A Redo (The Sterling Shore Series #6) (2 page)

Chapter 3

Cancun — Seven Years ago…

ALLIE

“Allie Thrash. I’ll be damned. In Cancun and drinking,” Chris says, assaulting me with his toxic breath when he stands too close.

Only in Mexico and under the influence of a lot of tequila would the captain of the football team suddenly recognize me. Small towns are terrible for having some stupid hierarchy, and I’m sure as hell on the bottom.

“Nice ass, nice tits, nice… share,” he slurs. I think he meant to say hair.

“Thanks,” I grumble, doing what I can to peel myself away from him. I never should have agreed to this stupid senior trip, but I know Bella wanted to come. She hasn’t ever been any more popular than me, but she has sure as hell blossomed and turned into a girl the guys want. Too bad she no longer wants any of them.

“Hey, Allie. Over here,” Bella calls, waving me over toward two guys who look a little older — early twenties, maybe— and I gratefully skip toward her and away from Chris Parks.

I stumble to a halt when I see the guys up close, because they’re sure as hell not from here or back home.

“Hey, these guys are from Cali — like us. This is Tag Masters and his friend Wren… Um… Sorry, I don’t know your last name.”

“Jacobs,” the guy with dark hair, soft lips, and a delicious smile says as he sticks his hand out for me. Wren Jacobs. I really like that name. I like it so much that I don’t even remember the other guy’s name at all—or how to speak, apparently, since everyone is staring at me expectantly.

“I’m Allie Thrash,” I mumble shyly, prompting his grin to grow.

“How drunk are you?” Tag asks Wren, though I don’t know why.

Wren grins at me before giving me a wink that makes my heart flutter almost too painfully. No one has ever looked at me like that. I’ve always been the foster girl who lived with Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. My identity has always been as lost as me, but right now, I feel like someone is looking at me for the first time without any judgment, pity, or discomfort. I feel… like a normal person.

“Tequila is my best friend,” Wren tells Tag, prompting the guy to laugh. Tag seems thoroughly interested in Bella, fortunately. Which leaves all of Wren’s attention focused on me.

“Want to grab a drink?” Wren asks me.

This trip finally feels like it’s worth it.

“You’re drunk. We shouldn’t do this,”
Wren says in protest, but his lips continue to stroke mine, just as his tongue returns to explore my mouth. I could kiss him all night, but I want more.

I refuse to leave here without doing this. For me. I need to feel wanted. Wren’s hands feel like medicine on burned skin, and his lips taste like heaven, saving me from hell.

“Please,” I whisper. “You’re drunk too. I swear I’m sober enough.”

Never thought I’d have to beg.

He gives me a lopsided grin while leaning back, his fingers toying with the strings on my bikini top until he pulls them free, exposing me to his hungry eyes. I’ve never felt so good about myself.

“Baby, if you really want this, I won’t refuse, but you don’t have to,” he says again, nibbling my bottom lip while grabbing my hips a little rougher.

A whimper escapes me, and my heart grows heavy in my chest, pounding as though it might escape at any moment. This is more exciting, more passionate, and far more desired than my first time where I stupidly trusted the wrong idiot with my virginity.

I’ve only known Wren for one night, but I’ve never had anyone look at me the way he does. It’s as though I’ve gotten a redo here. A fresh start. He doesn’t know me or my baggage, and he just wants
me.

“I really want to do this,” I whisper against his lips.

His grin returns, and he stands with me strapped around his waist, staggering lightly and snickering when he catches his balance. When he drops me to my hotel room bed, my grin only grows. A drunken night in Mexico – just what the doctor ordered.

Wren doesn’t waste time shedding his clothes, and I follow his lead. Instead of going with any foreplay, he pushes me up on the bed and settles between my legs.

“I’ve wanted to do this all night. Last chance to back out,” he says as he produces a condom from the pocket of his shorts that are discarded beside us on the bed, his body swaying off balance when he tries to sit back on his haunches.

I shake my head, licking my lips when I see his body fully naked and poised to take mine. Unable to look away, I watch as the rubber rolls down the hard flesh that is making me flush from head to toe.

“I want to do this,” I say in a rasp whisper.

He grins as he drops back down, putting a hand on either side of my head, and he pushes in, slowly sinking into me with a burning, stretching feel. This feels so much better than last time.

“Damn,” he murmur softly. “So good.”

