Chapter Twenty-Nine
Caleb
Tears streamed down Zadie’s face, but she wasn’t falling apart. It was the last of her walls crumbling. She looked at me with an expression so open it almost hurt to witness.
“I want you to be the father.”
Her words echoed through me, cracking pieces of me I didn’t know were still whole enough to be broken. “Zadie…that’s…”
“I know.” She sighed, her body curling toward me, her forehead resting against my shoulder. “But I really want it to be you.”
I pulled her closer, tucking her against my chest. Her breath was warm and unsteady against my neck.
“I wish it was me.” I kissed the side of her face. “Wish it could be.”
She lifted her head, her eyes wet but unwavering. And still so fucking beautiful.
“I want kids. I want a huge family.” My throat tightened. “But the treatments that saved my life damaged me, Zadie. I probably never be able to have kids of my own.”
Still crying, she pressed a hand to my chest. “Then let me give you this.” Her voice was fierce and shaking at the same time. “I’m not wishing on a star. I’m asking you. I want you to be the father of my child. No one else. Just you.”
The air left my lungs. My arms tightened around her, but I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t find a single word big enough for what she’d just handed me.
“Cal?” she whispered. “Say something.”
“What about Sean?” Fuck. Those were not the words I wanted.
“What about him?” She pinned me with a stare that dared me to push back. “I’d never deny him his basic rights. But he’s a mess. Unless he changes how he lives, I’m not sure he’s safe to have around a baby.”
Tension rolled through her, her hands turning to fists at my chest. “Besides, I’ve tried to contact him. Multiple times. He’s obviously not interested in talking to me. I can only assume he’s not interested in being a father either.”
“You don’t know that. People change. If he—”
“Trust me,” she cut in. “I know.”
“Zadie...”
“It’s okay. I’m done worrying about him. He’s not interested, and that’s fine. It’s good, even.” She cupped my face. “Because I don’t want him. I want you. And you still haven’t answered me.”
Her gaze was so full of hope it made my ribs ache.
“Will you? Can you be the father my child deserves? Even if things don’t work between you and me. Even if we only end up being friends. Please, Cal?”
Every dream I’d forced myself to bury was suddenly, impossibly, on the table. The woman I’d waited for had just offered me a future I thought I’d never have.
And she’d done it while sprawled naked beside me.
“Yes.”
My mouth found hers in a slow, searing kiss. She tasted like salt and I kissed her deeper, chasing something underneath it. Her fingers pressed into my skin, and the small sound she made against my lips almost broke me.
Then her hand slid between us, wrapping around my cock, and the tenderness burned away.
We fell into each other all over again.
And again.
Days blurred together. My promise to visit Eric’s family before Solange flew home, work, school, the hospital—all of it was forgotten. Even Chantel, who still hadn’t come home, became an afterthought.
We’d been too consumed with each other. The feel of our bodies joined, the sounds we made, the endless, staggering discovery of what we could do to each other.
But as extraordinary as sex for days had been—and it had been really fucking extraordinary—it couldn’t last forever. Real life didn’t care how happy we were. Real life demanded we wake up.
It came barreling in at precisely two forty-five on a Tuesday afternoon. In the form of a cop with a bad attitude who was even bossier than Chantel.
Zadie and I were sprawled on the living room couch after a marathon of superhero movies—the end credits for The Avengers scrolling across the screen.
We’d also just finished a very different kind of marathon, having watched approximately fifteen minutes of the actual movie.
Everything after that had been background noise while Zadie stripped us both and proceeded to blow my mind. Again.
She was lying on top of me, sweaty and naked, her body molded perfectly to mine, when someone hammered on the front door.
We both jumped.
“Who the hell is that?” she hissed.
“Maybe it’s Chantel.” I scrambled to help her find her clothes while hunting for my pants.
“Why would Chantel knock on her own front door?”
The knocking came again, harder this time.
“I don’t know. Maybe she lost her key.” I pulled on my jeans, kissed Zadie’s cheek, and gave her ass a light tap. “Get out of here. I’ll see who it is.”
I crossed the living room and opened the door.
“Caleb. Took you long enough.” Dylan stood on the porch with his thumbs hooked in his pockets. His golden-blond hair was longer and messier than I’d ever seen it, his expression giving nothing away.
“I was busy.” I leaned against the doorframe. “What are you doing here?”
“Chantel sent me. She wants Zadie but figured you two would be a package deal by now.”
“What?”
“You are a package deal, aren’t you?” His gruff tone sharpened. “Tell me you locked that shit down.”
“Cal?” Zadie’s voice came from behind me.
I glanced back to find her wearing one of my T-shirts—and only my fucking shirt—her bare legs pressed together, her eyes darting between me and the man in the doorway.
We’d been apart for two minutes, but looking at her now was like seeing her for the first time. Her hair was tangled, her cheeks flushed, her lips bright red. She looked thoroughly and recently fucked. She looked sinful and stunning.
She looked like mine.
“Wow.” Dylan’s hand clapped my shoulder. “Good job, kiddo.”
