A Second Chance at Forever (10 page)

Luckily for him, his comment seemed to satisfy Angela’s mother. She patted his hand and turned to Angela. “Sweetheart, your brother’s coming over to fix the leak in the bathroom sink upstairs. I’m heading over to Mrs. Dodson’s. She’s finally out of the hospital, and I’d like to see her.”

Angela turned to her mother and nodded. “Give her my love. Tell her I’ll bring her over some of the roast later when it’s done.”

Her mother smiled. “She’ll like that.”

Then she quietly left the room, but no sooner had the front door closed behind her then it opened again.

“Hello, hello, hello.”

The familiar sound of Brock’s voice proceeded him into the kitchen. Two steps into the room, he froze. “Alex. What in the world brings you all the way out here? Weren’t you just here a month ago?”

Alex’s gut knotted as he watched Brock’s shocked expression. He had to admit he hadn’t thought the trip out very well. He’d had a week to stew on the fact that Angela was pregnant and the child was likely his. A week to wait for her to call him back. For his emotions to wind themselves into a knot. Anger, frustration, awe, and fear all fought for supremacy inside of him, none of which he knew what to do with.

When a week had passed and Angela still hadn’t called him, he’d hopped the first flight out of La Guardia after work that night, determined to get an answer. He’d hoped talking to her would help him make sense out of the confusing mess in his head.

He hadn’t counted on her mother being here. Or Brock for that matter.

Dammit. He wasn’t prepared to deal with his best friend yet, but it looked like he had no choice.

Alex turned to Angela. “He’s bound to find out sooner or later.”

She turned her gaze to the ground and gave a gentle shake of her head. “I just wasn’t expecting to have to tell everybody so soon. I thought I’d have time to figure out how to drop the bomb on Mom.”

Brock’s brows drew together. “Why do I feel like I missed the joke? What’s going on?”

Alex forced himself to meet his friend’s confused stare. “I came out here to see Angela.”

Brock cocked a suspicious brow. “You flew all the way out here just to see Angie?” Then a teasing grin spread across his mouth. “What am I? Chopped liver?”

Alex looked over at Angela again, asked the silent question.

She sighed, shrugged a shoulder and waved a hand at him. “Go ahead and tell him. You’re right, he’ll find out sooner or later.”

He turned back to Brock. “The baby’s mine.”

Brock let out a burst of disbelieving laughter and shook his head as he turned to Angela. “Nice joke. Seriously, who
is
the father, Ang? I didn’t even know you were seeing anybody.”

Alex folded his arms across his chest and waited. Angela turned four shades of a very becoming crimson as she stared at the floor beneath her feet. A sight that only reminded him of her cheeks flushing for another reason entirely. His mind filled with the soft, mewling sounds she’d made as her body shuddered around his. Along with the memory came an intense desire to hear her call out his name again.

It didn’t help any the way she peeked up at him from beneath those lashes, caught him watching her, stared back for a fraction of a second too long, and blushed all over again. Which only served to make him wonder if she were remembering the same exact things and had the air between them filling with wants and needs.

Angela met her brother’s gaze. “He’s telling the truth. The baby’s his.”

Brock’s gaze shot to him, the countenance of his face changing as his brows rose into his hairline. “You and Ang? Seriously?” Brock’s head turned from him to Angela and back again. “When the hell did this happen?”

Six weeks ago. Six long, aching weeks. Alex still remembered every minute detail of the time he’d spent with her. He couldn’t stop thinking about exactly how she’d ended up in her current delicate position.

“Do the math, Brock.” He turned his gaze to the ground and shook his head.

Brock was silent a moment. “I’ll be damned.”

Alex waited. Sure at any moment his friend would lose his cool. Hell, he probably deserved it. He didn’t regret one minute with Angela, but she was, after all, Brock’s little sister—which should have made her off limits. Brock...had always been very protective of her.

A good minute passed and still Brock said nothing. Finally, unable to stand it, Alex lifted his head. “That’s it? I slept with your sister and that’s all you have to say?”