I reach up to touch him just as he pulls back and thrusts forward a little harder, eliciting a moan or a whimper from me. Not sure which. I want to kiss him, but his head is back as he thrusts in harder and harder, building something inside of me like I wasn’t expecting.

I’ve had orgasms—most self-induced. But this… Something heavy is building inside me, claiming me with a power that promises I’m going to be in pain when it explodes. It takes me a minute to realize those terrible sounds are coming from me, but I can’t stop them any more than I can stop the powerful eruption that rolls through me, shocking me. My scalp tingles all the way down to my curled toes as my body grows heavy and tired.

Why the hell am I tired?

Wren grunts loudly before thrusting in once more, and I lie here panting as he slowly pulls out, smiling as he unsheathes himself from the rubber he’s wearing and stands up. He tosses it in the trashcan without a backwards glance and moves to put on his shorts again.

“What are you doing?” I ask breathlessly, wondering if my legs are ever going to stop shaking. I feel… boneless. Incredible. I feel—

“I’ve got to go find Tag. I’ve been missing for a while. I’ll catch up with you some time.”

—like someone just slapped me.

My heart sinks like a sickening rock, and I move to sit up, sure that I heard him wrong.

“You’re leaving?”

He staggers sideways, barely catching himself on the wall, proving he’s much drunker than I am.

“Yeah. Bye, Allie.”

The door shuts and a tear falls from my eyes without my consent. How could I seriously be this stupid? I knew better—fucking knew better—than to expect more, but after spending all day together, I at least expected a damn kiss after the deed was done. Or
during
.

Feeling used and exposed, I stand, only to feel something that only makes me even sicker. My thighs are much too wet, and something is trickling down my leg. I rush to the trashcan to retrieve the discarded condom. To my horror, my fears are confirmed. The end is broken, meaning…

Shit. Shit. Shit.

It takes me ten minutes to calm the hell down, but I finally convince myself that there’s no way I’m pregnant. No one gets pregnant after just one time. I’ll be fine. No worries. It was just a mistake that will
never
happen again.

Wren Jacobs will forever be my cautionary tale when I want to trust a guy too soon or do something as spontaneous and stupid as this. He’s a reminder why I keep my guard up. He won’t be the son of bitch that ruins my life.

Chapter 4

Present

WREN

“When’s Mommy coming?” Angel asks, looking up at me as though she’s bored to death.

I officially suck at being a father, because she’s always bored out of her mind when she’s here. One hour. I can’t entertain a kid for one hour?

“She’ll be here in about twenty minutes or less.”

She just stares at me while sitting on my black leather sofa, ignoring the TV where I lamely turned on cartoons. Her innocent face, soft blonde curls, and young age would deceive someone into thinking she might actually enjoy cartoons.

“Would you prefer the Discovery Channel?”

“That would be better than this,” she says while pointing to the odd show of two kids building things far too elaborate, and a nagging sister that seems to be obsessed with getting their mother to see it.

“Can I ask you something?”

She shrugs as I change the channel, keeping my distance. I’m still not sure about what I’m doing. I’ve never spent time around kids very much. And considering she’s rarely ever in my care, I’m not getting any more comfortable with her than she is with me.

“What sort of things do you like? Next time I can have stuff here for us to do. It’d have to be better than spending an hour staring at each other.”

She barely smiles while nodding. She’s so damn smart for her age, so I know she understands this fucked-up situation we’re in.

“I like cooking. Mommy and I cook together a lot. Then we watch our shows. Or movies. Basketball is my favorite to play, but I don’t have a goal at home, so we go to the park when the big kids aren’t playing on it. Mommy holds me on her shoulders so I can throw the ball in.”

Park, cooking, basketball, movies… I can do this. Well, not the cooking part.

“Basketball was the one sport I played in school. I could teach you a few things.”

Her eyes light up at the suggestion and she nods. “That would be much better than this. This is so boring.”

Brutal honesty. At least I don’t have to worry about her holding back.

“If I can get everything ready, would you be okay with me asking your mom about you spending some more time with me? We can’t get to know each other if we only spend an hour or two at a time with each other every few days. And I really want to get to know you, Angel,” I tell the six-year-old.

She thinks about it. For almost five minutes. I start worrying that she’s either ignoring my question or she has been distracted.

“Sure. As long as we do something less boring.”

I smile at her, and then the doorbell rings. Sighing, I move to go answer the door, knowing the cold face that will be on the other side.

