I drop the phone, hearing it shatter against the sidewalk, and it isn’t until I’m sitting in Axel’s truck while he speeds down the interstate that I realize those terrifying wails I hear are coming from me.
CHAPTER 8
Melissa
Two Hours Earlier
I hate that Greg won’t be with me for the shower. I know he said that he would try his best, but knowing why he got called in is making me crazier. Or I should say who is behind the reason he was called in. Everyone knows how that terrible Mrs. Hutchins is. She has her sights on all the men at Corps Security. I wouldn’t even be shocked if she has tried to get some action from openly gay Davey. Greg’s told me over and over how frustrating she is, and I know he’ll be there longer than he wishes.
I don’t pretend to understand why they keep her on as a client, but I trust my husband, so I’ll give him the support he needs, even if I wish he were by my side right now.
I pull up to the intersection, adjusting my belt so that it doesn’t keep digging into my belly, and take a deep breath. It doesn’t do me any good to stress over a situation I can’t control. I know it’s my hormones making me insane. Seriously, I know that Greg doesn’t have any interest in a baby shower. Hell, if I weren’t the one with enough emotional crazy rushing through my veins right now, I would probably laugh at a husband being dragged to a shower for his pregnant wife. I know he doesn’t care; he’s just doing this because I want him there.
“Mommy, will I get presents too?”
I look away from the light a few cars ahead of me, still red, before looking up and focusing on Cohen’s reflection in my rearview mirror.
I smile from just looking at his messy brown hair a few weeks past due for a cut, tousled just the way Greg’s always is these days. His brown eyes, always bright with unshed energy, and that crooked smile never fail to melt my heart. I instantly want to start sobbing with the strength of my love for this little guy.
“Mommy, your face looks funny like it does when you cry. Are you going to cry? I don’t have to get presents. I can wait till my birthday if you forgot them. Will Aunt Izzy have cake? I like leopards. Can we get my girls some leopards to match their sheets in their beds?” His smile gets bigger and he shakes his head rapidly.
“I love you, you know that?” I ask, smiling at him one more time before returning my eyes to the road when I see the light turn green.
“I know. I’m awesome.”
“Yes, you sure are.” I laugh, waiting for the car in front of me to go. I swear, traffic is a mess today. Apparently everyone and their mothers have somewhere they have to be.
“Can we buy a boat? I hope Aunt Izzy got a big cake. I’m going to eat it all up and get big like Maddox Locke.”
“Cohen, you are so silly. Why don’t you just call him Maddox?” Cohen’s been calling Maddox by his full name for so long now that it’s almost slipped out from my own lips a few times. Everyone thinks it’s the cutest thing ever, but honestly, it’s just another weird little piece of Cohen logic that helps make him the coolest kid around.
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Because Maddox Locke is cooler, and it makes me smile. Maddox Locke is funny. He told me that one day I’m going to be a big boy and I need to watch how Daddy acts so that I can be the bestest man in the whole world, just like Daddy. He says it’s the key to being a superhero. Maddox Locke keeps his secrets all locked up. He told me that. But sometimes he unlocks his secrets and tells me some. So he’s my Maddox Locke.”
I have to take my eyes off the road and look at him. I’ve never noticed him and Maddox having conversations long enough for all that. Maddox is, for the most part, quiet and pensive. I’ve always known that he holds some deep pain, and while it’s no secret with the girls that he’s got a seriously secret soft side, this is the first I’ve heard of him and Cohen bonding like this.
“You know, he might be onto something there.”
“I know.”
I smile, focusing my attention back on the road when we finally start making some progress through the intersection that’s been backed up for a while now.
“Uh, they need to do something about all this traffic,” I mutter under my breath. They’ve been working on this intersection for what seems like years. The light that was a last-ditch effort to relieve some of the congestion seems to be making it worse. No one pays attention to anything.
Right when I’m about to cross over the intersection, I hear a loud horn followed by Cohen’s scream in the backseat. Checking the car in front of me, seeing that it’s a good distance ahead, I don’t even get my eyes to the rearview to check the one following before I see it.