Chapter 5
Hazel
Oh my God, what have I done?
I stare at my dad as his jaw hinges open. I’m nearly as stunned myself.
Even Luke looks dumbfounded, but he covers it quickly. He steps to my side, placing a hand on my shoulder. I shoot him a glare, and he lets his hand drop but doesn’t step back or attempt to take charge.
This is my circus to run, and I run it with fury and fire from my seat at this battered tan table. “That’s right,” I say to my father. “I’m unmarried and accidentally pregnant. Oops! And get this—the father of my children—this man right here?”
Luke tips his chin but says nothing, letting me handle the chaos I’m creating.
“This guy has a prison record.” I say it a little too loudly, and one of the guards glances over. He furrows his brow, then moves to confer with a guard in the corner.
My time is limited here, so I’d better wrap this up. My father’s staring like I’ve just licked his eyebrow, which bolsters the story I’m spinning.
“You heard me right.” I square up my shoulders as my father continues to stare. “I’m having twin girls with an ex-con who did hard time. And no, before you ask, Luke and I aren’t getting married. We’re not even dating, which makes me even flakier, right?”
My father blinks slowly, like he’s not sure which thing to address first. “You’re…pregnant?”
“It happened by accident.” I sound brassy and bold as my fingers drum the table, but inside my heart beats wildly. “Just a one-night stand gone wrong. Condom must’ve broken or something. We’re not really sure, are we?”
That’s Luke’s cue to pick up the story. “That’s right, sir.” He looks to me like he’s not sure what I need him to do. “I’m a terrible influence on Hazel’s reputation.”
“Awful,” I agree, grateful he gets it. “And even though he promised he’s got no ties to criminals or prison anymore, here he is, rubbing shoulders with inmates.
” There’s a little more venom in my voice than I planned for, so I soften it up for the landing.
“So as you can see, my life’s in a bit of turmoil at the moment. ”
“But she’s not alone.” Luke leaps in to clarify this point. “We might not be together, but you don’t need to worry about Hazel doing everything by herself.”
“That’s right.” I need to get back to the point here. “But I think you’ll agree that an unwed mother knocked up by an ex-con who’s still connected to a life of crime would hardly make a great character witness.”
“I see.” My father folds his hands on the table. “Maybe a judge would look kindly on a single mother. Maybe your testimony could still—”
“She mentioned the speeding ticket, right?” Luke seems to grasp what I need. “I also saw her jaywalking last week.”
“That’s right!” I’m not sure if it’s true, but it must be.
“Yeah,” Luke continues, “I saw you crossing Beachcomber Drive near Ugly Mug and you didn’t even use the crosswalk.”
“Scandalous,” I agree, wishing I had something more.
“Public intoxication!” Luke declares. “Weren’t you at Big One’s trivia night about six months ago, knocking back shots with Zoe and Lucy?”
“That’s right—I was!” I almost forgot about that. “It was Zoe’s birthday and things got wild.” Truthfully, I only had two martinis, but what’s the harm in leaning into the story? “She dared me to dance on the table.”
I didn’t do it, but Dad doesn’t know that.
My father looks stricken, so I dial it back a little. “I wasn’t pregnant yet then. I’m barely four months along.”
But Luke’s on a roll now, getting into the spirit. “Graffiti? Pretty sure I saw you and Lucy’s kid painting something on the side of a bus last month.”
Wow, Luke pays attention.
“That’s right, I was.” I mean, technically, Harper and I repainted a van for the food bank. I’m on the board of directors, and when Mabel McCall donated her old minivan, we volunteered to cover it in cartoon carrots and apples. “I was definitely spray painting a van that doesn’t belong to me.”
My dad looks alarmed. “What’s gotten into you, Hazel?”
“He has.” I poke Luke in the abs, which serves to remind me he’s made of steel plates. “Though if you want to split hairs, I’m the one who seduced him.”
Luke’s nodding along as a guard heads our way. “That’s true, sir. She’s a real hellcat, your daughter.”
I hold back a smile as a fat bulb of pride swells my chest. “There’s a testimonial for the judge. Pretty great character witness, right?”
My father still looks like I’m pulling his leg. “I find this all very hard to believe. You’ve always been a good girl, Hazel. Such a model citizen that you turned in your own father.”
