As I pulled into a parking stall in front of a newer, brick apartment building, my hands clenched the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. My body was already tense, sensing her nearness and begging to be inside her again. I climbed out of the SUV, my heart thumping, and I vaguely wondered if it was as loud to others as it was in my head.
I locked the car and approached the building equally as eager as I was anxious, but predominantly, determined. Her apartment was on the second floor, up a set of stairs and down a covered, outdoor walkway. Each residence had their own entry directly to the outside, rather than being in an enclosed building.
Coming to a halt in front of a shiny black door with 212 painted in gold, I took a deep breath in and a slow exhale out. Then I knocked on the door.
Half a beat later, I heard rustling on the other side and then the click of the lock sliding out of the mechanism. This time, I held my breath as the door swung open. The oxygen locked in my lungs the moment I finally laid eyes on my woman. Damn, she was even more fucking stunning than I remembered. My eyes drank her in, starting at her bare feet and pale pink painted toes, up and up, over every luscious curve, until I was once again gazing into deep brown eyes. Eyes filled with shock and her rosy lips forming a little O.
My lungs finally released and I stepped forward, dragging her into my arms and kissing the fuck out of her. She went lax, sinking into me, and I took advantage of her open mouth to sweep my tongue inside. She tasted like sugar and her scent wrapped itself around me, reminding me of tart apples and cinnamon.
"I missed you so fucking much, beautiful," I mumbled against her lips.
Her hands were clutching my biceps, then slid up, over my shoulders and down to rest on my chest. I was just about to swing her up into my embrace when suddenly, she shoved me hard. Caught off guard, I stumbled backward, but regained my senses rapidly enough to slam my hand against the door as she attempted to swing it shut. What the fuck?
Thick, heavy silence hung between us, our eyes glued to each other in a stare down. Finally, I'd had enough and I gripped her arms, lifting her out of my way before crossing the threshold and slamming the door behind me. She gasped and her beautiful face twisted with anger.
Almost frantically, she spun around but froze, seemingly listening for something. The room opened into a kitchen just behind her, but her attention appeared to be on the entrance to a hallway off to the side. Was there someone back there? Murderous rage burned in my veins. If there was, he better be climbing out the fucking window or he was going to find himself being booked into hospital as a woman after I tore his balls off.
When there was no sound, she pivoted back to face me. "What the hell are you doing here, Weston?" she ground out.
I started towards her, backing her up until she was up against a wall and my body caged her in. "Is there someone back there, Aspen?" I asked with deadly calm. "Did you offer up what's mine to someone else?"
She sputtered indignantly, "What? Of course not-what do you mean yours? You gave up your claim on me, you jerk!"
I believed her, but she was dead fucking wrong if she thought I didn't still own her. "I don't know what the fuck happened after I left, Aspen, but I know what we had was real. I'm here for you and I'm not letting you get away."
She peered up at me with confusion, then shook her head and fury returned to her expression. "You can't throw me away and then just show up expecting me to fall back into bed with you. I'm not a booty call, Weston, and my circumstances have changed drastically. Arbitrary weekends of fucking aren't a luxury I can indulge in."
Throw her away? What the fuck?
"That was a hell of a lot more than a weekend of casual fucking and you know it," I growled, leaning in close and wrapping my hands around her hips. I opened my mouth to say more when the air was rent with the sound of a baby's cry.
Aspen stiffened and shoved at me again, like last time, I was startled and teetered back a few inches. Enough for her to slip past me and hurry down the dark hallway. It couldn't be . . . right? Curiosity had me following her into a bedroom painted in a soft blue, with white furniture, including a crib, with a mobile of circus animals. As if that weren't alarming enough, she was standing next to it cuddling an infant to her chest.
I could tell right away it was her son, they had the same nose and mouth. She'd had a baby? She'd said she hadn't been with anyone else. Had she lied and really moved on? In my desperate and devastated state, I almost missed the fact that the child had dark hair and was peering at me from her arms with striking green eyes. Eerily similar . . . holy fuck. This was my kid.