I swing the door open, ready to put on a mask of civility no matter what she says, but to my utter horror, it’s the wrong frigid woman waiting on the other side.

“Erica,” I groan, shocked that my ex-wife would show up at all. We haven’t seen or spoken to each other in months outside of the divorce proceedings. Not since she threw a drink on me at one of Dane Sterling’s functions and loudly told the world that we were over.

“You have a kid?” she asks, her voice vibrating with fury.

Shit. Who the hell told her?

“We have to do this some other time,” I growl, knowing there’s a small little blonde who has turned to look over the back of the sofa to enjoy the wrong show.

At least she’s not bored anymore.

“No, Wren. We can do this now.”

“Erica, last I checked, we’ve signed papers saying I no longer have to tell you shi… Anything,” I say, amending the word I almost used in front of Angel.

“She’s here? Isn’t she? I want to meet her—the woman you had a kid with, when you wouldn’t even consider such a thing with your
wife
.”

I groan while running a hand through my hair. Erica doesn’t have details, and I don’t want to explain it. She has to go before Allie gets here. Knowing damn well the psycho on my porch will light into the woman who already hates me, I try to think of something to cede.

Unfortunately, there’s no time to come up with a compromise, because a blue Focus pulls up into my driveway, parking right beside Erica’s BMW.

When Allie steps out, her shoulder-length, blonde hair catches in the wind, making it whip around softly. She’s in her nursing scrubs as she makes her way down my sidewalk, her eyes narrowing as she silently takes in the scene.

Why can’t I catch a fucking break?

It’s been a few months since I learned about my child, and Allie still hasn’t warmed up to me. Not that I can blame her.

“Is that her?” Erica growls.

“Erica, I’m only saying this once more; get the hell out of here or I’m calling the cops,” I threaten in a key that is barely above a whisper.

“Call them. I deserve answers, Wren. You owe me that.”

I don’t owe her a motherfucking thing, but I’m desperate to make her leave. “Fine. You want to know, then keep your mouth shut and I’ll tell you everything after they leave. Go wait in your car.”

She glares at me, but she doesn’t argue. Her eyes burn against Allie the whole time she walks back to her car, but Allie barely offers her a passing glance, because her glare is centered on me. She reaches me just as Erica slams the door to her car, sulking in the driver’s seat as she impatiently waits.

“Lover scorned?” Allie drawls, sounding deceptively calm.

“Ex-wife. She just showed up a second ago. I didn’t invite her or let her in, so no rules have been broken. Our daughter has still not been introduced to any women, other than my friends.”

Not that I’m dating anyone. Christ, I feel like I’m sixteen again with all this angst locked inside me.

She doesn’t speak for a minute, but she finally glances over her shoulder to see Erica still glowering this way.

“Is she waiting on me to leave?”

“The only way I could get her out of here without causing a scene was to promise to talk to her after you left. The last thing I need is another mark against me, especially since you and I need to discuss something.”

“What can we possibly have to discuss?” she asks idly, looking bored and disinterested.

Why do I even try? Oh yeah. Because I’m the dick that knocked her up almost seven years ago, and didn’t even give her my real name.

“Angel. I want to start spending more time with her. I’m never going to get to know her on this schedule.”

“I’d have introduced the two of you sooner, had I known your real name.”

Saw that one coming.

“I realize that. But I can’t redeem myself with an hour every few days. I need more time than that. You’re working at the hospital, logging several extra hours a week—”

“To provide for my child,” she interrupts.

“But you could be working less. Angel could be staying with me while you work, and I could be providing you with child support so you don’t have to work over. I think I’ve proven I’m trustworthy, and the money is for Angel. Not for you. I understand you don’t want a dime from me, but this is owed to her.”

She glances over her shoulder again, then she moves to step inside the house. I step back, giving her plenty of space so I don’t get frostbite in the case she accidentally touches me.

“Not a porch conversation,” she murmurs while walking in, moving toward the sweet girl on the sofa who is generously feigning interest in the television and pretending as though she isn’t listening to every word we’re saying.

“Hey, sweetie,” Allie says while bending down, leaning over the sofa.

Scrubs aren’t supposed to look good on an ass, but I find myself biting back a groan.

My eyes dart up immediately. No way in hell should my mind be wandering there… again.

“Hey, Mommy. Do you know some penguins mate for life?”

I choke on air as Allie chuckles, and I shut the door, wondering if maybe the Discovery Channel was a bad idea. Are they showing
how
they mate? Christ. Nothing is safe anymore.

