Chapter Twenty-one
Regan
Sunlight coming through the window wakes me. I must have forgotten to draw the curtains. Rolling away from the light, hoping to get a few more minutes of sleep, I bump into something. I put my arms out to pet Joey, only, it’s not him. My eyes fly open to find I’m caressing Lucas’s arm.
“What the…?” I quickly take stock. He’s fully clothed, but I’m totally naked. Under the covers, but naked. “Why are you still here?”
Lucas wakes, looks around to get his bearings, then rolls to his side. “Sorry. Guess I fell asleep right after you did.”
“Well, get up and go.” I pull the blanket tightly around me. “And use the back door so nobody sees you.” I shake my head. “We have to be more careful.”
“Relax,” he says. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. We’ve been doing this all of one day and we already violated our own agreement. No overnight guests.” I reach over and try to push him off the bed. It doesn’t do any good. He doesn’t budge. Of course he doesn’t—he’s two hundred pounds of pure muscle.
“Technically the agreement isn’t in effect until the baby comes.” He works his chin with a few fingers. “And I didn’t think that rule applied to us .”
“Of course it applies to us. It especially applies to us. You wouldn’t want the baby getting the wrong idea, would you?”
“You think it happened?” he asks, looking at the covers over my stomach.
I shrug. “Statistically, it probably didn’t.”
He gets a cocky look on his face and rises on an elbow. “Maybe we should double down and go for it again.”
“Double down?” I sit up, covers still around me, take my robe from the bedpost, and put it on without revealing much more than my bare shoulders before I stand with my back to him. “We shouldn’t do it more than once a day. Like I said, use the back door.”
Leaving my room before he can say anything else, I walk down the hallway, passing my not-so-happy cat, and enter the bathroom.
Slowly opening my robe, I stare at my belly in the mirror. I know the odds of it happening on the first try are slim. But it could happen. Could there be a baby in there? Could last night have been the night that changed my life forever? Is there one tiny bundle of cells, smaller than the head of a pin, that could end up being my son or daughter?
During my shower, I promise myself I won’t become one of those women obsessed with getting pregnant. One who takes a pregnancy test twice a day even a week before a missed period. But no matter how hard I try to deny it, I know I will be. The ten pregnancy tests I bought alongside the ovulation kits tell the tale. I rationalized it was just good sense to go ahead and get them as long as I was in the city. It’s not like I can pop over to Truman’s and buy one off the shelf.
Combing through my wet hair, I hear a noise. More curious than suspicious, I hang up my towel and pull my robe back on.
“What was that?” I ask Joey, when I almost trip over him because he’s stretched outside the bathroom door like a draft stopper. “And what’s with you this morning?”
I hear the noise again and roll my eyes as I stomp out to the kitchen. Hands on my hips, I ask, “Why are you still—”
Then the smells hit me. Bacon. Pancakes. Coffee. I quickly glance at the platters on the table covered with enough food for an army. I look up at Lucas.
“Did I forget to mention I’m a killer cook?” he says, grinning from ear to ear.
“Lucas…”
“I get it. I’m not supposed to be here. We’re violating the agreement. Yada yada yada. But, hey, I figured if you did get knocked up last night, might as well start off by giving our kid some good nutrition.” He takes a carton of orange juice out of the refrigerator and brings it to the table. “Sorry, you’re out of syrup. But you have whipped cream and strawberries.”
He studies the can of whipped cream like he has other ideas on what to do with it.
I swipe it from him and he laughs.
“Fine. You can stay for breakfast. But then—”
“I know, I know. Go out the back door.”
He scoops a healthy portion of eggs onto my plate, then his. I take two slices of bacon off the pile and a couple of pancakes as Lucas pours us each a glass of juice.
“What’s Ryder up to these days?” he asks. “Last I heard he and Amy were living in Colorado Springs.”
I tilt my head. “You don’t keep in touch? But you were such good friends.”
“It’s been a few years since we talked. And I’m not on Facebook, so I never get updates.”
I put my fork down. “You’re not on Facebook? Everyone is on Facebook.”
“Obviously not everyone, Regan.” He looks at the ceiling in thought. “I don’t think my brothers are either.”
“You guys are clearly freaks of nature.” I try not to laugh as I point my fork in the direction of his lap. “And I don’t mean because of that thing in your pants.”
“Hey now, that thing is going to give you a kid. Don’t knock it.”
Out of curiosity, I ask, “Do your brothers, you know…” My gaze drops to his crotch.
“Have big cocks?”
I feel my cheeks heat up, and I shrug. “There were never any rumors or nicknames about them like there were you.”
“You think Blake, Dallas, and I sit around and talk about our dicks?”
“I think you’ve probably compared notes.” I squirt whipped cream onto my pancakes. “Tell me I’m wrong. Women aren’t the only ones who talk about that stuff.”
“You’re not wrong. And no, they weren’t blessed with the extra inches I have.”
“Blessed or cursed?” I ask with a raised brow.
