The Anchor (15 page)

My mind is running a thousand miles a minute. I’m still in shock, I think. I’m a man, I’m going to take care of my kid and if Nikki will let me, I’ll take care of her, too. But yes, deep inside, my inner self is running around like a mad person screaming,
What the fuck?
A kid? I open a few cabinets until I find the glasses and pull one out. Turning to the fridge, I reach out for the handle, but my attention is caught by a long picture, with several images on it, on the freezer door. Images from an ultrasound.

Taking it, I lean against the counter and scan the black and gray images, my heart thundering in my chest. There it is. My child. It exists. The fear I’m feeling takes a backseat as my heart seems to swell, brimming with sentiment in my chest.

“I’m only ten weeks. We can find out at twenty weeks what it is. Sixteen, if we’re lucky.” She’s standing at the counter, leaning against it, chewing her bottom lip as she watches me stare at the pictures of our baby.

“Do you want to find out?” I ask, my voice husky with emotion.

She shrugs. “Kind of.”

I allow myself to be lost in my thoughts for a beat longer before I realize she needs her drink. “Hey, sit down. I’ll get that drink.” As I busy myself with pouring her beverage, she slides onto a barstool by the counter. When I hand her the glass, she takes a long, slow sip and smacks her lips afterward.

“This stuff is saving my life these days.”

“Has the morning sickness been bad?”

“Yeah, but only first thing after I wake up. It fades pretty quickly,” she says, before taking another sip. My eyes fall over her body. Her robe is open a little up top and the curves of her breasts are on display.

“You perv,” she laughs, jerking my attention to her face. “You just found out you’re going to be a father and you’re getting horny.”

I chuckle. “I can’t help it. You have amazing tits, Nikki.” Rounding the counter, I twist her in her seat so that I’m standing between her legs. She looks up at me, her blue eyes full of uncertainty. “Tell me right now that you don’t want me,” I rasp. “Tell me that our times together haven’t been amazing and that they’ve meant nothing. No matter what you say, I’ll be here for the baby. I’m not a douche bag. I’ll take care of what’s mine. But I think we owe ourselves a chance to see if this can work between us.”

“Parker, I—”

“Nikki,” I stop her. “I’ve thought about you every fucking day for months. I’ve called, texted, Facebooked. I’m happy for our best friends, I wanted to be here to celebrate with them, but the one thing I looked forward to the most was seeing you. I want you. I know you’re scared . . . I know you have things in your past that make you scared to trust men, but let me prove to you I’m not like most men.”

Her breath comes out in a long whoosh as her eyes glisten with tears. “I’m really scared,” she cries softly.

“I am too,” I tell her as I take her face in my hands and brush away a tear with my thumb. And it’s the truth.

“How . . . how would we even try Parker? You live so far away.”

Sighing, I scratch at my day-old beard. “I don’t have all the answers, Nikki. But we will figure this out. I promise. Just . . . give us a chance, okay? Don’t run from me anymore.”

“This is crazy.” She wipes at her face. “We barely know each other.”

“Then let’s get to know each other. What are your plans today?” Her head whips up and her eyes go wide. “What?”

“Shit!” she shrieks as she slides off the stool and runs to her bedroom.

“Damn,” I exclaim. She must be getting sick again. I run after her into her bedroom, but she’s not in the bathroom like I thought she’d be. The doors to her walk-in closet are opened and I can see her inside yanking a dress off a hanger.

“You need to be somewhere?”

Tossing the dress on the bed, she rushes back inside the closet and comes out with a pair of sexy-as-fuck heels. “I’m having lunch with my father. I’m going to tell him.”

Her eyes won’t meet mine and she looks so pale I fear she might faint. I grab her and turn her, forcing her to sit on the bed. “You need to calm down,” I tell her.

“Are you telling me what to do?” she snaps.

My brows furrow with her mood swing. “Yes,” I answer simply.

She takes a deep breath and moves her gaze to the ceiling. “He’s going to be pissed.”

“And you’re scared?”

“Yes,” she admits as her shoulders slump. “I rarely see him and I hate that I have to bring him news he won’t want to hear. He has this ability to make me feel like a stupid child and telling him I’m pregnant and unwed is going to fuel his fire.”

“Then I’m going with you,” I tell her and turn to leave the bedroom.

“You’ll what?” she shrieks as she stands.

“This is our baby . . . I’m the father. I should be there.”

“No, Parker . . . you don’t understand . . .”

“I understand perfectly. I’ll get changed.”

“In to what?”

