Mae checked the clock for the hundredth time Saturday morning as she put on one last swipe of mascara. It was while she was doing her hair that she realized how idiotic she was being for a guy she didn’t even trust.
But she wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to.
Steeling her weak, hopeful heart, she threw her hair up into a short ponytail and lied to herself that she didn’t care what she looked like in her cut-off shorts and sky-blue top. Then she went to make Ian eggs for breakfast. Her stomach was too unsettled for more than a piece of toast.
“When is Merit gonna be here?” he asked as she started folding the three loads of laundry piled on their couch.
Another glance at the clock revealed only six minutes had passed since she’d checked it at seven-ten. “Seven-thirty. But he’s a busy guy, Ian. There’s a chance he won’t make it.”
“Oh.”
She frowned at the disappointment in his face and voice. Was she wrong to prepare her son for the possibility Merit would flake on the invite? Maybe, since she’d said the words as much for herself as for Ian. Still, he might actually show up, right?
I sure hope so.
They’d find out in fourteen minutes. Mae sent a brief prayer heavenward for her son not to be disappointed, then smiled across the room at her little Scooby Doo.
“Hey, no long face until we see what happens, okay? Finish up and get your soccer stuff on.” He drank the rest of his milk and carried his dishes to the sink. “Thanks, bud,” she called as he darted off to his room.
She blew out an unsteady breath, her emotions in a jumble. After Ian’s comments about wanting a daddy instead of a sibling, and seeing how quick he’d latched onto Merit, her concerns of him getting hurt were increasing. But then, there was that conversation she’d overheard last night.
It had taken everything she had to keep tears at bay as she listened to the two of them, bonding as they sat on the cement fixing that stupid lawnmower. Ian hadn’t wanted to talk to her, but he’d had no problem opening up to Merit. It had broken her heart even as her own protective armor cracked when he reassured Ian he’d be a good big brother.
Keeping her defenses intact as she yelled at him for undermining her authority had been hard, especially when she really wanted to step forward and hug him for being so good with her little boy. It was a good sign for the kind of father he’d be to their baby.
Maybe she needed to start giving him the benefit of the doubt. It wasn’t like he’d disappeared after she told him she was pregnant. Or asked her to get an abortion.
Instead, he’d shown up at her work, and again last night. Other than the, “Are you sure it’s mine?” question, he’d been the complete opposite of Patrick. And if he kept up the opposite actions, it meant he was going to be in their lives. It stood to reason it would be best if they got along.
It would be even better if we got together again.
Her pulse ticked up a notch as she considered another night like at the hotel where Honor and Asher’s wedding had been held. Heat pooled low in her belly, and her nipples puckered from the memory of his hands and mouth on her body.
Yeah, okay, she’d give him the benefit of the doubt—if he showed up.
Think positive. He’s gonna show.
Ian dashed down the hall toward her, soccer ball in hand. “I’m gonna go practice my dribble.”
The door banged as he ran outside, and Mae tossed the shorts in her hand on the remaining laundry. He’d gone out to the front, so she knew he’d be watching for Merit, too.
He better show if he knows what’s good for him.
She did her best to ignore the passing minutes while filling a small cooler with snacks and drinks before carrying it out to the truck. She took her time loading a couple of folding chairs in the back, reminded Ian not to get too close to the road, then went inside to use the bathroom one last time.
On her way back out, her gaze automatically shifted to the clock on the stove.
7:34.
Her chest tightened as she locked up and headed out to the garage. Ian was still dribbling his soccer ball back and forth across the driveway, the early morning sunshine making his blond hair look almost white. She squinted upward. They were calling for thunderstorms later, but right now there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
She waited one last extra minute, playing with the zipper on her light-weight, navy hoodie before unclenching her jaw to call it. “Scoob, we gotta go.”
He checked the street one more time. When she saw his shoulders slump before he leaned down to swipe up his ball, the resentment simmering in her gut bubbled up. She was mad at Merit and herself. She shouldn’t have let her foolish, lonely heart get her hopes up.