Angela looked up, her brows drawing together. She stared at Alex as if he’d lost his mind. At this point he probably had, but hell, he was going for broke. If he was going to get hit, he’d just as soon get it over with. Brock had clobbered guys for a lot less over the years. Alex’s nerves were stretched to the limit.

Brock shrugged. “What do you want me to say? Congratulations? I’m still playing catch up on this one.” A sudden grin broke across his face. “I still can’t believe it. You and Angie.”

“Shouldn’t you be up my face by now?” Despite himself, Alex couldn’t stop the echoing grin from quirking up one side of his mouth.

He expected an impish retort, but Brock’s expression grew somber. He shook his head. “When was the last time you used someone up and spit her out, Alex? Like never? You’re one of the most responsible guys I know. We’ve known each other since we were kids. There’s nobody I trust more than you, except maybe Mel. Angela could certainly do worse.”

He wasn’t entirely convinced of that himself. Angela deserved a future he couldn’t give her.

Brock opened his mouth, but the shrill of his cell phone rent the air, stopping the words. He pulled his phone from his pocket, frowning at the small view screen. “That’s Mel.”

Alex turned to watch Angela. She stared at the floor, her expression somber, arms still wrapped around herself, as if she were trying to hold herself together. She had a lost, vulnerable look that made him long to take her in his arms again.

The very fact that she carried his child had created a giant bundle of ugliness deep within his chest. It had stuck there, refusing to budge, daring him to face his demons, leaving him more conflicted than he’d felt in a long time.

He wasn’t ready for another child. The raw gaping wound that had only barely begun to scar over had reopened in his chest.

The knowledge also made him feel as if somehow, by bringing another child into the world without her, he betrayed all those plans he and Karen had had of having more. Being an only child, he’d always envied Brock and Angela their relationship. It had been half the reason he’d spent more time here than at home. Here, with them, it had been like having siblings. In another life, he’d wanted dozens of kids.

Now? Now he didn’t know what the hell he wanted.

Brock snapped his phone shut, a frown etching across his forehead as he looked over at Angela. “I have to go. Braden fell off his bike and gashed his face open. Mel’s taking him to the E.R. I told her I’d meet her there.”

A worried frown etched Angela’s forehead. “Call me and let me know how he is?”

He nodded. “Will do. Congratulations, you two.”

Then he was gone, the click of the door closing behind him moments later.

Angela stiffened, her back a little too straight, her shoulders too tense. Six weeks ago they’d been as close as two people could get. Totally relaxed together. Now a chasm opened between them. It left Alex in an odd place. They hadn’t ever been close. He hadn’t paid her much attention growing up. But the sudden distance between them ate at him.

“Look.” Alex released a heavy breath, crossed the few feet separating them, and stopped in front of her. “You need to know I’m here because I want to be. I don’t shirk my responsibilities, Ang. If you’re pregnant and that baby is mine—”

She furrowed her brow, shooting him a warning glare. “It is yours.”

He shoved a hand through his hair. He was doing this all wrong. What the hell was it about her that always made him feel as if he spun out of control? “What I meant was…I’m here, Ang, and I intend to be here.”

She shook her head. “How can you be here, Alex? New York is the complete opposite side of the country.”

Damn. She had her guard firmly in place and didn’t intend on making this easy on him. Not that he could blame her.

He gave a miserable shake of his head. “I don’t know. I need time to think. Truth is, I flew out on the spur of the moment. When you refused to answer your phone, I had to see you. To see it in your eyes for myself.”

She stared at him, her gaze softening. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

And then some. Too much.

“I won’t let you do this alone. I don’t know what kind of an asshole your ex-husband was, but that’s not my style.” He took one of her hands and stroked his thumb across her knuckles, unable to resist the simple need to touch her, to connect to her. “We’ll figure this out, Ang. One day at a time.”

****

Seated on the old swing later that night, Angela turned her gaze to the opposite end of the porch. Alex leaned against the railing as he stared out into the darkness beyond the awning. The soft light beside the door cast shadows over the deck, illuminating his back and showcasing the stiff set of his shoulders. It was after midnight. The night was calm and quiet, filled only with the sounds of crickets and heat bugs chirping.

