Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
She also doesn’t want anyone to know we’re involved, and I get that, too. It’s an unspoken rule, and it will make things awkward. Since I’ve been with Jameson, there’s never been a romantic or sexual relationship between members. Or at least not out in the open anyway.
But Cage is my best friend, and I wanted him to stop talking about Kynan and her being together. It was getting on my nerves.
“What the fuck?” Cage growls in a low voice. “You and Hart? Together?”
“Well, we’re not together-together,” I hedge as I push my empty glass to the edge. The bartender starts my way, but I shake my head, indicating I don’t want another. “But things got carried away between us in Paphos, and she got pregnant.”
“What… break a condom?”
“Didn’t use a condom,” I mutter.
“You fucking idiot,” Cage says. I couldn’t agree with him more, but what’s done is done. Now we have to accept the consequences. “But what do you mean you’re not together-together? That means you’re together in some way?”
“We’re fucking.” My words are pointed and clear. They shouldn’t invite other questions, but I still add, “Exclusively.”
“Lucky son of a bitch.” Cage shakes his head disbelievingly. “She’s pretty much every man’s fantasy.”
“Yeah, well stop thinking about her that way.” I cringe over the possessive snarl in my tone, but it’s better than peeing in a circle around Rachel. That would just be embarrassing.
As if it just hits Cage with the implications of everything he’s learned, he leans toward me and asks in a low, hesitant voice. “Are y’all going to get married or something?”
That makes me smile, because it just never crosses Cage’s mind to ask if we’re keeping the baby. He’s my closest friend in the world, the bond forged tight by the many hair-raising adventures we’ve shared in the Navy and with the Jameson Group. He knows I would never consider not having this kid.
I also know I need to tell him the truth because I can’t lie to him. But I also trust him to keep this confidential.
Leaning against the back of the barstool, I scrub my hands over my face. When I look back at him, my words start on an exhale. “Rachel doesn’t want the baby, but I do. She’s agreed to carry it, and I’m going to raise it.”
Cage just stares at me, blinking a few times as he reconciles the fucked-up dichotomy of my relationship with Rachel. The total reversal of stereotyped roles where the mother doesn’t want the baby, but the father does.
“How?” Cage demands angrily. “How are you going to raise a kid on your own?”
“You know how,” I say softly, acknowledging the heaviness in my heart that I’ll be giving up a career I love in exchange. “The baby has to be my first priority. Over everything.”
“You’ll go home to Nebraska,” Cage says in realization, his voice as heavy sounding as my heart is feeling. “Estelle and Geo will go crazy over another grandkid.”
That’s the truth. Cage knows my parents well since he’s been a guest at the Wright household many times over the years. He has no family of his own, so my mom and dad have unofficially adopted him.
“You know I can’t have this career and handle a kid on my own. There’s just no way.”
“And no chance Hart will change her mind?” he asks. “The two of you could do it together.”
“I have no clue,” I tell my best friend, and then look over to the bartender. I lift my hand and point to the empty, indicating I’ve changed my mind about the beer. There’s still two more periods to the hockey game, and while I really don’t care to finish watching it, Cage will. I might as well get a good buzz going as that might make things at least feel a little better.
The bartender nabs my empty, dumps it in the sink, and pours me a fresh beer.
“You care for her,” Cage says out of the blue when I pick the beer up for a sip. His tone is a mix of accusation and wonder. “I watched you run out of the gym after her this morning. You were hugging her in the locker room—according to the reports I heard. More importantly, Hart was letting you comfort her, and we all know that’s very anti-Hart. You two care for each other.”
My head is shaking in denial before he can even finish. “It’s not like that.”
“Bullshit,” he declares.
“Okay, yes… I care about her,” I admit. “I mean, man… she’s giving up part of her life for me. I’m asking her to put her body through hell to give birth to a baby. For me. I’m asking her to do something monumental for me, so yes… I care about her. How could I not?”
“She cares about you, too,” Cage proclaims with a sharp nod of his head.