Lane
One year later
Steering down our long driveway, snow and gravel crunching under the large tires, I maneuvered my enormous SUV through the dark. After five days abroad, I was fucking thrilled to be home.
As I pulled the car around the back of the house, I frowned as I took in the multitude of twinkling white lights covering the wraparound porch and knew who was inside waiting for me—all the way in quiet and quaint Ligonier.
Shit. I couldn’t get away from that dapper little shit.
Slamming the truck into park in front of the garages, I jumped out in a hurry. There was someone I needed to get my arms around, and it wasn’t him. Stepping into ankle-deep snow, my Prada boots sinking into the wet white slush, I made a mental note to move the garages to the top of the renovation list.
After unlocking the front door, I stomped my feet on the throw rug just inside the foyer, opening my mouth to yell, “I’m home,” when I was greeted with a firm, “Hush!”
Narrowing my eyes, I turned to the man behind the bossy words ... and glared.
But with Brooks nearly toppling over the small stack of Nikes at the door, panting and begging for me to pet him, I obeyed. I didn’t dare make a sound. Not because of the jerk who told me to be quiet, but the only reason I ever needed to shut my mouth. And I wasn’t happy about it.
Lowering my voice to a whisper, I said, “Hello, James. I see you’ve taken over my entire house.”
Taking in his rumpled shirt and jeans, I gathered he’d been at it a while. Moving my sights to the roaring fire, hearing the Christmas music playing softly in the background, I shrugged my coat off and tossed it over the banister.
James brought his hands together in a quiet clap. “I know, aren’t the lights outside fabulous? And the way they bounce off the snow? They’re real beauts!” he said in an excited whisper.
A very quiet, “Yes. Fabulous,” came out of my mouth as I feigned excitement. If I didn’t compliment the man, I might never be able to move on to the real “beaut” of the house.
“Where’s my girl?” I asked in a low voice.
“Which one?” he asked, softly chuckling.
“James,” I hissed in a warning tone, losing my patience.
“Okay, okay. Bess is taking a bath, relaxing. I insisted she take some time for herself as soon as Madison went to sleep.”
“Damn,” I whispered, my suspicions confirmed. I wanted to hold my baby for just one minute when I got home.
James threw his arm around me. “Think of it this way—you get your wife all to yourself. Seriously, Bess tried to keep Mad awake as long as she could, but the little princess needed her beauty sleep.” He winked and added, “You think those birth control pills are gonna work this time?”
“Enough,” I growled, heading straight to the stairs.
“What? I was there, her only friend, working side-by-side with her. Who else was she going to call from the bathroom floor while she waited to drop the bomb on you?” he said, pretending to be coy.
Rolling my eyes, I brushed past him, pausing a moment to point at the dog and tell him to stay on the first floor. But the memory of that day was still burned in my mind.
“Bess?” I’d called as I came in from the garage, greeted only by the air-conditioning slapping me in the face. I’d called her name again as I headed down the hallway and up the stairs.
When I searched the upstairs, becoming more frantic the longer I searched, I breathed out a sigh of relief when I finally found her sitting on our bathroom floor.
“Hey, babe,” I said, entering with caution. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her hair was a holy mess. Wearing only a tank top and boy shorts, with her sad tattoo on display, she was the picture of dejection.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes huge as she gazed up at me.
“For what?” Taking in the scene, it was pretty obvious, but who knew what was going through Bess’s head.
“I’m p-pregnant,” she stammered. “It’s yours.”
“Well, I should hope so.” I sat down on the floor with her, settling right next to her as my suit pants wrinkled, but I didn’t care.
“You’re not upset?” she asked, flinging one of the sticks she’d peed on toward the wastebasket, but missing it.
