Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
MAREN
“ W hat the hell am I going to do?” I buried my face in my hands, and fought back tears. “How did I miss that the man I married and got knocked up by is my brother’s coach? Am I that naive? Maybe my parents are right, and I -”
“No. Stop it right now. My little jellyfish deserves all the happy vibes,” Candyce admonished. “And he looks really different from the whole hat and Fury colors sideline day job thing.”
I wiped the tears from under my eyes, and reached for the huge cup of lemonade in front of me on the coffee table. I couldn’t stay at Xavier’s last night after seeing Garrett.
When I found out I was pregnant, and that my last name was actually Forbes, Google gave me all the answers I needed. My baby daddy, and husband, was none other than my very overprotective big brother’s football coach. Which was how I ended up living in Xavier’s house until I found a place of my own.
My dream job? I might’ve lied about that one. I didn’t transfer locations. In fact, I was currently jobless, homeless, knocked up, and avoiding my husband. I hadn’t even told Xavier about my job, because then he’d make me move in permanently and all my hard earned independence would fly right out the window.
“So different you didn’t realize your own brother works for the same team???”
She snorted and picked up the wine glass next to my non-alcoholic lemonade. I watched her take a sip, envy in my eyes. “SO, we both suck. Plus I slept with the assistant coach. At least we’re in this together, and you can stay here as long as you need to.” She grinned then wrapped one arm around my shoulders. “And I will be the best aunt ever. Promise.”
I snorted. “The drunk aunt,” I teased.
Candyce shrugged. “Fun aunt?” she tried.
“Definitely.”
She glanced around, then zeroed in on me. “Are you hiding from his texts?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, feigning innocence and failing miserably. I threw my hands up , stood, swiped up my lemonade and began pacing. “What do I say? Oh, hey, nice to see you yesterday, but we’re still married, which means our child isn’t a bastard? And I’m jobless, homeless, and a horny, hormonal mess?” I shook my head. “I don’t want him to think I am trying to get money out of him or anything. Xavier thinks my job’s health insurance won’t cover me because my pregnancy is a pre-existing condition, so he’s paying for health insurance. You know, the job I left because I’m homeless, knocked up-”
“Alright, alright. I get it. But seriously, I thought the whole plan was to tell him.”
I paced, not stopping and sucked down the rest of the lemonade. I’d pee in like ten minutes, but lemonade, fried rice, and tiramisu was all this baby wanted. Which meant, that was all I wanted, too. “It was. Is. But which catastrophic item do I blurt out first? Legally bound to one another, baby, or jobless slash homeless?”
This was a disaster, and proving everything my parents and Xavier ever said about me. The first time my dad and Xavier saw a boy hug me after one of Xavier’s football games in high school, I thought my brother was going to kill the guy. And my dad made it clear that I wasn’t hugging anyone ever again because I would be sitting with him from now on, and not with my friends. It was Xavier’s senior year and I was a freshman. It was the last year I ever went to a football game. Xavier got a scholarship, and even though he lived on campus with his friends from the team, he came home every weekend and made sure my social life was nonexistent. My parents were just as bad, but as long as my grades were good, and they were more than good, they gave me a little freedom. That was until Xav came home, laundry and sometimes a friend in tow.
The poor guys never even glanced my way, let alone any boys I went to school with. College was a little better, but I kept my head down and graduated a year early with a double major. I loaded up my schedule in the summer, and dreamed about starting a life where I was in control.
Look where that got me, I thought sulkily as I sucked up air because I drank all the lemonade. Knocked up and married to a man I barely knew.
“Maybe dare him to-”
“Oh, no,” I held up a hand. “That’s what got me into this situation in the first place.” I pointed at my belly. “And all I need is Garrett thinking I tricked him into marrying me and getting knocked up, because who shows up without a jo-”
Candyce popped up, and engulfed me in a hug as I hiccuped and tried not to burst into tears. “Deep breaths, Mare, that’s it.”
I swallowed. “I can’t look at my phone,” I said, my voice breaking as I tried to inhale, then burst into tears. “What if- what if he hh-hhates me?”
“Oh, Maren. I saw the way he looked at you that night. He was watching you long before I reeled him in for you.”
My head shot up, tears still streaming down my face. “You…what?”
Candyce, my crazy best friend flipped her blonde hair over one shoulder and grinned. “Yep. He was eye fucking you from across the dance floor and I nudged him in your direction. Not that it took much,” she muttered. “So, this is all my fault. You’re off the hook.”
I frowned and started crying again. “That’s not how it works!”
“Fine.” She released me, hands on her hips. “Where’s your phone? And no excuses. I’ll look and decide how you’re going to proceed since I got you into this mess.”
I plopped back on the couch. Candyce tossed me a box of tissues and glared until I rolled my eyes as I blew my nose as obnoxiously as I could. I pointed meekly to my purse on the floor by her front door. She marched over, dug until she found it and unlocked my password. “How did you-”
“Oh, please. You are obsessed with the Rock. And we’ve watched the Jumanji remake enough that I know Bravestone is your password. Plus, I looked over your shoulder a few times.” She stared down at her phone, and I nearly vomited, not from morning sickness, which had thankfully passed, but from the way my nerves were fraying with every passing second.