They’d come out here ten minutes ago, but so far neither of them had said anything. The instant they were alone, the air between them filled with tension. It filled
her
with wants and needs and way too many memories.

Dinner had been every bit as awkward. The evening had been filled with one too many heated glances across the dinner table, across the kitchen when he’d helped her clean up, eventually following them out into the backyard when they’d all sat around the patio table to chat. They’d talked about normal things. Work. Daily life. Weather. The chit chat had been painful. There’d been a hunger in the depths of his eyes when he looked at her that had made her ache. Subtle, like he tried to hide it, but undeniably there.

“I’ve thought about you, you know,” he said finally. “Thought about calling you a million times just to hear the sound of your voice.”

“Why didn’t you?” The longing in his tone left her with a deep need to know. She’d yearned to hear his voice, too. Seeing him standing in the doorway tonight had left her conflicted, knowing full well it was only supposed to be one brilliant night with a man who’d made her feel like a woman for the first time in her life.

“Would you even have wanted to hear from me?” he asked.

She twisted her hands together, knew she shouldn’t say it, but quietly admitted, “Very much.”

He glanced back at her, then closed the space between them, hesitated for a moment before reaching down and pulling her out of her seat. As he tugged her against his warm body, every ounce of breath left her lungs. His hand came up, his thumb caressing her lower lip. His touch was light and hesitant, as if he hadn’t been able to help himself.

He lowered his head but stopped, a hairsbreadth separating them. His mouth hovered above her, so close yet achingly far away. Frustration sang through her. She yearned to feel his lips make contact with hers, to feel his passion again.

She curled her fingers around his shirt, used the purchase to pull herself closer. “Please, Alex.”

“I want you.”

His hands slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head, tugging her imperceptibly closer. He whispered against her mouth as he brushed his lips over hers. So close they shared a single breath, his touch so light it electrified her nerve endings, made every one extra sensitive.

“God how I want you.” He pulled back enough to look at her face and brushed her hair back. “I can’t promise you forever right now. When Karen and Hailey died, it ripped my heart out. My entire world fell apart, and frankly, I’m still picking up the pieces. I can’t think beyond today at this point. I need your patience, Ang. But are you even willing to do that? Take a risk and let me learn to love all over again?”

Angela could only stare at him, confusion roiling in her stomach, caught between wanting to melt into his embrace and to push away from him. She’d been the old fashioned kind of girl once, before she’d married David. She’d wanted what all girls wanted—the white knight on a white horse. The one. The only.

Her ex-husband had shot that desire cold dead when he left her. Now she didn’t know if she was ready for another relationship. She didn’t know if she was ready to risk her heart being trampled again.

Looking up at Alex, all she knew was that she’d been so glad to see him tonight she’d nearly burst with it. She’d craved him. Suddenly there he was, standing in front of her, a powerful temptation.

“I don’t know. You’re not the only one still picking up the pieces. The ink is barely dry on my divorce, Alex, and this…” She drew her brows together, shook her head with all the confusion and misery that wound up inside of her. “This was only supposed to be one night.”

“Is it something you even want?”

Angela bit her lip. Her mind screamed at her to tell him no, but the longing in his voice pushed her over the edge. She couldn’t deny him, but she couldn’t lie to him either. “I don’t know.”

He dropped his hands from her face, slipped them around her waist instead, simply holding her close. Not pushing, but not pulling away either. “You need time.”

She braced her hands against his chest. “Please.”

Alex pressed his lips to hers in a gentle, lingering kiss. Light. Tender. Bone melting.

“That makes two of us. We’ll figure things out. One day at a time.” He stroked a hand down her cheek. “Is that okay?”

When she nodded again, Alex released her, took a step back, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Have you been to the doctor yet?”

She wrapped her arms around herself, a chill running through her at the loss of his body against her. The sudden distance left her caught between the desire to push back into his arms and knowing the time apart would allow her to put everything into perspective.

She moved to the railing that lined the front of the porch, gripping the wooden banister in her hands. “My first appointment’s Wednesday next week.”