Capturing Peace (8 page)

I breathed a sigh of relief and pressed my mouth to hers twice before backing up enough to look into her eyes. “I’m sorry for cov—”

“Don’t, I know why you did,” she said as understanding crossed her face. “But I wouldn’t stop you from doing that even if he wasn’t here.”

My face fell, and somehow, impossibly, I was ready to go again. “You will be the death of me, Reagan Hudson, I have no doubt of that.”

She smiled and leaned up to capture my lips with hers before pulling me down with her. “Then I’ll just have to be careful with you,” she said as she bit down on my bottom lip.

Smirking, I moved to brush my nose along her jaw. “I wouldn’t go that far, Duchess.”

Reagan—
September 3, 2010

M
Y EYELIDS SLO
WLY
blinked open, and for a second my body froze. The feel of a heavy arm draped over my waist, a body pressed against my back, and a nose barely grazing the back of my neck wasn’t something I’d ever had before. Even with Austin. And once the initial shock of having someone in my bed wore off, and trying to wake up enough to figure out who it was before I started screaming that there was some creeper in my bed, I lay there trying to memorize the way this felt.

I’d never felt as safe, wanted, or perfectly happy as I did in that moment.

When I remembered last night, a smile tugged at my lips and I curled my body deeper into Coen’s arms. His fingers tightened against my stomach, and his nose rubbed against the back of my neck before his lips gently followed.

My smile widened and I moved my hands behind me to run them over his buzzed head. “Good morning.”

“Mo—wait, what time is it?” his gruff voice asked.

“Uh, about 5:30?”

Coen was silent for so long that I rolled over so I was now on his chest, and looking into his wide eyes.

“What’s wrong—I thought we’d agreed you were staying . . . ?”

“It’s five thirty?”

I just nodded. I didn’t understand why he was looking at me like he was. Like I’d just given him the most amazing gift. If anything, I thought he’d be mad I’d woken him up so early.

“Coen . . .”

He huffed and he flashed a quick smile. “I slept,” he replied, and shrugged.

“Uh, yeah?”

Shaking his head quickly, he smiled at me and cupped my face in his hands before kissing me thoroughly. “That was the best sleep I’ve had in . . . in years.”

I smiled against his lips and kissed him again. “Really?”

“Yeah, Reagan. Really.”

I kind of wanted to say something like “best sleep ever,” but just then Coen began teasing my tongue with his own, and all thoughts of actual conversation died.

Positioning myself better so I was fully on top of him, I spread my legs slowly until my knees were pressed against the mattress and I was straddling him. Coen growled into my mouth when his hardening cock pressed against my core, and I rocked myself against him—craving the feel of him.

“Reagan,” he said my name in warning. “You’re loud.”

I smiled. “And you know how to shut me up.”

The sound of approval in his chest had my insides heating faster. Gripping my hips, he moved me up and slowly slid me back down his length as he asked, “How long until Parker wakes up?”

I whimpered, and it took Coen asking me again before I finally responded. “An hour,” I said breathily.

“Perfect.”

I
SMILED AGAINST
Coen’s kiss almost an hour later as he passed me to pick his shirt up off the floor and pull it over his head. My eyes followed the shirt as it covered up his lean muscles and tattoos, and I frowned now that he was fully clothed.

“Keep looking at me like that, Duchess, and I’m taking you back to bed,” he said huskily, his eyes never once meeting mine.

After last night, and then again in the bed and shower this morning, there should be no way I could even think about that. Just once with him, after six and a half years without anyone, had left me aching in the most amazing way. But even still, a heat started deep in my stomach and my arms were covered in goose bumps as a shiver worked its way up my spine.

Coen looked over at me before doing a double take. A smirk tugged at his lips as he walked over to me to brush a kiss against my neck. “Your son is going to wake up. As much as I want to spend all day with you . . .
in
you . . . it’s time to get dressed.”

From the deep laugh that burst from his chest when he moved away, I’m pretty sure I was pouting like a three-year-old. Picking up the shirt I’d dropped as I’d watched him dress, I put it on and thought of something for the first time since I’d asked Coen to stay the night.

“Parker . . .”

Coen raised an eyebrow at me and looked toward the door for a second. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“No, I just . . . I didn’t think about this.”

Understanding washed over his face. “About him waking up, and me being here . . . in the same clothes?”

