Series Epilogue #2
I grinned. While she wasn’t yet ready to string entire sentences together, Vivien had learned a fair few words.
However, after being treated to a bit of Sloane Harrow’s cookies, cookie was Viv’s new favorite word.
Robyn was not pleased as she was determined Vivien would be sweet-free until at least two years old on the guidance from our health advisor.
Regan, the cookie giver, to my amusement, got a guilty look on her face every time Viv said cookie. “How about some banana instead?”
Vivien lifted her head to blink at me, her tear tracks still staining her cheeks. “Nana?”
“Aye, banana.”
She made a face and sighed wearily again as she rested her head on my shoulder. I took that as a reluctant yes.
Pressing another kiss to her head and breathing in her scent, I tightened my hold. A few years ago, if anyone had told me I’d be married and a father, I’d have laughed at the absurdity of it.
Yet, here I was. Wedding band on my left ring finger.
Daughter in my arms. Watching the sun rise over Caelmore.
In a few hours, I’d head onto the estate to see to business.
I’d then drive to the small distillery I owned with Brodan to check on the building of the main distillery, as well as the progress of our whisky production.
It was a slow process, but one I knew would be worth it.
From there, I’d call Robyn to see where she’d taken Vivien on her travels for the day, camera in hand, and I’d drive to find them.
Be with them. I was on call if anyone needed me.
Perhaps I’d settle back into a more normal routine as Vivien grew.
But for now, I didn’t want to miss a thing.
Footsteps sounded behind us, and Robyn, dressed in her robe, hair still a wild mess from our spectacular sex, drew up beside us.
“Mummy.” Vivien lifted an arm to her without raising her head from my shoulder and Robyn grinned, leaning into kiss Viv all over. Giggles erupted from our daughter, and she smiled sleepily as Robyn lifted her head.
Our eyes met, and she smiled at me.
Fear tickled the back of my mind. Its shadow never left me, the terrifying thought of one day losing her, losing Viv. But I fought it back each day. I chose gratitude. Because very few people in this world were given the chance to love like I loved.
I wouldn’t waste that gift by worrying about tomorrow.
My wife slid her arm around my waist, leaning into my side, our daughter between us.
“Beautiful morning,” she whispered, staring out at the water with us.
“Aye,” I answered, voice gruff with emotion. “It is that.”
THANE
For my wife, I’d do anything.
Even hover outside our shared office, eavesdropping on her like a spying creep.
Why would I do something that raised a red flag in any relationship?
Because for the last few weeks, I’d noted Regan’s preoccupation.
While she came easily into my arms anytime I reached for her, I could sense her mind was elsewhere.
This made me extremely uneasy because Regan was one of the most open people I’d ever met.
And there would always be that tiny voice in the back of my head questioning why a gorgeous young woman would want to stay in the Scottish Highlands to be wife to a man thirteen years her senior and stepmum to his kids.
I’d gotten very good at silencing that voice. Regan made it easy. She showed us every day that she was more than content with our life together.
This sudden distance I felt from her bothered me to where it was all I could think about.
Was she sick? Was she growing discontent?
Had I forgotten something important or said the wrong thing?
What the fuck was going on? I was not a man who enjoyed this unfamiliar feeling of insecurity.
When I asked her to tell me what was wrong, she gave me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, kissed me, and told me she was tired.
Construction had commenced on her soon-to-be preschool just as she was finishing her business degree while also dealing with all the agencies she needed to register herself and the business with. It was a plausible excuse. But I knew she was lying.
And that worried the fuck out of me too.
My concern morphed and changed three days ago when I was putting out the rubbish and the bag broke.
I was outside, muttering curse words under my breath, trying to shove everything back in and grimacing at the unknown substance deposited on my hands, when I spotted an object that had fallen out with the waste.
A pregnancy test.
For a moment, I could only stare at it.
Then, shaking out of my shock, I picked it up. Moving into the bright outdoor light, I squinted at the words printed on the white stick.
Pregnant = two lines.
Not pregnant = one line.
Two red lines stared up at me.
Suddenly Regan’s distance made sense.
Sort of.
A mix of elation and fear and anticipation filled me. I’d felt those emotions twice before. They were definitely more heightened with Lewis because I was a first-time dad. I felt more assured with Eilidh. Now I felt more of the excitement than the fear.
