Chapter 4 You’re Fucked #2
If I hadn’t already been awake, the twins running down the hallway would’ve done the trick. They sounded like a herd of elephants on a wild stampede. How two kids, who weighed less than nothing, made so much noise was beyond comprehension.
“The coast is clear. You can get up.”
My eyes flickered open to find Sloane on her knees in front of me.
Her position sent a flood of images through my head, none of which helped dissuade my cock from trying to bust through my zipper.
Thankfully, my lower half was covered by a small throw blanket, otherwise it would be twice as awkward than it already was.
“Morning, Sunshine.”
“Good morning.”
I stretched my arms above my head, arching my back to relieve the ache, which had settled deep in the muscle from being in the same position for too long. She moved back, giving me room to swing my legs around and sit up.
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I asked, “What time is it?”
“Six fifteen.”
“You should’ve woken me up.”
“I tried.” She shrugged.
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Rogan is going to make a mint off of you if you don’t watch your language.
” She winked and grinned, letting me know she was teasing.
She was also right. I had to curb my cursing when the kids were around.
“He’ll have enough to buy the puppy he wants in no time.
If Finn doesn’t buy him one for his birthday first.”
At the mention of their birthday, I remembered something Sloane said last night.
She kept a diary during her pregnancy, as well as a stack of baby books where she’d captured every milestone.
When I was ready, she said we could look through them together.
The thought was sobering. I should’ve been there for all their firsts.
We should’ve experienced them as a family.
Instead, I’d missed the first seven years of their lives, but I’d be damned if I missed any of the rest.
“When is their birthday?”
“October fourteenth.”
“Two weeks and three days. I’m not too late.”
“No you’re not.” She rubbed her forearm nervously, looking around to make sure we were alone.
“Duncan, we need to tell them soon. They’ve seen pictures of you in one of my old photo albums. I didn’t give them all the details, but I didn’t lie either.
They know we were in an accident and I couldn’t find you afterward.
They’re smart, it won’t take long before they put the pieces together. ”
“I’ll go home, take a shower, then come back around ten? Is that too soon?”
“Sounds perfect.”
Grabbing my boots from beside the coffee table, I slipped them on my feet. My fingers fumbled when I got to the laces. Leaving them felt ten shades of wrong. Sloane must’ve noticed my hesitation.
“It’s only a few hours, Duncan.”
In the span of twenty-four hours, my life had been flipped upside down.
My impending departure wasn’t even the issue.
Eight years worth of questions sat on the tip of my tongue.
Things like, how was her pregnancy? Was she sick?
What were the kids' favorite things to do?
My biggest concern seemed selfish in the grand scheme of things. Still, I had to voice it.
“What if they don’t like me?”
Every muscle in my body tensed, bracing for the worst. Sloane had the opposite reaction. She exhaled long and slow, her features softening into a smile. If possible, she was even more beautiful than I remembered.
“Reagan is shy, like painfully shy.” Warm fingers wrapped around my wrist, making the skin beneath her touch tingle.
“Give her time to warm up to you. She will, I promise. Her heart is bigger than the ocean is deep. Rogan may be the wild card. Mostly he’s your typical seven-year-old boy.
He plays hard, runs me ragged, but when it comes to his sister, all bets are off.
The best advice I can give you is to be yourself. ”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
I stood, trudging to the kitchen, maintaining a calm exterior while internally freaking-the-fuck out.
She made it sound so simple. Be myself? I was fucked.
Without her sunshine, I’d let the darkness win.
It shrouded me in shadows of nothingness while I spent years pounding my fists against a wall of grief that refused to budge.
Her loss changed me. Hardened me. How could I be myself when I didn’t know who I was anymore?
I’d have to figure it out. There wasn’t an alternative.
Grabbing my jacket off the back of the chair, I beelined for the front door. Halfway there I reversed course, moving across the living room, resting my forehead against hers.
“Thank you.” I breathed the words like a prayer.
“For what?”
“Surviving.”
Taking a chance, I brushed my lips lightly over hers.
Once. Twice. Not wanting to push my luck, I didn’t go for round three.
Her body swayed, a whimper of disappointment leaving her mouth when I pulled away.
It was good to know I wasn’t alone in my feelings, but neither one of us was ready for where another kiss would’ve led.