"You had my baby?" I croaked. There were so many emotions weighing down on me, I felt almost dizzy. But at the forefront of my mind was wrath. "Were you ever going to tell me?"
Chapter 2
Aspen
I wanted nothing more than to stomp over to Weston and punch him right in his sexy face. The nerve of the man, to accuse me like that after ignoring all my emails. It was only the squirming bundle of joy in my arms which held me back from attacking him. It wasn't the right time or place for a confrontation, even though I was filled with righteous indignation and pure, unadulterated fury.
Turning away from him, I hummed to my baby boy, completely ignoring the man standing in the nursery doorway. I counted to twenty in my head as I got him situated on the changing table and unsnapped his onesie. A bright smile and delightful giggle were the reward for my patience as I tickled his belly.
I felt the warmth of Weston's body against my back, but I refused to look up at him. Not yet. "I need to get him changed and fed before he shouts the house down. He's not very patient when he's hungry, but he loves to go into his baby swing after. Once he's settled, we can talk about your ridiculous accusation and where the heck you've been for the last year."
"Aspen-"
"No," I cut him off. "I refuse to do this in front of Carter."
"You named him Carter?" There was awe in Weston's tone, and it made my eyes well up with tears.
Macy had insisted I was a pushover for naming my baby after his daddy's father, even though he'd pulled a complete disappearing act on me. At the time, it had felt like the only thing I could do to give my son a connection to his daddy. "Yes," I choked out. "His name is Carter Davis Kennedy."
"Carter Davis"-his tone switched from one of wonder to a snarl as he repeated the last word-"Kennedy."
"I said, not in front of the baby," I bit out as I snapped his onesie back up again and dropped his soiled diaper into the bin next to the changing table. "I'd prefer if you wait in the living room, anyway. He needs to be fed."
"No fucking way am I leaving this room, Aspen." I felt his eyes on me as I made my way to the rocking chair in the corner of the room. "I've missed three months of my baby's life. I'm not willing to miss another moment. Let me help feed him."
A deep flush crept up my chest and towards my face. "There isn't anything for you to help with because he doesn't take a bottle."
"Then I guess you'd better get used to breastfeeding him in front of me, sweetheart," he rumbled. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
"I'm not doing this with you in here," I snapped.
He stalked towards me and nudged me into the chair by my shoulders, bending down to stroke Carter's cheek. "It's not like I haven't seen your tits before, Aspen." His gaze dropped lower and heated. "Although, I should have noticed the size difference right away. You've gone up at least a cup since I had my mouth all over them while you screamed my name."
"Weston! Not in front of Carter," I gasped, and then mumbled to myself. "And it's more like two cup sizes, not that you'll ever have the chance to touch them again."
"Don't bet your sweet ass on that," he whispered in my ear. Rising up again, he prowled towards the door. "Women breastfeed in public all the time. You've got two minutes to figure something out while I get you a glass of water."
Then he strolled out of the nursery like he owned the place. "Why, oh why, did I have to fall for such a conceited, arrogant man? Can you tell Mommy that?" I muttered while I lifted my shirt, unbuttoned the flap on my nursing bra, and pulled a blanket over Carter's head while he latched on like the greedy little boy he was at feeding time.
I'd barely gotten the blanket in place when Weston returned. He placed the glass of water he'd gotten me on the table next to the rocking chair and dropped down onto the floor to sit, with his legs stretched out, directly in front of me. He was so damn tall, he practically took up all the floor space in the room.
"I don't understand how this happened," he mused absently, obviously not aware he'd spoken the thought out loud.
I shrugged. "Condoms don't always work." My tone was defensive, miffed that he might be blaming me for getting pregnant.
His lips twitched before he pressed them into a thin line, as though he was suppressing a smile and my eyes narrowed in suspicion. He had no right to be happy about that after ignoring the consequences of it for so long.
"When was he born?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Three months ago tomorrow."
His eyes lit with excitement as they drifted down to the blanketed head of our son. "A milestone to celebrate."