“Well?”
She held up a finger, and after a few seconds grinned wickedly and shoved the screen in my face. “Seems ‘Husband’ can’t stop thinking about how much he loves seeing his baby in your belly and can’t wait to, and I quote, ‘fuck my wife raw and come inside you until you can’t take anymore.’ Dude has a breeding kink. Perfect storm, I’d say. To quote Maui, you’re welcome,” she sang.
I snatched the phone from her and scrolled.
HUSBAND: Fuck, you’re beautiful.
HUSBAND: We are going to talk, Wife.
HUSBAND: I can’t stop thinking about how fucking gorgeous you are with my baby in your belly.
HUSBAND: I am so fucking hard right now. I can’t wait to fuck my wife raw and cum in you until you can’t take one anymore.
HUSBAND: No hiding. Call me. Meet me for lunch. Or I’ll be at Xavier’s to pick you up.
Shit. He texted that last message a few minutes ago. The rest were from last night, after I crawled into the bed in Candyce’s spare room, and cried myself to sleep.The last thing I needed was him showing up at my brother’s place and not finding me there.
MY WIFE: I’m not there. I”ll meet you. Just tell me where. And don’t say anything yet.
His reply was instant, and my cheeks flushed thinking about his strong fingers that had brought me so much pleasure tapping out a response.
HUSBAND: What does my wife want?
I bit the inside of my cheek.
MY WIFE: Know any places with fried rice near an Italian bakery?
HUSBAND: Only if I pick you up. Address.
“Well? The suspense is killing me, Maren. Spill.”
I sank into the couch cushions and put my hand on my belly, eyes fixed on the screen. “He wants to pick me up for lunch.”
“Duh. Tell him my address and get your ass ready.”
My lower lip trembled. “I don’t know-”
She knelt down in front of me. “Hey. You are amazing, Maren. You busted your ass, graduated early, with honors, and you’ve handled this whole fucked up situation better than anyone else. This is a piece of cake. You’ve seen each other naked, you know he has a good job, and you’ve read every damn article about the guy online. You know he’s not an asshole. Let him pick you up, talk and show him the Maren I know and love.”
“I love you, you know that?”
“Oh, I know. Now, address and get ready. Then, when you get back, details.”
MY WIFE: Okay.
Heart pounding in my chest, I sat silently in the passenger seat, trying to hold in every thought racing through my overwhelmed and overstimulated, hormonally horny brain. Beside me, Garrett adjusted the visor, blocking the sun that shone in his eyes. He was even better looking today than he had been yesterday. And that had been a shock unto itself, because I remembered every damn detail, except when I left my body from coming so hard, of our night in his hotel room.
In person, standing on that damn deck as Xavier introduced us, he devastated me. Maybe it was the hormones. Yep, that was the only plausible answer. Chaotic, evil, pregnancy hormones.
When I couldn’t take it anymore, I blurted out, “Are you mad at me?”
Garrett let out a sigh. “I can’t say I’m completely happy that you kept this from me, considering we were still texting up until recently, Maren.”
I flinched at the ‘Maren” because he never called me that before yesterday. My mouth opened, but he kept going before I said anything.
“But I also can see it from your side. It’s not text appropriate to tell someone you're having their baby after only knowing each other for one night. Barely one night,” he amended. “Even if we texted for a few months after. It doesn’t change the facts, either way. So, I can either be pissed as fuck, or move on and take care of the situation.”
Oof. “Take care of the situation?” I asked.
“Maren, you’re having my baby. I’m not going to be some dead beat that doesn’t provide for you both. And you’re not staying with Xavier. You’re going to stay with me.”
My head jerked in his direction. “Excuse me?”
Garrett pulled into a spot, and put the SUV in park, shifted so he was angled toward me. “You’re carrying my baby. And like it or not, you're my wife.” He smirked. “Even if it’s not legal.” His hand came up, and brushed a lock of hair from my face, and tucked it behind my ear. “You can’t tell me you want to stay with Xavier. Or your friend. This way, you don’t have to do this alone, and I can make sure you're both taken care of.”
“About that-” God, I needed to tell him it wasn’t in name only. And definitely hadn't stayed in Vegas, but he was already getting out of the SUV and coming around to the passenger side. The door opened, and Garrett unbuckled my seatbelt and helped me out. I fell into his body, overwhelmed by the scent of him, just like that night, and the nearness of him.
Not to mention the damn hormones rearing their horny heads. A finger under my chin, forcing me to look up into his eyes, and I swooned, legs weak and unable to speak. “Food, then talk. Or, at least order, apps, and talk.” I nodded, unable to form a sentence. He kissed the tip of my nose, took my hand in his and led me inside a nondescript building. The brightly lit space was filled with red and gold accents, modern yet without any of the uppity feel of downtown. The small town-feel still carried in, if only because a few of the diners and people who worked there waved at Garrett as we were seated.