“My bags are by the door.” Clearly she didn’t notice them when I came in. Once I entered her door I had no intention of leaving.

There are few times in my life where I can say I was honestly scared shitless, but telling my father I’m pregnant will come second to actually finding out that I was pregnant.

Parker drove my Audi into town while I try not to hyperventilate in the passenger seat. His free hand rests on my thigh and squeezed it every so often; I supposed it is his way of offering me reassurance. Looking at him, he doesn’t seem nervous at all.

Once we reach the restaurant, we’re quickly seated and Parker asks the server to bring me a ginger ale and some saltines. It’s something so little, but so thoughtful I just want to kiss him for it. I need time to digest our earlier conversation. He wants to try a relationship between us and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I don’t want a man to be with me just because I’m carrying his child. But all of these thoughts must take a back burner until I get through this lunch with my father.

My stomach is a wreck; not sure if it’s morning sickness or anxiety, but either way, the saltines Parker ordered for me are helping some.

After I nibble on two crackers, Parker takes my hand in his firm one, his gaze meeting mine. “I’m here for you, Nikki. No matter what your father says, no matter how this goes, I’m your anchor. I’ll hold you steady.”

I nod several times and squeeze his hand. His words mean more to me than he will ever know. I try to bask in the comfort Parker is offering, but the air suddenly changes and I tense. I can sense my father as he enters the restaurant. Preston Reese owns a plastics conglomerate. He possesses multiple companies that specialize in plastic production from Tupperware to military pieces used for storage and weaponry. My father’s net worth would cause some people to buckle at the knees. Even I don’t know the full extent of his worth, but I do know he sees money as power.

As he nears our table, he slows, his eyes scanning over Parker until they fall to where Parker’s and my hand are joined and resting on the table. I quickly stand and Parker follows suit. Rounding the table, I plaster on my best smile and say, “Father. It’s good to see you.” I kiss him on the cheek, our usual cold and familiar greeting, and step back allowing Parker to enter our space.

“This is Parker Hayes. He’s my . . .” Shit. What is he? Fuck buddy wouldn’t work. Baby daddy might not be the best to open with either.

“Boyfriend,” Parker answers for me and I nearly choke on my own spit. Is that what we are now? Our earlier conversation has already labeled us as boyfriend and girlfriend in his mind? I don’t have time to get lost in my panic attack because the
always suave
Parker Hayes reaches for my father’s hand to shake it.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Reese. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

My father cuts his eyes to me with a look that says,
Who is this putz?
But he reaches his hand out and takes Parker’s. “I wish I could say the same about you, son.” My father, the class A dick, as usual.

Parker releases his hand and quickly wraps a hand around my waist and yanks me to him. “Well, it’s good we finally get to meet.”

We all take our seats; Parker pulls my chair out for me before taking his own. My father orders a Scotch and Parker orders the same. I would literally give my left ovary at this moment if I could drink. A strong whiskey might really ease my nerves.

“So,” my father begins. “Is this why you asked to meet? So I could meet your . . .” he blinks several times as if the thought humors him, “boyfriend?”

I already hate her father. He’s an arrogant dick. And I really fucking hate how the moment he sauntered into the restaurant, she froze up. I’ve had a thing for Nikki since the day I met her. Once I had her, I knew I wanted her. And now that she’s carrying my child, no one will fuck with her. Not even her own father.

“That was part of it,” Nikki says, before shakily sipping her ginger ale.

“Well, let’s get on with it,” her father says, motioning his hand haphazardly.

Nikki clears her throat and takes a deep breath. Under the table, I find her thigh and squeeze it, letting her know it will be okay, that I’m here for her.

After a beat she raises her chin almost defiantly and pulls her shoulders back.
That’s my girl.
“I’m pregnant.” There’s certainly no sugarcoating the truth and she didn’t even try. I kind of love her for that. She may be scared shitless, but she won’t cower because of it.

Her father leans back in his chair, his eyes moving between us. “And I assume this young man is the father?” And he snickers.

My anger peaks. “This young man is right in front of you,” I grumble, “and my name is Parker. And to answer your question, yes,
I
am the father.”

“I know—”

“Know what, Nikki?” her father interrupts. “What do you know?” he asks condescendingly. “Clearly neither of you knows how to use birth control.” His words are like a metaphorical slap, causing Nikki to flinch. His voice has heightened and patrons from other tables surrounding us glance in our direction. Nikki’s sitting stiff as a board, her hands knotted together in her lap. I need to try and calm down so I can get her father to do the same. She doesn’t need this stress.