“I did. Mommy and Wren are going out back to discuss something. Will you be okay in here for a minute?”

She nods while moving her eyes toward me and smiling. I can’t help but smile back. Allie motions for me to follow her, which I do. But then I quickly turn around and lock the door.

“Don’t let anyone in,” I whisper to Angel on the way by.

“Don’t worry. I don’t like your ex, so I won’t answer the door.”

I just snicker, until I see Allie glaring at me. I don’t think we were talking loud enough to be heard, but I swallow like a scolded child and follow her outside in silence.

We reach the gated, outdoor patio, and she takes a seat at one of the tables. The tiled top is warmed by the sun, despite the slight chill in the air, and I rest my elbows on top while keeping my silence.

Allie’s light jacket makes me smile, because the less skin she shows, the better. The last thing I need is to let her know how she affects me, considering she’d probably slap the hell out of me for daring to think of her like that.

“So, you really want to keep her more, and you think you could manage that with your hectic schedule?”

Right to the point. No foreplay whatsoever. I also notice that the money issue is still being avoided as opposed to getting addressed. She’s going to get my damn money whether she likes it or not—including back child support.

“Yes. I know I can. Most of the things I do are things I can do from home. I’m more of a silent partner in the majority of my businesses. I can do this, Allie. The companies I run for my mother are actually handled by others. I just make the big decisions, which I do through conference calls usually.”

The mention of my mother makes the image of Ray Drivel in a pink robe flash into my mind, and I fight hard not to grimace and give Allie the impression that it’s meant for her.

She sits quietly for a minute, but then she blows out a breath—defeated or defiant breath… not sure which. “I have no reason to try and stop you. You’ve done everything almost perfect since you met her. I’ll send you a school schedule. She has to be picked up from school, or you have to fill out a form for the bus to drop her off here.”

“I don’t mind picking her up,” I say quickly, uncaring about how eager I sound.

“Don’t be late. I’ll send you all the information. I’ll email you a pickup schedule. If you really want to, you can start picking her up on Tuesdays and keep her until close to bedtime. You’ll have to make sure she’s showered, fed, and ready to go when I come to pick her up. You can also get her on the days that I have to work over. It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen.”

I want to jump up and down or fist pump the air, but I remain calm and collected. This is the first time she’s had a conversation for longer than a few minutes since the day she ran over me in the market—the day I found out I had a child and had royally fucked over this woman so many years ago.

“What about nights? I know you have to go in early a lot of mornings, so I could keep her on those nights.”

Her body tenses at the mention of that. Damn. Pushed too far.

“Let’s slow this down. I ceded a huge chunk of time. You’ve been patient, and you’ve done as well as you said you would. But I’m not ready for her to spend the night. Bella and I live together, so she stays with her those mornings. We adjust our schedules so she can help out. But usually my schedule is pretty stable.”

Bella hates me just as much as Allie hates me. Fortunately, I’ve only had to see her a couple of times.

“Okay. I’ll take what I can get.”

She stares at me for a long time, to the point I start to grow uncomfortable, but she finally looks away, moving her gaze to the door. When the doorbell starts ringing over and over, a small smile curls up on her lips.

“Should Angel and I sneak out the back?”

I groan while glaring at the door. “I might sneak out with you.”

For the first time, I hear her laugh. And it’s a beautiful, melodious sound reserved for the special. It’s so perfect that I almost hate her for having it.

“Send Angel out here, and we’ll wait until it’s safe to sneak around the edge,” she says.

I smirk while nodding. “The code is Angel’s birthday—month, day, year. Just press it at the side exit. Otherwise you’ll be trapped out here until Erica leaves. Unless you want to help me out?”

It’s a lame joke, but I’m sincerely hoping to hear her laugh again. But when I look at her, her expression has changed.

“Angel’s birthday is the code?” she asks in a hushed tone, probably worried about someone overhearing.

“Yeah. I changed it about three weeks ago. I had to give the inside a more complicated code, considering anyone could figure that out, but I should probably give it to you in case you need it. I’ll give you all my codes and extra keys for all my places when I drop her off next time.”

She swallows hard, but only acknowledges my words with a slight nod of her head. This is the longest we’ve spoken since we reunited. It’s definitely the least angst I’ve ever felt after talking to her. I usually feel like I need a muscle relaxant once she leaves.