I nodded and bit down on the inside of my cheek. “But I doubt he’d notice your clothes. If he had it his way, he’d wear the same thing every day of the year.”

Coen smiled and walked closer to me. Holding out his hand, he waited until I put my hand in his before pulling me toward him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Reagan, but I think it’s way too early for him to find me here in the morning. Too soon for him, too soon for our relationship . . .”

“Good!” I blew out a relieved breath and moved so I was pressed against his chest. “I think it is too. I’m happy you stayed last night, and if you ever want to, I want you to stay again. But I don’t think Parker should know that yet.”

His dark eyes showed just how glad he was that we were both on the same page with this. “So, should I leave through the window or . . .” he teased, and kissed me quickly when I laughed and pushed against his chest.

“We’ll just have to be quiet,” I whispered, and winked at him as I led him from my bedroom and through the hallway. When we got to my front door, I looked up into his dark eyes and was already wishing for another night with him. “Thank you for staying.”

That look was back. Like I’d just given him the most amazing gift. I didn’t understand it. But if I got kisses like the one he gave me just then every time he looked at me like that, then I’d want to get that look all the time. “Thank
you
,” he said softly when the kiss ended. “Have a good day, Reagan.”

“You too.” I watched him walk out to his car, and as soon as he was in it, shut the door and tried to school my expression before waking up Parker.

Walking into his room, I smiled when I found him starfished on his stomach, his temporary tattoo on display.

“Wake up, honey,” I crooned softly as I rubbed his back. “Parker, wake up.”

He rolled his head to the side and looked up at me sleepily.

“Morning.”

“Hi, Mom.” He did a weird little wave before gasping and sitting up on his knees and looking around.

“What’s wrong?”

“Where’s Coen?”

My body froze. Had he heard us?
Oh God.
My stomach filled with dread at that thought. “He’s at his house, baby.”

When Parker looked at me again, he was disappointed. “Oh.”

I licked my lips quickly and had to look away for a second as I tried to compose myself. “Why did you think he’d be here?”

Parker shrugged and looked down at his lap as he mumbled something.

“Don’t mumble.”

“He’s gonna come back, right?”

I smiled at my son, and was so glad he liked Coen just as much as I did. “Of course he is.”

Parker’s face lit up and he bounced up and down. “Is he gonna be my dad?!”

“What?” I managed to choke out.

It felt like all the air had left my body. I wasn’t sure I remembered how to even pull more into my body.
Breathe, Reagan, breathe. How do I breathe?!

“Why would you ask that?” I tried to keep the horror from my tone, but I knew I hadn’t succeeded. Parker didn’t seem to notice either way. He still looked beyond excited.

“Because Jason has a dad, and he said everyone has a dad. But I don’t. Uncle Keegan’s my uncle. And Grandpa is my grandpa. And I like Coen. So can Coen be my dad, Mom?”

“Um . . .”
Is twenty-two too early to start having hot flashes?
“Parker—”

“I’m going to ask him if I can start calling him ‘Dad’ next time I see him!”

Parker jumped off his bed and began running around the room as he tore off the shirt he’d slept in, and threw it on the bed.

“Parker, baby, I need you to understand something.” I waited for him to stop running around and look at me until I spoke again. “Coen can’t just start
being
your dad, do you understand?”

His forehead scrunched together like he was trying really hard to.

I wasn’t about to explain adoption to him, so I skipped to something easier. “If Coen and Mommy got married, then Coen would be your dad.”

Parker laughed. “Okay, Mom! You can marry him, because he’s going to be my dad!” He held up an imaginary light saber—sounds and all—and started using it as he ran out of his room. “Can we have waffles?” he yelled from down the hall.

“Oh God,” I groaned, and dropped my face into my hands.

I thought back to Coen’s words and my blood ran cold.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Reagan, but I think it’s way too early for him to find me here in the morning. Too soon for him, too soon for our relationship . . .”

Of course all this was too soon. Too soon. Too soon. And if Parker told Coen that he wanted Coen to be his dad . . . this was too soon for
me
!

Oh Jesus.
I jumped up from Parker’s bed and ran to the guest bathroom as my body mercilessly tried to throw up anything. Dry heaves continued to torment my body for minutes until my stomach calmed, and I sat back to find Parker standing there looking scared.

“I’m fine.”

He nodded, but just kept staring at me.