“Ouch.” He grabs his chest. “Regan, you’re killing me here.”
I take a bite of pancakes and giggle. “Sorry. I’m not one to talk. I know what it’s like to carry extra inches. Everywhere .”
“I happen to like all of your inches.”
“Do you really?” I study his face. “Some guys say that, but honestly, it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that guys actually like this.” I squeeze a handful of side belly.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Regan. For one, you rock that body. And some of us care more about what’s up here.” He points to my head. “And what’s in there.” He points to my heart.
I’m trying to figure out why he cares about any of that—this is just a mission after all—when Joey meows loudly. In my surprise at finding Lucas cooking breakfast, I plain forgot to put his food out.
I reach down and pull him onto my lap. “Sorry, buddy.” I kiss his head. “I’ll feed you in a minute.”
“I already fed him,” Lucas says.
My head snaps up in surprise. “You did?”
“I’m trying to make friends. It clearly didn’t work.” He nods to Joey’s food bowl full of untouched food. “He wouldn’t eat it.”
I cock my head and study Joey before putting him on the floor, getting up from the table, and going to his bowl. I pick it up off the floor then put it back down. I can’t help laughing when he immediately digs in. “He really does hate you. I just don’t get it.”
“Me neither. Pets always love me. My niece’s cat doesn’t hiss at me like Joey does. He scurries over and purrs against me. And Dallas’s dog thinks I’m pretty fucking cool too.” He eyes Joey, now devouring his food. “There must be something wrong with him.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Joey. The problem is with you.”
“He’s jealous.”
“Jealous? Of a human?”
“Tell me, Ray, how many men have you had up here in your apartment?”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you asking about my sexual history? Don’t you already know enough about that?”
“I just think Joey believes he’s your guy.”
I regard Joey as he eats. Does he?
“In order to see if my theory holds weight,” he says, “it’s important to know if other men come up here. And how he reacts to them.”
I guess I’ve never really thought about it before. But with Joey only being a few years old, there haven’t been many. Oh my god, have there been any? “I, uh, respectfully decline to answer that question on account of how pathetic it would make me look.”
He laughs out loud, and I swear he looks more than a little happy. I guess he likes to be right. This time… he is.
“You never answered my question about Ryder.”
“They’re still living in Colorado,” I say, scooping the leftovers into containers. “We’ve never been super close. I saw him and Amy in Sarasota at Christmas. Amy and I have even less in common than Ryder and I do. We’ve never really acted like sisters-in-law or even gotten along that well. I don’t like the way she tries to control him. And it’s always been a herculean task to get her to Sarasota every other year for the holidays. It was almost painful, the five of us sitting around with nothing to talk about. I guess because of our age difference, Ryder and I never really connected. And my parents, we just have different values. They’ll probably disown me after this.”
“When are you going to tell them?”
“I’m not.”
His eyes widen. “You aren’t going to tell your parents you’re having a kid? Won’t they be a bit surprised when you show up with one on your next visit?”
“Yes, they will. I’ve thought about it, and that’s the plan—to just show up. At that point, there’s nothing they can do or say. They either accept it or they don’t. And if they don’t, they’ll never see me again.”
“And Ryder? Will you tell him?” His brows shoot up. “You think he’s going to want to kick my ass?”
“I’m thirty-five, Lucas. There will be no ass kicking of any kind.”
He laughs. “Every time you mention your age, I have a hard time wrapping my head around it. I still see you as that eighteen-year-old fantasy girl.”
I cover my eyes. “I’m sleeping with my little brother’s best friend.”
“Former best friend.” He nudges me. “And there’s nothing little about me.”
“Stop,” I say. I put the leftovers in the refrigerator then lean against the counter. “I’ll probably tell him, but not before we tell everyone else.” I look at the time. “I’ve got to finish getting ready and open the shop. Thanks for breakfast.”
“My pleasure.” He goes for the door, then turns. “What time tonight?”
“Mmm?”
“We should do it again tonight, right? And for the next three or four days probably. To give you the best chance.”
“I suppose we should.”
“You don’t have to look so sad about it.” Pouting, he strides back over, tugs me toward him and says, “If you’d just let me go for objective number one, it would be a whole lot better.” His eyes capture mine. “Just tell me how you want me to do it. Fingers? Cock? Tongue? Hell, we can even incorporate a toy if you think it’ll make it happen. I’m up for anything.” He leans in. “I’ve heard a finger up the butt can really help.”
My jaw drops. He did not just say that. But secretly, my insides are swimming in warm gooey juices.
“I’m just sayin’. Whatever it takes, Ray.”
With that, he spins on his heel and leaves. I race to the bedroom window to make sure he goes out the back as promised. He does. He starts walking down the alley, lights a cigarette, then turns to look at my back door, staring at it intently. Then his head tilts and he catches me in the window. With a smirk and a wink, he salutes me.
I shrink away from the window, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. Then I go get ready. Taking a few minutes for one minor detour.