I decided I fascinated him, so I made an exaggerated funny face. “You are the poopiest pooper who ever pooped! Yes, you are!”
Someone sighed and I glanced up to see Clint standing in the room. I was so wrapped up in diaper-duty, I hadn’t even heard the door. The look on his face said it all: he didn’t like seeing me with someone else’s baby, but at the same time he loved watching me with a baby.
A flood of memories hit me at seeing him like that.
Before I had graduated college, Clint and I were serious, and had discussions about the future. He wanted kids, the more the better, as far as he was concerned. Being twenty-one, I was scared to death at the idea of a gaggle of kiddos.
When he encouraged me to move to New York City and go after my dreams, it surprised the hell out of me. And if I’d been honest with myself at the time, another reason I’d jumped at the chance was so I wouldn’t have to have a bunch of kids well before I was ready.
It was a wimp move, and it was sheer stupidity on my part, but nobody said book-smarts equaled life-smarts.
And at the end of the day it wasn’t quite that simple.
He had come to visit me after I settled into life in the city that never sleeps. I loved it there, and the more I met the people, the more I knew Clint would fit right in. He’d always had a no-nonsense attitude I found incredibly refreshing, so when I realized many New Yorkers had similar mindsets, I had tried convincing him to move up, but he wouldn’t hear of it.
He wouldn’t leave his mother and sisters. He had roots he couldn’t sever, where I was excited to get away from Mom and Wynnie and not having them in my business every day. He also had a protective streak more than a mile wide. From age twelve he’d been the man of the house, and arguably before that, seeing as his father beat his mother.
“Raegan, can I talk to you on the porch?”
Jared squealed and I turned to look at Mom. It appeared she was tickling him, but her eyes were on Clint. “Why would you drag her out into the heat?”
That was a fine question, and when I turned to Clint a muscle was ticking in his cheek. “Won’t be that long, Penny. She’ll survive.”
Tanya saw my divided focus between Clint and the half-finished job with Marcus’s diaper. “I’ll take care of the rest, Raegan. Don’t worry about it.”
I pushed up from the floor and followed Clint outside.
As soon as the door latched, he asked, “What are you still doin’ here?”
My head reared back a touch and I folded my arms over my chest. “Excuse me? It’s my mother’s house.”
“Yeah, but you should’ve gone back to New York by now.”
My expression turned wry. “Really? There a timeline for when a grieving sister has to go back home? There a timeline for when I have to pick up my life again?”
His facial expression shifted to remorse, but I was on a roll.
I threw an arm out. “Hell, Clint, we just celebrated her yesterday! I’m not just gonna leave Mom high and dry after that horrendous day.”
He tore a hand through his hair while his eyes closed tight. After he blew out a sigh, he looked at me. “I’m sorry, Rae. I didn’t... Fuck. I thought you’d be gone by now is all.”
I stared at him for a while before the full meaning of his words hit me and I scoffed. “So, translated, you were avoiding me until you thought I’d be gone.”
He inhaled loudly and looked anywhere but at me until after he exhaled. “It’s... It’s not like that.”
My eyes widened. “Isn’t it though?” I shook my head. “Whatever. I’ll be sure to shoot you a text or something when I’ve left town. Then you can visit Mom to your heart’s content.”
“Raegan, do not put words in my mouth.”
I shook my head. “Not putting words in your mouth, Clint. You’re absent for two weeks, and now you’re surprised to see me. Further, you opened this shitshow telling me where I should’ve been. I get it. You don’t want to see me; I’ll do my level best to accommodate you that way. Don’t let this go to your head, Clint Ramsey, but seeing you isn’t the least bit easy for me either.”
He grabbed my bicep. “Dammit, Raegan! I didn’t say any of that.”
I wrenched my arm free. “You didn’t have to.”
Clint
I POURED THREE FINGERS of Bushmills into a glass and went out to the front porch. A deluge of rain blanketed the neighborhood and I was grateful for it. I only sat out here when it rained because otherwise my nosy neighbors would try to chat with me.
I damn sure wasn’t in the mood for chatting today. The rhythm of the rain lacked the power to drive out the thoughts in my head tonight.
You didn’t have to.
Raegan’s voice played in a perpetual loop in my head. Her pain-laced tone cut deep. I never wanted to hurt her. Never.
It hadn’t occurred to me that she might have pain at seeing me too. Then again, she married someone up there. I hadn’t found someone I would marry in the time since I left Raegan in New York.
I didn’t blame her of course. A beautiful woman like her would attract attention, but I always thought she’d know a slimeball when one came around. No two ways about it, her ex-husband was total slime.
I’d done my homework. Trey Garrity was born-and-bred upper East-side New York. He’d been fired from a position with another agency before meeting Raegan. While the articles about the change
