Gentleman Nine(57)



She nodded against my chest. “I am. This is good news.”

“Yeah, I suppose it is. It wasn’t the right time.”

She pulled back and placed her hands over my cheeks. “We would’ve had a beautiful baby with you as the father, though.”

“Only if she looked like you.”

Amber brightened. “She?”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “I might have imagined a little girl who looked like you once or twice over the past couple of weeks.”

“That’s sweet.” Her eyes widened. “You know what I’m excited about?”

“What?”

“Getting to have a glass of wine tonight. I hadn’t been drinking just in case.”

I placed a firm kiss on her lips then nudged my head. “Come on. I’ll open a new bottle for us.”

We returned to the kitchen to find an unsettling discovery. My mother was sitting at the table with the entire tray of magic bars in front of her. She hadn’t cut them but rather had eaten three-quarters of the batch. Under any other circumstances, this might have even been funny. But given her situation, it wasn’t. It was sad. This was the kind of unpredictable behavior I’d become accustomed to.

I felt ashamed. “I’m so sorry.”

Amber rubbed my shoulder. “It’s okay.”

“Really fucking need that wine right now,” I said, making my way over to the bottle of red on the counter.

After dinner, Mom turned in early—probably crashed because of all the sugar she’d consumed.

Amber and I stayed up late watching movies. I was incredibly horny, but it had been a long and emotional day, and I suspected she might not have been in the mood.

Her phone, which was in the bedroom, chimed. It was unusual that she would get a text so late at night.

She got up to check it and seemed to take a long time before finally returning to her spot next to me on the couch.

“Everything okay?”

A flush crept up her face. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

She didn’t look fine, but I blew it off, chalking it up to a grueling day.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE




* * *



AMBER




I’d hung onto Rory’s text for two days before I finally responded. He wanted to meet me somewhere to talk, but I didn’t feel like I could handle it.

After everything…what could he possibly have to say?

I responded that I would think about a time and place, but that was only to delay what turned out to be inevitable. That lesson was learned the hard way as my doorbell rang one early evening after work.

Channing wasn’t home yet, and Christine was in her room watching television when I went to the door.

When I opened, Rory was standing there, and he’d brought our golden retriever, Bruiser. Before I acknowledged him, I bent down to let Bruiser lick my face. Tears started to fall from my eyes from the guilt I’d felt over having abandoned my dog. Seeing Bruiser hadn’t been an option without having to see Rory, too. So, it had been several months since I’d smelled his fur and experienced his unconditional love.

“Bruisey...I missed you so much. So much.”

Bruiser suddenly started to bark like crazy when he caught a glimpse of Kitty, who had planted herself high atop a shelf. Poor little thing was probably scared shitless at the sight of what may have been the first dog she’d ever seen.

I finally looked up at Rory. My heart hurt from just the sight of his face. It had been a really long time since I’d seen him, yet the wounds of his abandonment still felt fresh.

Rory looked good, like he’d been working out every day. Sporting a five o’clock shadow, he appeared more rugged than ever.

“Why are you here?”

“Well, you weren’t exactly responding to my request to see you, so…”

“That was intentional.”

“I know. I’m not blaming you.”

“What is it that you needed to say to me?”

“I have a lot to say. I just don’t know where to begin.” Moving past me without permission, he wiped his forehead. “Do you mind if I have a glass of water?”

Without waiting for me to answer, Rory made his way over to the kitchen and the water filter on the counter then poured himself a tall glass. As he gulped it down in a matter of seconds, I could definitely see that he was nervous.

Glancing down at his hand, I noticed a small tattoo of a little bean. “Bean” had always been his nickname for me. He started using it one day when we were in college and never stopped. He never had that tattoo when we were together; it must have been new.

“Did you get a bean tattoo?”

His eyes bore into mine. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to think of you every time I looked down at my hand.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know. But it will. That’s why I’m here. To better explain.”

What’s going on?

Bruiser hadn’t left my side. I sat down to grab my bearings, and he immediately followed me. Scratching between the dog’s ears, I gave Rory my attention, even though I wasn’t sure if he deserved it, but not before taking a dig at him.

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