“See? All better.” I smiled and stood from my spot on the floor to reassure him, and finally he nodded hard twice.

“Yeah, well, when Coen’s my dad he can make sure you’re better.”

My stomach churned again. “Buddy. You—I don’t think you should tell Coen that you want him to be your dad.”

“No, its okay, Mom. He wants to be.” Grabbing my hand, he pulled me out of the bathroom. “Come on, I’ll make you waffles so you’ll be better.”

He couldn’t make waffles. And I wasn’t sure if I could eat. But I loved my son, and I loved his heart. I was just terrified of what his wants for Coen in our lives was going to
actually
do to Coen in our lives.

Chapter Seven

Reagan—
September 3, 2010

I
GLANCED A
NXIOUSLY
over to my left, as I had so many times this morning, and tried not to lose what little breakfast I’d managed to eat when I saw Coen running in this direction off in the distance. I hadn’t told Coen we would be here, I’d just hoped he would have called if he was going to show up. Looking back at the playground, I easily found where Parker and Jason were playing together and tried to stay focused on them instead of seeming like I was avoiding Coen.

Which I was.

“Morning,” he said through heavy breaths as he came to a stop near me.

“Mmm” was my only response as I tried not to eye him standing there.

“Um . . . are you just going to act like you can’t see me now?” he asked a couple minutes later when I still hadn’t said anything to him.

I turned toward him, my eyebrows bunching together. “I said good morning, didn’t I?”

He laughed hard once and eyed me curiously. “Are you okay?”

I huffed and turned to face the playground again. “I’m making sure Parker’s safe.”

“Hmm . . .” Coen mused next to me. “Sitting on the concrete playing with figurines. That’s some dangerous shit right there.”

“Language, Coen.” I groaned and rolled my eyes as I faced him again. “And like we’ve declared, you don’t have kids, so you don’t know how fast something can go wrong.”

“Coen!”

We both turned at Parker’s voice and Coen braced himself just in time for Parker to launch himself at Coen. “What’s up, bud?”

“Did you come to play?”

“Not today, I was just on a run and thought I’d come say hi. Are you having fun?”

“Yeah!” Parker said excitedly and threw his arm straight out in front of him and pointed at the temporary tattoo. “And everyone thinks I’m the coolest because I’m just like you now.”

Coen’s smile widened and he held up his fist for Parker to hit it. “You do look pretty cool, bud. I’m not gonna lie. If it stays on through next week, you’ll be the coolest first grader too.”

My chest warmed watching them interact, and I felt my lips spread into the most ridiculous smile. Remembering this morning, the smile quickly fell from my face and I crossed my arms over my chest—as if that could ward off the warmth I felt watching them together.

“Are you coming over again soon?”

Coen shrugged and nodded toward me. “I don’t know, that’s up to your mom.”

“Mom, can Coen come over again?”

Looking over at me, Coen lowered his voice so Parker couldn’t hear him. “Yeah, Reagan . . . can I come over again?”

I didn’t miss the suggestive tone in his question, and just as I was about to give him a look telling him to cool it in front of Parker, he started wrapping his arm around my waist, and I jumped away from him. Coen’s arm fell, as did his expression before confusion settled over his face.

“Uh, we’ll see, honey. Why don’t you go back to playing with Jason . . . unless you’re ready to leave?”

“No, Mom, please? Can we stay longer?”

I just nodded and smiled until he turned and ran back to where Jason was still sitting, and sighed in relief—knowing we’d gotten through a conversation without Parker mentioning the dad thing.

“Hey,” Coen said softly, and reached for my hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Stop,” I hissed, and moved away from him.

Coen looked at me in shock, his mouth slightly open as he tried to find the words to say. “Rea—”

“You can’t just touch me like that in front of Parker,” I whispered, and looked around to see if anyone was near us.

Coen’s eyebrows shot up, and he blinked slowly at me. “You’re . . . you’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not. He’ll start getting used to seeing that, and I don’t want him to.”

“Are you—I don’t fucking understand where all this is coming from, Reagan. Just last night I kissed you in front of him. Fuck,
you
kissed
me
in front of him. You were lying in my arms in front of him while we watched the movie. And now all of a sudden I can’t put my arm around you? I can’t hold your damn hand? Something I did the first night we all hung out together? What has changed since last night that I don’t know about?”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, and focused on Parker instead of Coen. “I just think that all of this is too much. You spending time with us, being around Parker, him getting used to you . . .”