That’s precisely why he believes I’m the best person to get him out of this. But I’m not, and this might be the only way he’ll hear me out. “I’m a hell-raiser,” I insist. “Completely wild and unhinged.”
“It’s true,” Luke agrees. “I think she even tore the tags off her mattress. I noticed when we were in bed and—”
“Okay, that’s actually not illegal.” I appreciate the effort, though. “Buyers are permitted to remove those tags. It’s sellers who are required to leave them intact.”
But still, I think I’ve made my point. I suppose I owe thanks to Luke for the help, which I’ll offer as soon as I finish murdering him.
What did he tell me just last week?
I promise, Hazel—I’ll stay out of trouble; I won’t hang with criminals.
So he lied to me. Lied to me, which is hardly behavior I want from the father of my children. Definitely not in a romantic partner, so I’m relieved I didn’t sleep with him last night. Even though I wanted to. Even though—
“Excuse me, sir?” One of the guards walks over to Luke. “You’re not allowed to be here right now.”
A second guard crosses his arms. “You were supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago.”
Luke looks a little embarrassed. “Right, I was just—”
“Out!” barks the first guard. “Now.” Gripping Luke’s arm, he steers him away.
“Wait!” I get to my feet, ready to argue it’s my fault he stayed past the limit.
But they’re already gone, and I still need to deal with my father. Sitting back down, I face him with both hands folded in my lap.
My father stares like I’m someone he doesn’t quite recognize. “It’s true,” he says softly. “You’re actually having a baby.”
“Two babies.” Instinct propels my hand to my mostly flat abdomen. “With a criminal.”
Shame coats my throat, but I swallow it back. Anger and fury swell up to replace it as I picture Luke’s guilt-stricken look when I saw him.
I may not know what he was doing here, but I do know he lied.
Shaking his head, my father massages his temples. “This can’t be happening.”
“I’m afraid it is.” I’m not afraid, actually. For the first time in weeks, I actually feel lighter. “I had sex with a guy who did hard time, and now I’m knocked up.”
My father breathes deeply, concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Smiling, I splay my palms flat on the table. “But I think we can agree I’m no longer equipped to smile like a sweet little angel and swear to some judge you’re a model citizen.”
Approaching my car, I see Luke leaning back on the hood. He’s wearing a t-shirt that’s faded and patchy, hugging his biceps like somebody pasted it on him. I hate the fierce pulse of heat between my legs, or the way my heart surges into my throat.
“Thank you for playing along,” I tell him. “Please get off my car now.”
“You’re pissed.”
“I’m upset.” I try to maneuver around him, but Luke doesn’t move. “I’ve got a long drive back to Cherry Blossom Lake and a lot of work to do once I get there.”
“I didn’t lie, Hazel.”
“No?” I can’t believe the nerve of him. “One week ago, you sat in my boardroom and said, and I quote, ‘I won’t hang with criminals.’ Does that or does that not sound familiar?”
There’s a tick in his jaw as he clenches his teeth. “It’s not like we went out for beers and then broke into houses.”
“Move, Luke.”
“Not yet.” He studies my face for a moment. “Do you believe some people deserve second chances?”
For fuck’s sake. “You’re not honestly advocating for me to help Owen Spencer get out of prison, are you?”
“No! Hell no. That’s not what I meant at all.”
“Then what did you mean?”
He frowns, scratching his chin. “Just that there’s stuff I’m not allowed to talk about.”
“Spare me,” I snap. “And get off my car.”
“Hazel, look. We both have secrets. I’m not asking to know all of yours.”
“Actually, Luke, you were. Last night in my hotel room? I spilled more secrets than I’ve told anyone, ever. I thought I could trust you.”
“You can.” He holds on to my arm when I try to pull it free. “Being a good father became the most important thing to me the moment you told me you’re pregnant. I would never do anything to jeopardize that.”
“I need to go.” But I don’t. God help me, I stand there soaking up the heat of his big, warm hand on my arm.
Luke keeps talking, those copper-flecked eyes sincere and imploring. “Being the best co-parent I can possibly be for you? That goes with the territory. And I will never, ever, do anything that doesn’t have your best interests at heart.”
My own heart flops over, wooed by his flowery words.
The rest of me tugs my wrist free. “I need to go.”
“I’m still going to be part of the girls’ lives, right?”
The pain in his voice makes me stop in my tracks. “Yes, of course.”
He sags with relief. “Thank God.”