After the server left us with menus and promises of lemonade for me, and unsweetened tea for Garrett, I inhaled deeply then shut my mouth again as he shot me a look. “Order, then talk, Wife.”
“You shouldn’t call me that,” I murmured, wanting to deny how much I loved it.
“If it makes your cheeks flush like that every time I say it, there’s no fucking way I’m going to stop, sweet girl.”
I squirmed, clenching my thighs together. A bright smile pasted on my lips, I said, “Fine. Order, then talk.”
He smirked, as if to say, I won.
This round, I shot back silently.
Orders taken, drinks served, and a small platter of Asian fusion appetizers later, I was moaning with every bite. Garrett watched me, eyes darkening and amusement on his face. “What?” I asked, wiping at the side of my mouth where a spicy sauce had decided to land and make me look fantastic.
One side of his mouth twitched. “I love watching you eat.”
“I’m eating for two,” I grumbled.
He leaned forward, elbow on the table. “The sounds you make remind me of how you sound when you come on my-”
I let out a squeal. “Public! We’re in public, Garrett.”
“Not Garrett, baby. Husband.”
His words, so like the ones he uttered that night, shot straight to my lady parts, low and with such force, if he touched me I’d moan. Among other things I shouldn’t do in public. “Fine. Husband.”
“Good girl.”
Wait, why did that make me even hornier? I rubbed my thighs together, and Garrett’s lips twitched again. Caught.
For the next twenty minutes we talked about nothing in particular, but Garrett asked me about growing up with Xavier. I filled him in on all the ways my big brother kept the boys away. Until that night in Vegas.
“When I decided to go to college on the other side of the country, I thought my parents were going to have heart attacks, and maybe Xavier would retire super early. But, then he met Candyce, who convinced him because her brother was an Olympic swimmer, she was trustworthy.” That one earned me a snort from Garrett. “Hey!” The food arrived, and again, I moaned, because all this kiddo wanted was fried rice, lemonade, and tiramisu.
“Eat, then we’ll talk about how Candyce is not only not a problem, but one of my favorite people.”
I already had a huge spoonful on its way to my mouth, but I paused, eyebrows raised in surprise. “She is?”
“Eat,” he ordered again. Dutifully, and because I wanted to, I shoved the fried rice in my mouth, and he continued. “She noticed me watching you that night. And I was doing my best up until then to stay away.”
My eyes rolled. “She’s trying to take credit for,” I waved between us and my belly, “this. Which is-”
“Partially true,” I interrupted.
“It is?” I asked before eating more. Cause, you know, eating for two. I could just picture my best friend’s grin as she whispered ‘I told you so’ from her place as the naughty devil on my shoulder.
He nodded, watching every move I made as I ate, which should bother me, but it only made the pressure between my legs throb further. “I convinced myself I was going to watch you, and nothing more. Until she swept in. I took it as a sign.”
“And now you're some girl’s baby daddy,” I muttered, and decided eating daintily was out the window. Eat your feelings, Mare. He’s about to drop the bomb and you’re out the door.
“My wife’s baby daddy,” he smirked. “Even if it’s pretend right now.”
“About that.” I winced.
“About what? Because if it were up to me, I’d make it official right now.”
“You would? But, why? We barely know each other, and my brother is most likely going to try to kill you at some point!”
He waved a dismissive hand. “He won’t kill his coach. Xav’s a good kid. And we know each other better than you think. I know your favorite color, dessert, drink, song, book…movie.”
“No you don’t.”
“Ask me.”
“All of it,” I challenged.
“Cobalt blue. Tiramisu and lemonade,” he smirked as I glared at him. “Mirrorball, Taylor Swift.”
Well shit. “Did I tell you that?”
He smirked. “You mentioned it that first night in the bathtub and begged me to play it while I washed your hair. Then you sent me a voice message last month with it playing in the background.”
My eyes widened. “You remember that?” He nodded. My tone softened. “Oh.”
“The Night Circus.”
I crossed my arms across my chest. “I never told you that.”
His eyes danced as he pulled out his phone, and held it up. “Number one.” A picture of me, and sitting in my lap, my well-worn copy of The Night Circus. “Two.” Another of me, in bed, the book on my chest. “And three.” On my deck, the sunrise from three weeks ago, right before I realized I needed to find him and tell him about the baby.
How did he know all this when I knew none of his favorites? God, I’m awful. My eyes welled up with tears. Garrett didn’t notice, thank God, because he was closing out his gallery on his phone and setting his phone on the table. I quickly wiped my eyes and took a long drink of my lemonade.
“Movie? Xanadu, because you watched it with your mom when you were sick as a little girl. And Jumaji with the Rock. Phone password.”
My jaw dropped. “I told you that?”
He nodded. “Both. I know you, wife. And that’s more than most people can say, because I listened even when you weren’t saying a word. But when you did, I made sure I heard you, so that no matter what you said or didn’t, you would know.”
“Know what,” I asked, breathless.
“That you belong with me.”