Her disappointed little boy turned to walk toward their truck at the same moment a familiar red SUV turned the corner. Mae’s pulse jerked, and the frantic beat of her heart shortened her breath. After sucking in some oxygen to calm her nerves, she called out, “Hey, look, here he comes now.”
Ian whipped around with a huge grin. “I knew he’d come!”
Mae held back her own smile as Merit turned into her driveway. He grinned at her son jumping up and down while waving like a lunatic, and rolled down his window.
“Ian, my man. You look like you’re ready to score a goal.”
“I am.”
“Awesome. Nice jersey.”
Her little boy puffed out his chest in the red and white jersey with Lockhart Construction printed on the top left. “Mom sponsored our team this year.”
“That’s pretty cool.”
Merit’s comment gave her a little thrill of pride. It was where her lawnmower fund had gone when their usual sponsor unexpectedly backed out. She hated fixing the mower, but she’d keep doing it for the kids.
He then shifted his gaze to her, and his smile dimmed slightly. “Sorry I’m late. The line at the coffee shop took longer than I expected.”
And just like that, her pleasure at seeing him fled.
Long line, or did you get caught up flirting with Lyssa?
She bit back the sarcastic question and turned Ian toward the truck. “Go get buckled in.”
“I can drive,” Merit offered.
“Our stuff is already loaded in the truck.”
She watched him watch Ian. The bright sunlight glinted off his dark hair that appeared to have only been finger-combed. He hadn’t bothered to shave either, and the dark layer of scruff gave him a rugged, sexy air and set off butterflies in her stomach.
There was a smear of orange just below his left earlobe, but before she could figure out what it was, he shifted his gaze back to her. The angle of the sunlight turned his eyes luminescent, and the hypnotizing effect of his dark lashes and brows with the warm, caramelly brown of his irises almost made her forget she was annoyed.
“Thanks for waiting for me,” he said.
“I waited for Ian, not you.”
His gaze narrowed, flicking toward her truck, and then back to her. “Okay, then. You lead. I’ll follow.”
It was stupid to take two vehicles. However, knowing he stopped for coffee from his booty call before coming to see her and Ian, she didn’t feel inclined to correct him.
“By the way, I got you a cup.” He reached toward his console and then held it out the window to her. “I don’t know how you take it, so I got cream and sugar on the side.”
“Pregnant women aren’t supposed to…” Her voice faltered when her brain registered the black and red Java Hut logo on the cup. Not Brew For You. “Have caffeine,” she finished.
“Oh. Shit. I didn’t know that.” He pulled it back.
Inordinately pleased he’d gone to a different coffee shop, she shrugged lightly. “Doesn’t mean I can’t have a little here and there.”
He raised his eyebrows, and she held out her hand with a small, olive-branch smile. He grinned back as if she’d given him a rainbow, and handed her the cup.
“Thanks.”
“Cream or sugar?”
“Both.” He passed them through the window as well.
Mae figured since she’d extended the branch, she might as well offer the tree. She motioned toward her truck with her head. “Why don’t you ride with us? No sense wasting gas.”
Merit didn’t even take two seconds to consider before grabbing his own cup and his sunglasses off the dash.
He hopped out to join her, and she had to wipe a silly grin off her face when he first hurried to open her door for her, then loped around to get in on the passenger side. He took her cup and added the extras as she backed out of the driveway.
She hadn’t had coffee since the morning she’d taken the pregnancy test, and she enjoyed every savory sip that slid down her throat as she drove to the field while the guys talked soccer. They arrived a few minutes before eight, and Ian ran to join his team while she and Merit loaded their arms with the chairs, cooler, and a blanket.
On their way to the sidelines, Mae called out greetings to the parents she knew. She noticed some curious glances, and more than a few of the moms checked Merit out from head to toe and back up again. She wanted to tell them to back the hell off, but reined in the possessive green monster and set up camp a little farther down the sidelines than normal.