We had to rebuild the trust between us before we gave into our more carnal desires, no matter how much my dick protested otherwise. I had two hands for a reason.
“Soon, Sunshine.”
I turned, forcing one foot in front of the other until my ass hit the driver’s seat of my Jeep.
Good thing I could’ve driven home with my eyes closed, considering my mind was too busy making plans for the future to bother with things like yellow lines and traffic signals.
Taking a left onto my property, I had to stomp the brakes to avoid slamming into the navy-and-silver Ford Mustang blocking the driveway.
I rested my head against the steering wheel, knowing immediately who’d decided to pay me a visit.
Shayne Black.
“We can do this here or in your house, where we’ll both be a helluva lot more comfortable. Your choice, Palmer.”
My day of reckoning had arrived in the form of a blonde with the body of a pixie and the attitude of a heavy-weight fighter.
She had zero qualms about calling a spade a spade, and if I had to guess, she was about to shovel right through my shit.
Hell, I should’ve known it was coming. Better to get it over with quickly.
Rolling down the window an inch, I hollered, “House. But you damn sure better not have shown up empty-handed.”
She scoffed, pointing to herself. “What do I look like? An amateur? I got your favorite. Dunkin’ for Duncan.”
“Goddamn smart-ass. Move your ride out of the way.”
Five minutes later, sitting on opposite sides of my dining room table, the inquisition was set to begin. Or so I thought.
“I figured someone would call you daddy one day, just didn’t think it’d be an actual kid, let alone two of them.”
“Fucking hell, Shayne.” I choked on the coffee I’d just taken a sip of.
“What? Not your scene? That’s cool too.”
“We’re not going there.”
“Party pooper.” She stuck out her tongue.
“What are you doing here at the ass-crack of dawn, other than wanting to discuss my sexual preferences?”
“Obviously, Way filled me in on the drama.”
“Obviously.”
“I’m pissed off at you, Duncan Timothy Palmer.”
“Timothy’s not my middle name.”
“You’re not getting the point.”
“Do you even have a point?”
“You know”––her nostrils flared and her hazel eyes narrowed into slits––“this conversation would go much quicker if you’d zip it.”
I held up my hands in surrender, then motioned for her to carry on. She waited a moment before sitting back in the chair and folding her arms across her chest.
“Like I was saying, I’m pissed. Waverly and I knew something bad happened to you, but this?
My God, Duncan. We could’ve been there for you, just like you’ve been there for us.
We could’ve, I don’t know, pushed harder?
I feel like I’ve failed you somehow. Friends don’t let friends suffer in silence. ”
“Have you been watching the Hallmark Channel again?”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Thanks.” I grinned wide. “In all seriousness, I appreciate you coming here, but I’m good. Better than good, actually.”
“Oh, yeah? Then how do you plan to win Sloane back?”
“She told me to be myself.”
Shayne threw her head back and roared with laughter.
“You’re fucked.”
Sloane
During dinner, we started the process of laying old ghosts to rest. It was cathartic, yet draining, like emotional quicksand.
The more I struggled to comprehend the whys of what happened to us, the faster I sank into despair.
Until I realized it was useless. I’d never find logic in betrayal, only deep-seated pain.
Our conversation went through a horde of peaks and valleys, lasting well into the twilight hours.
At some point I excused myself to the bathroom, returning to find Duncan sprawled out on the couch, dead to the world.
I called his name and when he didn’t respond, I did what any normal woman in my position would do.
I turned into a level five creeper. For longer than I cared to admit, I stared, unable to look away from his sleeping form.
Even my cell phone pinging with a text didn’t interrupt my stalkerish ways.
When it rang though, it startled me to the point my behind fell out of the seat onto the floor.
Using as much dignity as I could muster with a sore bum, I hobbled to the kitchen, grabbed the phone off the counter, then retreated to my bedroom to return Waverly’s call.
“Hey,” she answered in a whisper.
“Are they okay?”
“They fell asleep in the car.”
“Oh,” I chuckled. “I’m not surprised. They were on the wilder side of feral all afternoon.”
She gasped, “Not my perfect angels.”
“Check their heads. You can’t miss the nubs where the horns are sprouting.”
We shared a quiet laugh.
“Finn will bring them in when we get there.”
“You should know, Duncan’s still here. He took a page out of their book it seems.”
“He’s asleep?”
My brother grumbled something indiscernible in the background.