And how was I going to keep the promises I’d made to Marlow on the lawn of that church? I did want to sort this out once and for all, but I wasn’t naïve. That was asking nothing short of a miracle.
I opened my laptop and typed in beaches in a search engine. The Hamptons, Carolinas, California, Oregon, Tahiti. How far could we travel? Was Wicked even up for this?
The Hamptons were tempting. Close, but not so much that we’d be bothered. It was cold, though. She wouldn’t really be able to enjoy the sand or the water.
The exotic locales were a good possibility. If this all went to shit—no, we couldn’t go that far. One day I’d take her—I had to stop thinking like that. Needed to grasp the concept that we would never have a relationship beyond sharing a child.
Then why was I doing this? To try to make her happy? Nothing would please the woman. Some semi-romantic getaway wasn’t going to miraculously change her mind.
But part of me hoped it would.
When Jack had married her, she couldn’t have been the fiery one she was now. He’d have never been able to handle her. No man could. Yet I found myself attempting it at every turn. Because with Marlow, I saw something I’d never had a vision of before. A future with more than meaningless . . . everything. Was I crazy?
“Screw this.”
Just as I put my hand on the lid of my laptop, a photograph of a cottage struck me. I clicked on the picture. It was quaint, appeared fairly secluded. I scrolled through the photo album of the rental listing. The sand was white. Water pretty. There was a hammock and a grill. And it was open starting Saturday.
“I have a doctor’s appointment today.”
“Wouldn’t you think that’s something I needed to know before now?” She shrugged. “What time?”
“Ten.”
“As in an hour from now?”
“Blake can come with me.”
My fingers flew across my phone as I typed out a text to Gerard to clear my schedule for the day.
“I’m coming too.”
“No,” she said quickly.
“Yes. Can you have ginger ale?”
“I thought you were the expert,” she said petulantly.
“Feel okay?”
“Super.”
“We’d better get a move on.”
She remained seated on the barstool. “Last night.” Her cheeks turned red. “I haven’t done that in a while.”
“Define a while.”
“I don’t know.” She looked down at her lap. “Did I ruin the wedding?”
“Honestly, I don’t have a clue. I couldn’t tell you if they even took their vows.”
She jerked her head up, incredulity in her dark pools.
“I was back at the funeral,” she finally admitted. No wonder she’d run.
I had no clue what it felt like to lose someone I loved. Well, apart from my grandparents. So, I couldn’t understand the grief she was experiencing, but her reaction spoke volumes. She’d let me hold her.
“I . . . haven’t been in a church since then, and as I sat there, all I could see was the flowers, his picture . . .”
Always back to Jack.
Damn it.
I was a shithead asshole fucker for even thinking that. The only times I had seen similar agonizing grief, had been at the courthouse as I’d won cases where a family’s loss had not been endorsed by a guilty verdict.
“You scared me.”
She nibbled on her lip, something she only did when she was unsure. “You seemed calm.”
“Well, I wasn’t.” I held up her purse. “I got the crackers. What else?”
“I—” She glanced at Blake, then slid from the stool. “I guess we’d better go.”
Nothing could have prepared me for the moment they rubbed that thing on her stomach and a thump thump thump came from the machine. I stared at the tiny blip.
“Is that a gummy bear?” I asked. It looked like Wicked had swallowed a whole gummy bear and now it lived in her tummy.
The nurse snickered. “That’s your baby.”
“Are you sure? Because Marlow pretty much inhales her food. It’s very possible she didn’t chew.”
She smacked me in the arm. “It’s not a gummy bear.”
I swallowed hard and tangled my fingers through Marlow’s. We’d made that tiny being. The clusterfuck we were had turned into something beautiful.
“Would you like a picture?”
“Please.” Shit had just gotten real.
As soon as we were out of the obstetrician’s office, I tossed Blake up in the air. When I caught him, I nuzzled my nose with his.
“We’re having a gummy bear.” I grinned at him.
Marlow laughed at me like I was a fool. “The other day you were pretty sure she’s a pumpkin.”
“She is, but she’s a gummy bear. Can you believe it?”
I wanted to grab every person who passed us on the sidewalk, tell them the good news. Had I ever been this happy?
I dropped Blake in the stroller, strapped him in, and grabbed Marlow by the waist. “You gave this to me.”
I smashed my mouth to hers. A surprised whimper escaped her. Blake clapped.
“Patrick,” she protested, though her face was flush.
“Nope. No talking.” I pressed my finger to her mouth. “Except to pick lunch.”
“Lettuce wraps,” she said without a second thought.
“You got it, Mama.” I kissed her again for good measure.
“Something just vibrated against my chest.” She scowled, but one corner of that mouth was turned up.
“If you’re into that stuff, I’m open to trying.”
She shoved at my chest as I pulled out my phone.
Soon everyone will know what you did . . .
“What is it?” Marlow tried to look at my screen, but I dropped the phone back into my pocket.
I smoothed my face back into a pleasant expression.
“Nothing.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Marlow
“We’re not going to another wedding are we?”
Patrick unloaded our bags from the rental car.
“Do you see any wedding shit?”
“Does it seem like I enjoy surprises?” I shot back. The driveway comprised of sand and oyster shells?
He unlocked the front door to the cottage. “Does it seem like you enjoy anything?”
“Weren’t you bragging not so long ago about something you claim I enjoyed