I feel like I need to say something else. “I stand by the legal documents we’ve drawn up to spell out our platonic co-parenting plan.”
“Okay.”
“And I promise I’ll never use our children as leverage. But I need to be clear, I won’t have them exposed to criminal elements.”
His jaw tightens. “Neither will I.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
“Then it’s settled.” I stick out my hand, and he frowns as he takes it. “Platonic co-parents. Nothing more.”
His big hand engulfs mine, warm and solid and secure. “Fine.”
“Okay then.” As I pry my hand from his grip, the chilled air seeps through my skin. “I’ll see you back in Cherry Blossom Lake.”
“All right.” He watches me stomp toward the driver’s side door. “I’ll follow you home. Make sure you get there safely.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Humor me.”
“Fine. Whatever. It’s a free country.” I pivot too fast, then wince as my heel starts to wobble.
Luke’s at my side in an instant. “What is it? Are you okay? Do you need to sit down? Are the babies okay? Where does it hurt?”
“I’m fine, Luke.” I right myself quickly so he won’t see me sway on my feet. “I just twisted my ankle a little.”
“I’ll get you some ice.” He’s already turning back toward the prison, which is nuts.
“Luke, no—I promise I’m fine. Look, I’m walking normally and everything.” I demonstrate perfect poise as I place one low-heeled boot in front of the other, balancing on the bright yellow line of a parking space. “I’m truly all right.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t sound convinced. “I’m still gonna follow you home.”
“Not necessary.” I fish for my purse to pull out my keys, then curse. “Dammit, I left my purse at the security checkpoint. I need to run back.”
“I’ll go.” He frowns. “Or I’ll wait. I doubt they’d give me your purse.”
“Please, just go home.” Sighing, I order myself to stop snapping at him. “Thank you. For what you did back there with my dad?”
“Don’t mention it.” He surveys me carefully, frowning. “You promise you’re okay?”
“I swear.” At least one of us feels safe trusting the other one’s word.
“Fine.” Turning to go, he walks back toward his truck. At the very last second, he stops. “You’re not going to get your dad out of prison, are you?”
“Like I could.”
“You could try.”
He’s right, that’s an option. “I don’t plan to.”
“But?”
How does he know there’s a but? “This isn’t your business.”
“You’re right.” Luke folds his arms. “But I watched Regis Reaghan use money and power to get out of doing hard time. You and your dad would hardly be the first ones to do it. Despite everything you said back there, you’d be one helluva character witness.”
Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “There’s no way my dad’s getting out of his sentence. A transfer to minimum security, maybe…” I trail off when Luke makes a face. “What?”
“Nothing,” he mutters, moving back toward his truck. “See you back home.”
“Fine.”
I run back to the prison and reclaim my handbag. By the time I get back to my car, it’s drizzling. Unlocking the door, I toss in my purse and click my seatbelt into place.
That’s when I spot it. On the passenger seat, there’s a clear plastic bag. Red, fuzzy shapes peek through the top, and it takes me a moment to process.
“Rambutan?” I can’t believe it. Where on earth did he get these?
My mouth starts to water as I pluck out the first one, stabbing the thick, hairy shell with one manicured fingernail.
Peeling it open, I twist off the top and pull out the firm, whitish flesh inside.
The bright scent of roses and melon fills my Mercedes as I pop the small, egglike shape into my mouth.
I scrape off the flesh with my teeth, letting the flavors wash over me.
It’s luscious and sweet, so perfect that tears sting my eyes.
Blinking them back, I glance in my rearview mirror. There’s Luke in his truck, watching me gorge myself silly. Grinning, he waves, and I wave back as my own smile catches me off guard.
He must’ve picked my lock, right? And placed these in here knowing I’d love him forever for just one of these treats.
The bastard.
Waving my gratitude, I hold up the bag and mouth the words thank you.
Luke grins again and beeps his horn twice.
Want one? I mouth, plucking one round, furry fruit from the bag. I wave it around so he sees it.
He shudders dramatically, shaking his head. All you, he mouths back as he points at me. Enjoy.
And I do. Oh my God, how I do.
Tears roll down my cheeks as I devour one rambutan after another. Why on earth am I crying? I don’t have a clue, but I’m suddenly overflowing with emotion—gratitude, hunger, frustration, and pregnancy hormones.
Through it all, Luke sits in silence behind me, patiently watching me gobble his gift.