And really, it was hard to blame them. His face was pretty enough, but the rest of him was looking exceptionally yummy in a snug, gray T-shirt, extremely worn jeans that hugged his backside perfectly, and tennis shoes.
It was interesting how each of the brothers had their own style. Asher liked jeans without holes and crisp, untucked button up shirts with sleeves rolled to the elbows. Loyal was always pressed and tucked in his khaki’s and smart vests. While Merit, other than the one time she saw him in a tux for his brother’s wedding, seemed to favor T-shirts and jeans, holes and rips be damned. No one would ever guess the guy was worth well over seven figures.
“Chairs and a blanket?” he asked as she spread out her red, white, and blue throw in front of the chairs.
“Yep. Keeps people from sitting in front of us.”
“You’re kidding. They do that?”
“The second time an opposing team’s parents did it to me with umbrellas, I started bringing the blanket. Hasn’t happened since.”
“Ok-ay.”
“Plus, I can stretch out if I want.”
“Can I join you?”
The husky, suggestive question made her heart skip even as she darted a quick glance around to see if anyone had overheard him. “It’s a kid’s soccer game,” she admonished in a low tone. “Keep your mind out of the gutter.”
“You’re going to have to help me with that.” He grinned. “My mind took up permanent residence in the gutter round about the time I turned thirteen.”
She twisted to face him, hands braced on her hips. “Well, then, have a seat, and I’ll tell you all about having to pee every half-hour when the baby is sitting on my bladder. Then there’s the heartburn, swollen ankles, weight gain and stretch marks—”
“Stop. Please.” He held up both hands in surrender. “That’s way too much seduction for me to handle with all these people around.”
Mae laughed as she dropped down into one of the canvas chairs. He sat in the other and drained the rest of his Java Hut cup before tossing the empty under his chair.
“How do you take your coffee?” she asked. Partly because she was curious, and partly to distract herself from thinking about how persistent he was now, but things would change when she had swollen ankles and stretch marks.
“I had a caramel mocha latte.”
“Ah. So just a little coffee with your sugar?”
“Yep.” He smiled and extended his legs to cross them at the ankles as he slouched in the chair. Then he lolled his head in her direction to give her a wicked grin as he eyed her over the rim of his sunglasses. “I like it sweet, remember?”
It was the “remember?” tacked on at the end that stole her breath away. That, and the return of his low, husky tone shot heat straight to her core. The one night they’d spent together, he’d said she tasted sweeter than honey.
“Merit,” she whispered in warning.
His eyes darkened as his lashes lowered, his attention zeroing in on her mouth. She realized she’d licked her lips at the same time the referee blew the whistle to start the game. She jumped about three inches, and heard Merit’s low groan as she turned to watch the kids run across the field. Ian’s team was in red and white, the opposing team in green and black.
Mae took a sip of her coffee, but it was too hot with the sizzling heat burning under her skin, so she held it out to the sexy devil beside her. “I probably shouldn’t drink any more of this. You want the rest?”
“Sure.”
The brush of his fingers against hers sent her pulse soaring again. As soon as he took the coffee cup, she stripped off her hoodie and fished a water bottle out of the cooler. After guzzling a quarter of the contents, it took effort to keep from pressing the cold plastic against her neck and into the V of her breasts.
Her nipples tightened, and she did a covert glance to make sure they weren’t poking out like little twin peaks. Nope, all good. Though, damn, her cleavage was way more pronounced in her top, her chest having already increased a cup size with the pregnancy.
She and Merit had only had that one night together, but she wondered if he’d notice. He’d seemed to really enjoy playing with her breasts, and had done magical things with his hands and his mouth—
Focus on the field, not the man next to you. Focus on the kids.
K.I.D.S.
While she stared across the field, Merit sat forward to brace his forearms on his knees. “What number is Ian again?”
She pointed out his number four jersey on the opposite side, and then gladly answered all his questions about the rules in between calling out encouragement to the players and cheering when they made a goal. With Merit there, self-consciousness held her back a little, until Ian kicked the ball into the net ten seconds before half-time.