A child with Regan.
Ours.
But why would this preoccupy her? Why would she keep it from me?
I waited over the next few days for her to tell me the news. But nothing. In fact, Regan seemed to grow even more distant. When I woke in the morning, she was already up and about and keeping herself so busy, as if to avoid talking to me. I couldn’t work it out.
Did she not want a child with me?
That made little sense. She’d told me before we ever got engaged that as much as she loved Eilidh and Lewis, she would like another child.
We’d not spoken of it since, though.
The fear that Regan didn’t want a child with me was probably irrational, but I couldn’t ignore it. It made me act like a fool.
That’s how I found myself eavesdropping on my wife’s phone call to her sister instead of manning up and telling her I knew she was pregnant.
“I can’t really talk here.” I heard Regan say softly. I strained to hear better. “No, Thane’s home. The kids are out with Arran and Ery … I did go … I didn’t call you last night because I couldn’t get away from Thane.”
I frowned at that. Get away from me?
“He knows something’s wrong,” she whispered.
“I feel so bad for keeping this from him … Yeah, the doc confirmed it yesterday … I know … Robbie, I know … I’m not making this up in my head and turning it into an unnecessary drama,” she snapped.
There was silence on her end, then a quiet, “I know you didn’t mean it like that, but when Vivien and Skye were born, Thane said, and I quote, ‘The thought of going through that again makes me tired in my very bones.’”
With the heavy suddenness of an anvil dropping, understanding slammed into me.
“That’s a pretty emphatic thing to say.”
Dammit, I did say that.
I closed my eyes and squeezed the bridge of my nose. What a stupid fucking thing to say to her.
“What if … Robbie, we’re so happy … what if this screws it up?” More silence and then my chest caved at the sound of her sniffle. “I want this baby so badly … I know … I don’t know why I’m freaking out so much … Really? You think it’s hormones?”
Right.
My wife was afraid to tell me she was pregnant because of a stupid unthinking comment I’d made months ago.
Something needed to be done about that.
Walking quietly away from the office, I hurried upstairs and made my way to the end of the hallway.
Grabbing the pole hook, I latched it to the attic door and pulled, revealing the collapsing stairs.
Using the hook, I pulled the stairs down, stabilized them, and ventured up.
The attic space was massive, and we had furniture and all kinds of things up here in storage, including the huge collection of Christmas decorations Regan had amassed over the last few years.
Striding toward the back, I moved a few boxes out of the way to reveal Eilidh’s cot.
We had a couple of travel cots stored next to them we used for Vivien and Skye whenever they visited, but Eilidh’s old cot was a classic white wooden frame.
It came with a green canopy that fastened to the ceiling above it.
We’d need a new mattress, but for my purposes, I had what I required.
Spying a box of Eilidh’s old toys and books, I grinned.
Perfect.
Hoping Regan would continue avoiding me for a while, I unscrewed parts of the cot so I could get it down the stairs without making too much noise. It took me just over half an hour and thankfully, my wife didn’t come up to see what I was doing.
Once I was done, I wandered downstairs, hot from my exertions and bloody eager to have this strangeness over between us.
I strode into the office, and she turned from her computer. Noting the dark circles under her eyes, I frowned. Once everything was out in the open, we’d have words about her being afraid to tell me the truth. “Come with me. I need to show you something.”
She smirked. “A please might get my ass off this chair.”
“Please come with me.” I held out my hand.
Curiosity sparked in her gaze and she got up, placing her hand in mine. I squeezed hers tight, staring into her gorgeous hazel eyes for a few seconds. Didn’t she know by now I’d do anything for her?
“Thane?”
“Come.” I tugged on her hand and led her into the kitchen/living room and upstairs.
“Is this an afternoon booty call, because I … I have something to tell you first.”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw her nervous expression. Oh, she was ready now, was she? “Sex with your husband is never a booty call,” I corrected. “And no, this is not an afternoon delight. Yet.”
She snorted, and I was relieved to hear the sound.
“Then what are we doing …” Regan’s words trailed off into a gasp as we entered our bedroom.
Turning, I studied her as she gaped at the makeshift nursery I’d created.