It was a relief. My life wasn’t set up for a baby in any shape or form. And goddess knows, I wasn’t mother material any more than I was meant to be a wife.
What example had I grown up with for either? I hadn’t known my father. Not his name or anything else about him. My mom had been a partier who had lost interest in being a parent when I was still a kid. Actually, she’d never had any interest. But she’d stuck around for a while, mooching off the state, doing the bare minimum so that I didn’t go to school with holes in my shoes or knots in my hair. When I did, sometimes there was a teacher who cared. Sometimes there wasn’t.
Even so, I didn’t understand that last day when she dropped me off at a church in Syracuse. She went up to the first priest she saw, tugging me by the hand, telling me to shush as I started to cry. The next thing I knew, she was gone.
She didn’t even say goodbye.
I cleared my throat and rubbed my thumbs under my eyes just in case before sweeping t
he test into the garbage. Nope, no tears. I might want to cry, but my eyes were dust dry. I was far too used to shifting dreams aside to get lost in my emotions now. Once before, I’d thought marriage and a child or two might be possible for me.
Now I knew if I didn’t make it happen for myself, it never would.
Frowning, I braced my hands on the sink and faced myself in the bathroom mirror. It was probably where I was heading this evening that had me out of sorts. Vee was having a little get-together with her friends so everyone could meet her twins, Theodore and Elijah.
The boys had been born early right after the wedding, so after spending a bit of time in the preemie ward, they were finally home and healthy. Understandably, Vee and Murphy had wanted to make sure the twins were doing well before they had friends over to meet them, and even so, this would be a relatively small gathering. Vee was doing shifts with her friends. She had a ton of them, and let’s face it, Crescent Cove was baby central. Everyone wanted in on the sweet talcum smell action.
I did too, although today wasn’t the best for me for obvious reasons. I couldn’t make a baby appear just from sheer want, no matter how insane it was to even wish in these circumstances.
The bright side was no one knew what was going on in my head. I’d just fix my makeup, toss on a heavier sweater over my winter-inappropriate dress, swap my killer boots for some ballet flats, and put on my game face. Tonight would be fun. And these babies I could cuddle before giving them back.
On the drive to Murphy and Vee’s cabin, I glanced at the passenger side of the truck. I’d brought a bottle of white wine for those who weren’t pregnant or trying to get pregnant or nursing—pretty much just me—and now I was wondering if I should’ve brought more gifts for the twins. I’d already sent over newborn gifts, but what about Vee? I should’ve thought to pick up a spa package gift certificate for her.
Or…
As I paused at a light, I unwound the pale pink scarf from around my neck, a find new to the shop. Was it tacky to give Vee something I’d worn, even if it was just for a few hours? It was gorgeously soft cashmere and the color would be perfect with her blond hair and blue eyes.
I turned up the street to go toward Ivy and August’s duplex, suddenly clutching the scarf like a kid with a pacifier. I should’ve asked Ivy to pick me up. What was I thinking coming over here while my brain was still full of thoughts about her brother knocking me up?
Even though I was clearly unknocked, it hadn’t stopped the full action reenactments happening in my brain.
I pulled up to the curb and debated honking. No, I’d send a text. August was supposed to be watching the baby while Ivy had her girls’ night out, and Rory was in Turnbull working with his rockstar friend, Kellan McGuire. That meant I could just wait out here and—
Oh for the love of goddess, why was August coming outside with his arms full of baby?
I couldn’t do this again tonight. I was already going to be seeing three at Vee’s, including her eldest son, never mind all the other children who would be discussed, including the ones still being cooked. Now I was going to be confronted with Rhiannon too?
And August, looking all seductively windblown and wintry in his Carhartt jacket and jeans and that stupidly sexy ball cap pulled down over his head. His nose was red to match his reddened knuckles as he shifted the baby in her bright purple jumpsuit to his hip and motioned for me to roll down the window.
I did as requested and immediately stuck both feet in it.
“Where’s Ivy?”
“Taking a bath. You’re early.”
“I’m not.” I glanced at the time on the radio. “Okay, but just by twenty minutes.” Who could blame me for not wanting to sit around and brood?
“Come on in and have a cup of coffee.”
“I’ll wait out here.”
Rhiannon squealed and tilted toward me, apparently having decided she’d been well-behaved enough for approximately one minute. I reached my arm out and she grasped my fingers, immediately drawing them to her mouth.
“She loves Aunt Kin.” His voice warmed over the words to match the heat in his green gaze. It was nearly dark, and still, his eyes were like lasers, practically searing through my sweater and coat to where my nipples were beading against my dress.
I’d foregone a bra for a lacy camisole since it was winter and that meant lots of layers. But right now, that seemed like an unwise move.
Anything that got my breasts closer to August’s sex stares was a big fat heck no.