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“I planned on it,” I said each word slowly as I judged her reaction.
“Okay, I’m exhausted from today—”
Disappointment quickly flooded my chest, but I refused to let her see it. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She laughed and placed a hand on my chest. “I meant, I’m exhausted in that I’m just going to be ordering takeout instead of cooking. Please come over.”
“Takeout sounds perfect, and maybe bed early and I’ll take care of you since you’re so exhausted . . .” I raised an eyebrow and she blushed.
“Coen,” she chastised.
“Drive safe, Duchess, I’ll see you soon.”
After a quick light-saber stabbing from Parker and a kiss from Reagan, they left my studio, and I just stood there staring at the door they’d walked through.
“I didn’t know you were married.”
I turned to look at my client and laughed awkwardly. “Uh, I’m not. That’s my girlfriend.”
He looked over at the door, and a look crossed his face like that had explained it all. “Got it! Now I don’t feel bad thinking that kid had probably been the result of the milkman.”
My face dropped and hands clenched into fists, but I forced myself to laugh again. “You ready to finish this?”
“Yeah, but, Coen . . . I wouldn’t be looking out for you if I didn’t say this.” He put his hands on his hips and looked at me like he was about to deliver the worst news possible.
I steadied myself and crossed my arms over my chest as I waited for him to continue. I still hadn’t completely ruled out punching him.
“I dated this girl for a while who had a daughter. I was cool with her kid, the girl was a total sweetheart. Next thing I know my girlfriend’s pregnant and freaking out, saying she can’t have another kid by herself. She tried so damn hard to get me to marry her before she had the baby; but that wasn’t about to happen. And thank God it didn’t. Found out after the kid was born that he wasn’t even mine. My girlfriend had to do a paternity test to find out who the father was because she had been fucking four different guys. Trying to get one of us to marry her because she wanted someone to help her raise her first kid. And she’d sworn up and down she was on the pill. I believed her, trusted her, loved her and her daughter . . .”
My forehead bunched together. “What exactly are you getting at?”
He held up his hands like he was surrendering. “I’m not trying to piss you off, and your girlfriend may be amazing. But I thought my girl had been amazing too. I’d admired how strong she was, and how she never wanted help from anyone. How she’d never let anyone into her and her daughter’s life before me. How she supported her and her daughter all by herself. It wasn’t until push came to shove that everything began unraveling, and I found out everything had been bullshit. An illusion that the four of us—hell, maybe even more—had fallen for.”
My body had locked up at some point, and I had to force myself to start breathing again. Keeping my expression blank so he wouldn’t realize he’d just explained Reagan perfectly, I stared at him for a bit longer as I tried to block the words he’d just told me, and finally shook my head. “You don’t know my girlfriend.”
“All right. I’m sorry, you’re right, I don’t. I just . . . when you said she was your girlfriend, it was like déjà vu, and I wish there’d been someone to warn me. So, I had to at least give you something to think about. I told you, she might be amazing. That was just my experience, and I felt like I needed to warn you or something. Sorry for overstepping my bounds.”
“Let’s just finish this shoot, yeah?” I walked over to grab my camera, and no matter how hard I tried not to think about it . . . I couldn’t stop.
His story, and thoughts of what Saco was currently going through, flooded my mind. One with an ex-girlfriend who matched mine. One with a wife who had succeeded in trapping him in a marriage by getting pregnant. I’d never once worn a condom with Reagan. Even though she’d avoided men, she’d been on the pill ever since Parker was born.
Or, that’s what she’d told me.
Now that I thought about it. That didn’t make sense.
No . . . no. I knew Reagan. I knew her. I loved her. I loved Parker.
But then, why would she suddenly let in a guy after so many years of avoiding them? And a guy like me? I was damaged. I had demons. I was constantly trying to figure out what I’d done to deserve someone like her . . . and now us together made even less sense. Had I seemed like an easy target? Someone who would easily believe her story?
Pressing my hand against my forehead, I willed all this bullshit to leave my mind. I’d never doubted us, or been suspicious of her, until five minutes ago. And it was only because of that fucking story. I knew Reagan. She wouldn’t—Christ. I’d just told Brody that I wanted to marry her and wanted to be Parker’s dad. He was right. Not even three months later and I was already thinking about marrying her? I couldn’t do this. I just—I couldn’t.
Reagan—November 1, 2010
PARKER’S FACE LIT up when there was a knock on the door, and I nodded my head in the direction of it.
“Want to guess who that is?”
His smile got wider before he took off running for the door. “Coen! Did you have fun shooting that guy?”