“It’s okay.” I extended my arm to Zadie, and she rushed over to me, pressing into my side as I wrapped her in a possessive hold. “Zadie, this is Dylan.”
“I saw you,” she said, her voice steady. “At Zane’s party. With Chantel.”
“Yeah. I was there.” The words were flat, but for Dylan, that practically counted as friendly.
“Wait.” Her body stiffened against mine. “You’re Dylan? Jamie’s ex, Dylan? Hunter’s father?”
His expression didn’t change, but the pulse at the base of his throat kicked visibly. “That’s me.”
“No wonder Chantel lost it at dinner,” Zadie murmured.
“What’s going on, Dylan?” I cut in.
“I need your woman to come with me.” He looked past me to Zadie. “There’s been an accident.”
She tensed, her body vibrating against mine. “Is it Chantel? Is she okay?”
“Chantel’s fine.” He paused, his gaze bouncing between us. “It’s Sean.”
We both exhaled. But Zadie was still trembling.
“Got sideswiped,” Dylan continued. “He’s at Copper Ridge Regional. Stable, but unconscious. Chantel thought you’d want to be there.”
“You should have called.” I ran my hand over Zadie’s arm, trying to soothe her. “I’d have brought her right away.”
“When was the last time either of you checked your phone?” He raised an eyebrow. “We called. Texted. Called again. Figured you were otherwise occupied, so she sent me. She didn’t want to leave him.”
“She’s there?” Zadie’s voice was tight. “Is she his doctor? I should go. I need to get dressed—”
“Hey.” I grasped her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. “One thing at a time. We’ll get you there.”
“She’s not his attending,” Dylan said. “Conflict of interest. But she hasn’t left his side.”
“Wait. Conflict of interest? What do you mean, conflict of—” The words died in my throat. “Holy shit. Sean? It’s Sean?”
Dylan’s features didn’t soften, but something behind his eyes loosened, like a weight he’d been carrying had finally shifted.
Zadie’s fingers dug into my arm. “What’s going on?”
“Maybe you should get dressed,” Dylan said. “Chantel will want to explain this herself.”
“Explain what?” Zadie’s voice cracked.
I looked at Dylan. He looked at me. And I made the call.
“Go back to the hospital,” I said. “Tell Chantel we’re coming. And tell her I’m the one who told Zadie. She can’t hold it against you, and I’ll find somewhere else to live if I have to.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged. “For the record, I’ve been pushing her to come clean for a long time. But you know how she is—the only place she does what she’s told is in my bed.”
“Jesus Christ.” I closed my eyes. “Get the hell out of here, Dylan.”
I closed the door on him.
Zadie had gone rigid beside me, her arms wrapped around herself, tears already building. “Please. I really need you to tell me what’s going on.”
I brushed a stray curl from her face and took her hand. “Sean Brennan. I know who he is, Zadie.”
Her brow furrowed. “He played in the NHL. Everyone knows—”
“Ask yourself how I know Sean Brennan is your Sean. You never told me his last name.”
The color drained from her face.
“I know him, Zadie. My whole family knows him. He was at our house for Christmas a couple of years ago. I’ve known him since I was a kid.”
“But—”
“Chantel dated him. For years.”
Her grip on my hand turned crushing. “How could she… Why wouldn’t she tell me?”
“I don’t know.” And that was the truth. “But it’s all tied to Dylan. Sean was a cover. She’s been in love with Dylan for at least as long as she dated Sean. Probably longer.”
“There’s got to be more.” Her voice shook. “She wouldn’t keep this from me just to hide a relationship with Jamie’s ex. I don’t even know them. Why would it matter?”
“I’m sure she had reasons and there’s more to it than I know.” I pulled her back against me, wrapping her up tight. “I won’t pretend to understand all of it. But I won’t let them hurt you.”
“It’s too late for that.” Her voice was hollow. “She hurt me the day she started lying. She’s been hurting me for months. Longer. I just didn’t know it.”
“Zadie, I’m—” I caught myself before the word sorry could land. She didn’t need my pity. She needed me to be steady. “I’d offer to take on Sean, but the guy’s got at least fifty pounds on me. Plus, he’s already in the hospital.”
A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. “You’re not seriously comparing yourself to Sean right now.”
“I just found out your ex is a former professional athlete built like a truck. Give me a minute to process.”
“Take all the time you need.” Her hand found my chest, pressing flat over my heart. “But for the record, you’ve already won.”
“Zadie, I need you to get dressed before I change my mind about leaving this house.”
She lifted on her toes, kissed the corner of my mouth, and turned toward the hallway. I watched her walk away, my T-shirt skimming the backs of her thighs, her messy hair sweeping her shoulders.
My fists clenched at my sides. My mind was already racing ahead to the hospital and the wreckage waiting for us there.
Chantel had a lot to answer for. Sean was a problem I hadn’t seen coming. And Zadie was about to walk into a minefield with no map.
But she wouldn’t walk it alone.
That much I could guarantee.