He laughed and ran a hand over his head, but there was an edge to the laugh. He knew I was shutting him out, and from the look in his eyes, he was terrified. “Isn’t that the point? For him to get used to me? For him to get to know me? For me to get to know him? All of this as a part of wanting to be with his mom?”

Locking my jaw when I saw his confused and hurt expression, I tried to find the will to say what was needed, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Tell me what happened. Tell me what that mind of yours is scaring you with now, Reagan. Because I went to your apartment for the first time last night, something I know you don’t let anyone do. I spent time making dinner and watching a movie with you and your son.” Coen closed the distance between us and gritted, “When he went to sleep, I was buried so deep inside you I had to keep my hand over your fucking mouth so he wouldn’t hear you screaming.”

“Coen!” I scolded, and searched wildly to make sure no one could hear us.

“You begged me to stay with you, and last night was the best. Night. Of my damn life. You and I both agreed Parker seeing me in the morning was too soon. And I’ve only been gone from you for four hours. So, tell me. What am I missing?”

“I just realized that all of this was too much. Okay? It’s all going too fast for me, and I’m not ready for this. I never wanted a relationship; or have you already forgotten that? I don’t want you in our life, Coen.”

Coen’s body went rigid, and his mouth slowly opened as he stared at me. “Bullshit,” he breathed.

I felt sick. But I needed to do this now. I needed to do this before we got more attached and he ran, and I had no doubt, especially if he heard Parker calling him “Dad”, he would run. “I’m sorry, Coen.”

He shook his head back and forth as he continued to watch me. Glancing over at Parker, his forehead pinched together and a sadness fell over his features before they hardened and he looked back at me. “Hope I was a good distraction for you, Reagan.”

A huff of air blew past my lips. It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach, but I couldn’t stop him from leaving.
This needs to be done. The sooner the better. You’re doing the right thing for Parker.

Without another word, Coen turned and started running back toward his condo, and my chest ached. How had this man fallen into our lives, and so quickly embedded himself in my son’s and my heart? Looking back at Parker, I continued to chant to myself that I’d done the right thing, but nothing about what had just happened, or the loss I currently felt, felt like the right thing.

“K
EE
GAN, PLEASE BE
home,” I whispered to myself as I knocked on the door of his apartment a few hours later.

“Where are we?”

Glancing down at Parker, I tried to smile and keep my tone light as I said, “Uncle Keegan’s new apartment.”

“All right! I get to show him how I’m just like Coen now!” he said excitedly, and looked down at his arm, and I bit down on my cheek to stop the agonized cry from leaving me.

“Keegan,” I groaned, and knocked harder.

“Ray, what the—hey, little man!” Keegan sent me a hard look before smiling down at Parker and holding his hand up for Parker to slap.

“Is Erica here?” I asked anxiously.

“Uh . . . yeah?”

“Can she watch Parker while I talk to you?”

“Uh, Ray—”

“Hey, Parker!” Erica came around Keegan and held out her hand for Parker. “Come hang out with me for a little bit.”

“Look what Coen gave me!” Parker said and held out his arm.

Erica and Keegan shared a look before Erica smiled at him again. “That’s awesome! Come tell me all about it, okay?”

I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, and waited until Erica and Parker rounded the corner on the left before I looked at Keegan and broke down. “I’m freaking out! I don’t know what to do, I was—I said a lot to Coen to make him think I didn’t want to be with him. I know he was hurt, and it killed me, but—oh, God, Keegan . . . I couldn’t do it.” I took deep breaths in and out and walked into the living room to drop onto the couch. “He’d leave someday. I know he would. And Parker was falling so in love with him. You should see them together! They’ve barely spent any time together, and already they’re so close.”

“Reagan—”

“He came over last night, and it was perfect. The three of us, the whole thing, it was perfect,” I choked out. My throat felt like it was closing up, but I refused to start crying over this now. I was afraid once I started crying, I wouldn’t stop. “But this morning when I woke Parker up, he asked if Coen was going to be his dad.”

Keegan’s eyes widened and his eyebrows rose. “Uh . . .”

