The way we’d argue and then simmer nearly gave me whiplash. But it was us. I liked that we could move on.
“Won’t that cramp your flashy lifestyle?”
“You think I’m being foolish.”
She sighed. “It’s one of the nicest things I’ve ever heard of.” My brows shot up. “You know it is.” She shoved at my chest.
I settled her back against my front again and resumed rubbing her belly.
“What if I didn’t take this case and the guy really is innocent?”
“I don’t see how that’s your problem.”
“You said I should do it.”
“I think you should. But because you want to do it. Not me. Not him. Not his father.”
“I thought I’d lost all hope in the innocence of the accused. I’m praying that this kid proves me wrong.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
I slumped against the window. “I don’t know.”
“What if you don’t win?”
“What if he’s really guilty, and I do?”
“If you’ve already convicted him, why bother?”
“Something about his dad gets to me. That unconditional faith.” I pressed my nose to her hair. “I want to be that father.”
“You already are.”
“Are you going to the garage tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Can you keep Blake on Tuesday?”
“He’s going with me every day.”
“Patrick.”
“He’s no trouble. I even saw Gerard making goofy faces at him. That man is a stone, so the little dude is good for all of us.” Blake had an effect on everyone I couldn’t explain, especially me. It was a magnetism. He was fun. I hadn’t realized I could smile as much as I did when I was around him.
“You have clients.”
Blake was content to play with his toys and sleep. Marlow had done an amazing job helping him to be capable of entertaining himself. He truly was no trouble. And so what if I didn’t get as much work done as I used to? That wasn’t a bad thing.
“If they don’t like my partner, they can go somewhere else.” And I meant it.
“Sometimes you’re not a shithead asshole fucker.”
I kissed the side of her head. “Not really sure what to do with that, are you, Wicked?”
“Nope.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Marlow
“This is for you.”
Patrick slid an envelope across the island. His hair was still damp from our shower, but I’d left him upstairs naked. In a suit, he was equally lethal.
“What is it?” I opened the flap.
“Coffee?” He held up the pot and I shook my head. “How’s the nausea?”
“The smell of that isn’t helping.” He dumped the whole thing out and rinsed it down the sink. “Why’d you do that?”
“I can get some at the office. I don’t want you to be sick.”
“I can handle it.” I pulled a stack of papers out of the envelope.
He rounded the counter and turned me on the barstool. He pushed my thighs apart and stepped between them. “I know you can.” His lips found mine. “Do you have time for lunch today?”
“Are you buying?”
“I’m taking requests too.”
“I’ll text you.”
“Sext me? Can’t wait.”
I punched him in the arm. He kissed me to the point I forgot what we were talking about.
“Damn you, Wicked. We need to get to the office.”
“What did I do?”
“You know you’re distracting.”
“I’m just sitting here. I was eating toast until somebody interrupted.”
He popped a bite into my mouth and kissed my forehead. “See you later.”
I finger-waved and blew Blake a kiss as they disappeared out of the kitchen.
Don’t get used to this. Don’t get used to this.
He played to win, I’d give Patrick that. The thought of my empty house wasn’t so appealing when this one was full of life and energy.
Blake liked it here too. This morning, I’d showed him the window in the study. He’d watched the cars and pedestrians go by with his tiny hands pressed to the glass.
We were lucky Patrick had bulldozed into our lives, offered us his home very selflessly, not that I would tell Patrick that. His ego was large enough. Cue the eye roll. Didn’t have a problem with that this morning while you got fucked in the shower.
Guilt swamped me. I couldn’t think about building a life with someone else. Not when my husband would never have the chance.
Patrick created bigger gaps between the times when Jack was on my mind. I had to stop that before I started going an entire day without thinking of him. I’d made vows to love and honor him for the rest of my life. Already, I’d failed. I couldn’t even tell him I was sorry.
I unfolded the papers and smoothed them on the counter before picking them up.
What the ever-loving fuck?
I was an idiot. What did I think this relationship was leading to? Patrick had made me believe we were in this together, whatever the hell that meant. He was the one person who took up for me no matter what.
The beach. The way he was with Blake. The unwavering support. The load of crap about figuring things out together.
Lies.
I scanned the document. Every single thing we’d hashed out over the trip in regards to our baby was spelled out. In a fucking contract.
We hadn’t even been home a day and he’d done this.
“Screw you and your goddamn contract.” I shoved it, papers scattering to the floor.
He wanted to play, we’d play.
“Tell him I had to go run an errand for you. Do not let him leave with Blake.”
“What’s with all the smoke and mirrors?”
“He’s coming by for lunch.”
“Why do I have to get Blake?” Holt dug into the pockets of his coveralls.
“I’m begging you. Please.” I couldn’t face Patrick. Not yet. And I needed my son back.
“I’ll text you when he’s gone.” He relented easier than I thought he would.
I sagged in relief. “Thank you.”
“Am I going to regret this?”
“Does your landlord know a good lawyer?”
He flinched. “Daniel? Probably. He’s a pretty powerful guy.”
“Can you ask him?”
“What about your brother?”
“I need a shark.”
He looked at me suspiciously. “Why do you need a lawyer?”
“It’s not important. Can you ask him?” I was just
