us when we were kids.”
“Maybe I’ll see you Thursday. Maybe I won’t.”
New Jersey was a long ass way away. I strolled down her street, taking in the row of houses. This was a good place for a kid to grow up. A little bit of a backyard. Maybe some other children to hang out with. But I’d be damned if I let my baby live in a house that had belonged to another man.
One end of my scarf blew off my neck. I tossed it back over my shoulder. We had so much to think about. Big stuff. Time was already running out. We had seven, maybe eight months to figure out living arrangements, schedules . . . I rubbed my temples.
“I don’t want to only see Pumpkin half the time,” I blurted when she opened the door.
The glazed look about her immediately cleared.
“You should have thought about that before we slept together.” The usual crispness in her voice was absent.
“You feel okay? Did your meeting go well?”
Her nose wrinkled. “What meeting?”
“The one with the military wives.”
“I-uh—” She glanced down at her feet.
“I went by Holt’s. He told me you had some thing.”
“It was fine.” She didn’t move out of the doorway. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you and Blake,” I said without thinking.
Her eyes widened a fraction. “He’s sleep—”
“How!”
“Sounds like he’s awake.” I propped a shoulder against the doorframe. “You’re quiet.”
“Want me to yell at you instead?”
“I’m used to that. This scares me.”
Her lips twitched. “I’m surprised you didn’t just come in.”
I frowned. “I should’ve tried that first. Then I wouldn’t be out here freezing my ass off.”
“You’re a long way from home.”
“Is this where you want to live?”
“It’s where I have to.”
I
