• • •
“Shit, man, I never thought I’d see the day.” Braydon shook his head, the beer bottle suspended halfway to his mouth all but forgotten. He stared at me, a look of surprise etched into his features, like I’d grown a second head. But I guess that’s what happened when you told your best friend you were thinking of popping the question.
He was right, I’d never wanted to commit, never wanted to have someone in my life—until now. I used to love my life—coming and going as I pleased, jetting off to exotic cities, adding stamps to my passport, and not having to answer to anyone, except maybe Fiona. Now it all seemed so incredibly empty. And dull. And meaningless. I wanted more. And having Emmy by my side provided a certain comfort, a feeling of being loved and cared for that I had never known was missing. God, I sounded pathetic. If I actually said these things out loud, Braydon would probably tell me to grow a pair. And rightly so. I needed to have my man card checked. But shit, love made a person do crazy things. And I wanted to put a big old diamond on my baby’s finger, see her eyes light up, and take her to the bedroom to make love to her slowly, to make her understand that she was mine forever.
He took a slug from his beer. “Ben mother-fuckin’ Shaw settling down, committing to one woman, just one pussy to sink into for all of eternity. Damn, bro.”
I shot him an angry scowl. His words were meant to scare me but they had the opposite effect. Knowing Emmy would be mine for the rest of forever sounded pretty fucking perfect to me. Although I hated knowing he’d been inside her, too. He knew just how perfect and sweet she was. The thought didn’t sit well with me. I downed the shot of bourbon and held up the empty shot glass, signaling the bartender for another.
“Although it is Emmy. Shit, if she looked at me like she does you, I’d probably be getting down on one knee, too,” Braydon said, looking contemplative.
“Yeah, right.” We both knew Braydon preferred his single life way too much to make a commitment like that. His one serious girlfriend fucked him up pretty royally, too, so I didn’t see him jumping on the relationship train anytime soon.
“Wipe that angry-ass look off your face. I’m happy for you, man.”
“Thanks,” I bit out.
“Can I be best man?”
“You promise not to talk about my future wife’s pussy ever again?”
A lopsided grin lifted his mouth and he chewed on his lip as if deciding whether he could live with my request. I slugged his shoulder and the grin disappeared in a damn hurry. “Ouch. Fuck, man, you’re touchy.” He rubbed his shoulder. “She’s all yours. You have nothing to worry about. That girl is crazy in love with you, too.”
I smiled, knowing he was right. Emmy was perfect. And soon she would be mine. Forever.
• • •
It took me a moment to place the voice on the other end of the phone. Her broken sobs made it nearly impossible to make out what she was saying. “Fiona? Is that you?”
“Y-yes,” she cried, heaving a breath inward.
“What happened? Is the baby okay?”
“Fine. The baby’s fine.” She quieted for a moment, seeming to pull herself together, because when she spoke again, her voice was much clearer. “The results came back.”
My stomach sunk like a stone. “Okay . . . that’s a good thing, right?” It was time to face the music.
“I suppose so.”
“What’s it say, Fiona?” I held my breath, waiting, while my heart jackhammered against my ribs.
“It’s not yours, love.” Her voice went whisper soft like she was breaking the news to me gently.
My fist pumped in the air, but I held back the shout of joy I wanted to let trip. “Wow. So your last fertility treatment must have worked, then?”
“Seems so,” she said, her voice full of melancholy.
“How do you feel?”
“Shocked. Surprised. I really thought it was yours. And I’d gotten over thinking that you and I were going to be together, but I thought I’d always have this little piece of you. . . .”
We each remained quiet for a few moments, letting the weight of this information sink in.
“Fiona?”
“Yes, love?”
“I need to ask something of you.”
“Anything.”
“I need you to let me go, to release me from my contract early. I’m leaving Status to work for myself.”
She hesitated briefly, releasing a heavy sigh. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is,” I confirmed.
“Then I’ll tear up the contract. Consider it my gift to you for five loyal years.”