I moved my hands frantically in front of me as I tried to get him to understand the enormity of that. “Two nights together. Two, Keegan. Well, three I guess if you count the dinner when you got out. But that’s beside the point. Three nights, and he asked if Coen was going to be his dad. And he sounded like he wanted it, you know?”

“Seriously, Ray—”

“Then, you know what he told me? He told me the next time he saw Coen, he was going to ask if he could
call
him ‘Dad.’ I know Coen would eventually leave, and I’ve been protecting Parker and me from that for years . . . but I kept letting myself hope that maybe somehow it would be different because for the first time I actually wanted to be with someone. But after this morning? Well, honestly, it kinda scared the shit out of me how fast all this progressed. But the more I thought about it, the more it felt right for Coen and me. But I knew—I just knew if Parker said that to him it would scare Coen away. And I wouldn’t know how to explain to Parker that he wasn’t the reason Coen wasn’t coming around anymore.” I knew I was rambling, but I couldn’t stop. I needed to ramble. I needed to freak out to my big brother so I wouldn’t lose it while I was alone with Parker later. “I don’t know if Parker is old enough to understand all of this yet. God, I feel sick. I hated saying that to Coen. I just don’t know, Keegan. But I couldn’t risk him running away from us—”

“So instead you pushed me away?”

I shot up off the couch and turned around to see Coen standing in Keegan’s kitchen, his face livid.

“Oh God,” I whispered, and placed a hand on my sensitive stomach. I was going to throw up . . . or faint. I just couldn’t figure out which.

“Instead of letting it all play out . . . instead of letting me
surprise
you, you took all that away from me. You made my decision for me because you were so sure I would leave when I heard that?”

“It hasn’t even been two weeks, Coen! Not even two weeks with Parker and he wants you to be his dad. You can’t tell me that doesn’t freak you out.”

He laughed and lifted his hands in the air before letting them drop to his sides. “Well, according to you, that’s exactly what it does. It freaks me out and makes me want to run.”

“What twenty-four-year-old wants to suddenly become a father to a six-year-old?” I argued, and flung my arm in the direction of the room Parker and Erica were in.

Coen’s eyebrows slammed down and his eyes narrowed. “I can’t think of many,” he said darkly before walking to the back of the couch and resting his hands on the top of it. “But tell me this. What guy goes into a relationship with a single mother and
doesn’t
factor her kid into that relationship?”

Crossing my arms, I met his dark stare and laughed humorlessly. “A lot, actually.”

“Yeah. A lot of assholes who don’t care about the most important thing in their girlfriend’s life. And if that’s how you view me, then you were right to end this,” he said, and waved his hand between us. “Because that means you don’t know me at all. Well, apparently you do since you knew without a doubt I would run away from you,” he sneered.

“And you’re telling me you wouldn’t? You’re telling me one day you wouldn’t leave?” I nearly yelled, and covered my mouth when I realized that I was. Looking back over to Keegan, I realized he wasn’t in the room anymore and I wasn’t sure if I was glad for that or not.

“I don’t know, Reagan. People date, they break up. Others date and get married. Who knows what would’ve happened between us?”

“That’s it!” I flung my hand out toward him before bringing it back to rub at my forehead. “That’s exactly it. There is a very real possibility that we would’ve broken up anyway, and Parker was getting too attached as it was. If I had let our relationship go on, only for it to end months or years down the road . . . it would crush him. This is why I don’t let men into our lives.”

“No, it’s because you’re fucking scared!” he yelled, and I jumped back. “I get not wanting to have a bunch of guys coming in and out of his life. I get that, and I think you’re right in not wanting that for him. But you’re not giving yourself the chance to be with someone, and you’re not giving Parker the chance to ever have a dad because the first guy in six years who you’ll give the time of day, you push away after only a couple weeks.”

“I’m protecting him!” I gritted out.

“Yeah, you’re protecting him. There are also people who put their kids in plastic bubbles because they don’t want them to get sick. Are you gonna do that too?”

“Do not belittle me for the way I am living and have raised my son!”

The anger slowly left Coen’s face, leaving only pain. “You’re an amazing mom. There’s no questioning that,” he said gruffly as he rounded the couch and walked toward me until he had me backed up against a wall. “But you’re scared of getting hurt, and you’re terrified Parker will get hurt as the result. I get it. I swear to God I get it.”

I shook my head and tried to steady my quivering jaw. He couldn’t understand. No one—unless they were in my situation—could understand.