Chapter 24
Evie
We lay tangled up in my bed, burrowed under a pile of blankets, scrolling through the photos of Ruby, Paul, and Brooks in my camera roll.
“He’s beautiful,” I whispered. “Eight pounds. He looks so tiny. I barely remember Vincent being so small.”
He chuckled. “He’s a meatball now. I swear he’s bigger every day.”
“The kid never stops eating.”
Still naked, still recovering from what we’d just experienced, I couldn’t muster the energy to freak out or get anxious. Jasper made me feel safe, so my usual defense mechanisms had gone into hiding.
“Not that I’m complaining,” he murmured into my neck. “But what happened at the hospital? You came back… different.”
Sighing, I surveyed the ceiling, taking a moment to collect my thoughts. I was not at my most articulate after our romp.
“I had this moment,” I hedged, struggling to put into words the sensation, “where I realized just how much time I’d spent feeling guilty and punishing myself. Thinking I was a terrible mom and an irresponsible parent.”
“Evie—”
I held up a hand. “Wait. And after today, after being there with Ruby like she was with me, it hit me that childbirth is unpredictable and wild. All the preparation and planning in the world would not have allowed me to control any of it. And Vincent is here now. And I’m doing it. Being a mom.”
He kissed my shoulder tenderly. “You’re not just doing it. You’re crushing it.”
My chest pinched. “Thank you. And you could have made coparenting difficult. You could have made it painful. But you’ve been patient and kind and you keep showing up.”
“It’s nothing.”
“No it’s not nothing. Quite the opposite.” I sat up, heat building behind my eyes. “I treated you terribly. But suddenly, it’s like the postpartum hormonal haze has lifted and I can see so clearly how terrible I’ve been. I can think again.”
He searched my face, his own expression full of questions.
“It was so shocking,” I said. “And the pressure of taking care of a newborn was intense. I was angry at you. Not for any specific reason, but because you were a man.”
Head cocked, he frowned. “Sorry?”
“I’ve been let down many times. And while I’ve survived time and again, my protective instincts kicked in and I built walls. I assumed you’d let Vincent down. But now that I know you, understand the man you are, I realize that will never happen.”
For the space of a couple of heartbeats, he was silent, like he was letting my words sink in.
When he spoke, his voice was full of emotion. “I’m sorry you’ve been hurt and let down so many times in your life,” he said. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m always willing to listen.”
My heart swelled. This man always knew exactly the right thing to say.
“And I’m here. In any capacity you want me.”
The words were an opening, a soft launch of a complex conversation I wasn’t remotely ready for. So I pivoted to more apologies.
“I was so shitty to you for so long. And you’re not just one of the good ones.” I licked my lips and dug deep for the courage to say this next part. “I think you might be the best one.”
The way the slow smile lit up his face made my stomach flip. He was beautiful.
With a grunt, he wrapped me in a bear hug. He covered my neck and shoulders with kisses, his stubble tickling my sensitive flesh and pulling ridiculous giggles from me.
It was strange, how light I felt. Usually after sex, I was hit with a heavy dose of anxiety and embarrassment. Followed by the desire to cover up and get out. Never had I craved giggles and cuddles and kisses.
Yet here I was. Was this what I’d been missing all along?
My cheeks hurt from smiling, and Jasper’s laugh was caught in his throat, a low, husky sound I’d never tire of.
As the afternoon light filtered through the curtains in lazy stipes, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the strong warmth of his body and the feel of his lips against my skin.
For a brief moment, life was simple. Nothing but skin and warmth and affection. No ghosts. No guilt. Just Jasper.
The moment was spoiled, though, when my brain caught up.
We hadn’t used protection. We’d fallen into bed without talking. We had Vincent to worry about.
What if I’d made a terrible mistake?
“You look stressed all of a sudden,” Jasper said, nuzzling my neck. “Start talking.”
He pulled back, the corners of his mouth softening into understanding, or worse, maybe. Because the look was almost one of hope.
I couldn’t promise him anything. Not when I was still piecing myself back together and learning how to be a mother. Not when a whole little person depended on me to make good choices. Responsible choices.
“We didn’t use protection,” I said.
“I thought you couldn’t get pregnant while breastfeeding.” He kissed one breast, then the other, unconcerned.
“I’m not sure that’s 100 percent reliable,” I replied, heat already curling in my belly again. “Fuck, what if I get pregnant again?”
Jasper lifted his head, a massive grin on his face. “That would be awesome.”
My stomach plummeted.
“Sorry.” He winced. “But if that’s not what you want…” His expression turned sheepish.
“I just had a surprise baby,” I said, pushing off his chest, putting a little distance between us.
“Do you want more kids?” he asked as he flopped onto his back.
This was a way bigger conversation than I was ready to have. “No idea. I never thought I’d be able to have a baby. Doctors told me I’d be infertile. And Vincent is such a miracle. It feels greedy to want more. What about you?”
He shrugged. “Vincent is amazing. For now, I’m thrilled just to wake up every day and be his dad. And I want to do it right,” he said, his tone taking on a more serious quality. “Do a good job. If more kids arrive in the future, I’ll be thrilled, but I’m content for now.”
Dammit. Why did this man have to be so perfect? And why did he have to look so sweet and earnest all the time?
I sat up and pulled the sheet up over my chest. This pillow talk was getting too intimate too fast. Every alarm in my brain was screaming at me to flee the scene of this sexy crime.
“We should probably not…” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Um, make this a thing.”
He frowned at me. “A thing?”
The confusion in his voice broke me. The furrow of his brow and how his hand stilled against the mattress like he wasn’t sure if he should touch me again made my heart ache.
“I just mean.” My throat tightened. “We got caught up. It was good.”
“You’re mispronouncing amazing,” he said, forcing a cocky grin that fell a little flat.
“Amazing,” I corrected. “But it’s all complicated.”
He was quiet for a moment, studying me. “You’re allowed to want something good, Evie,” he eventually said, his tone careful. “You know that, right? You’re allowed to want support, love, and orgasms. You deserve it all.”
That nearly undid me. I nodded, unable to look at him. “I know.” That was a lie. I didn’t really think I could have those things, but it seemed best to agree. “But I can’t afford to get this wrong.”
He exhaled slowly, his eyes shuttering, like he was retreating. Not out of anger, but out of respect.
That only made it worse.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” I hedged.
He tipped my chin up and brought his face close to mine. “We can take it slow. I’d never rush you. But I’m not going anywhere.” The words were resolute. “And I won’t force you. If you want me, you know where to find me.”
With that, he stood and gathered his clothes. As I watched him dress, my chest ached with the emptiness left behind.
“I need to get ready for my shift anyway.”
The moment he stepped into the hall, the tears began to fall.
Because for a few moments, I’d believed I could have it all: safety, love, laughter, and warmth. But that was a lie. Life had taught me differently. Except now all I could think about was how good it had felt to stop fighting the need to push this man away.