She jumped to her feet and put her fingers to her lips to blow a loud whistle. Ian had told her last year he could always hear her whistle so it had become their thing. Then she clapped and cheered, and lifted a hand to Merit for a high-five.
He slapped her raised palm with a grin. “You really get into this, don’t you?”
“That’s my kid out there,” she boasted proudly, sitting back down as the ref signaled for half-time.
“Impressive whistle you got there.”
“Thanks.” She craned her head to watch Ian run to the sidelines, then sat back in her chair and reached for her water.
“I want to come to your doctor appointments.”
Mae’s stomach flipped over at the sudden switch in Merit’s tone from teasing to serious. The unexpected subject change triggered an initial flash of fear about letting him get too close. But before her defenses soared sky high, she made herself pause for a beat.
Benefit of the doubt, remember? He’s here—and this is the second time he’s asked.
“Okay.”
He arched his brows as she took a drink of water.
“Yeah?”
She nodded. “My first one is scheduled for Tuesday at nine-thirty. I’ll text you the office address.”
“Right now?”
“Um…” At his expectant look, she pulled out her phone and sent him the info. A second later, his phone made a humming noise in his pocket.
“Thank you.” His chin lowered, his attention shifting toward her stomach. “It’s hard to believe there’s a baby in there. You don’t look pregnant.” He jerked his gaze up. “That’s not to say that I doubt you are. I swear, I didn’t mean it that—”
“Relax, I get what you mean,” she assured him with a soft laugh. “Give it a month or two. But right now, I’m at eleven weeks, so the baby is only about the size of a lime.”
“How do you know that?”
“I have a book that goes through the size from week to week.”
“Can I see it when we get back to your place?”
“Sure.” But then she had to turn away, because tears had suddenly flooded her eyes. Merit shifted in his chair, and in her peripheral vision, she saw him push his sunglasses up while leaning forward with a frown.
“What’s the matter?”
She shook her head, tried to stop the tears, but then gave up and turned to him with an embarrassed, watery laugh. “Just another one of those sexy things about pregnancy. I cry at the drop of a hat.”
“Or me asking to read a book?”
His soft smile melted her heart, and she wiped her cheeks. “Yeah. Ian’s father…well, let’s say he had a very different reaction than you so far. He didn’t even want me to have Ian, and he signed his rights away the day he was born.”
“I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been. I’m sorry.”
“So was I, but mostly for Ian. It’s probably best he has nothing to do with him. He wasn’t the man I thought he was.”
“It’s his loss,” Merit murmured as his gaze met hers. “Big time.”
And maybe he’s not the only one who’s not the man I thought he was.
She swallowed hard at the intensity of his gaze, and when she lowered her lashes, she noticed the speck of orange under his ear again. She automatically reached to wipe it off, but caught herself just before her fingers touched his face.
He grasped her hand when she started to retreat. “What?”
The warmth of his hand engulfed hers, and she had to take a second to focus. “You have something by your ear.”
His brows drew together as he let her go. The kids were returning to the field and the whistle blew as he swiped his hand over his ear. “Did I get it?”
“No. It’s still there. It’s just below.”
He wiped again, and arched his dark brows.
“Nope.”
“Then you get it.”
He leaned in, and she found her gaze locked with his for a heart-stopping moment. Swallowing hard, she shifted her attention and reached up to swipe her thumb over the spot.
“It looks like paint,” she commented. “Where you using orange paint on something?”
He stiffened slightly and reached to replace her hand with his. “I, uh—”
A cheer went up on the field. Mae whipped around to see Ian’s teammates high-fiving him near the net. “Damn it. I missed his goal.”
She never missed his goals.
“I was told I’d get yelled at for saying words like that,” Merit murmured.
“You will if you say them in front of my son,” she retorted as she saw Ian looking their way. She hurried to give him the whistle, and he shot her a grin and a wave before running back to his spot in time to resume play.
Determined to keep her son front and center, Mae made sure to watch the rest of the game instead of getting distracted by the man beside her.