At First Touch (The Malone Brothers) (14 page)

“Thank you, sir,” Eric stated in a low voice. “I’m sorry, sir. This comes as a complete surprise.”

His captain clapped him on the shoulder. “It always does, son.”

Eric walked in a daze as he grabbed his personal gear bag from the locker room, and it was a damn good thing his coworkers kept their mouths shut. No one said a word as he walked out and met Celeste back in the front entry.

“Come on,” he said as calmly as he could.

She turned, managed her way to the big potted fern in the corner and pulled out her suitcase. Eric walked over and took it, held the door and they walked out.

“Are we going to your family’s home?” Celeste asked. “I’ve been dying to meet them all this time.”

Inside Eric’s head was a massive cobweb, and he couldn’t think straight at all. What he did know, though, was that he wasn’t showing up to the river house with a pregnant Celeste. Especially with Reagan right next door.

Reagan
.

Jesus, just thinking her name nearly knocked the wind out of his lungs.

“Are you okay?” she asked, waddling behind him.

“No,” he answered. When they reached his truck, he set her suitcase in the bed, then walked around to the passenger side and stopped.

“I’m not trying to be an ass here, Celeste, but this—” he waved his hand “—why didn’t you call? Why did you just...show up? Like this?” He waved his hand again and shook his head. “You ended things, remember? Told me it was over, you didn’t want to marry me. You didn’t want to move to some Podunk ocean town in Carolina, far away from your friends. Do you remember that? You broke our marriage off because you didn’t want to move here with me and start a new life. And now you’re here.”

Her eyes grew round and glassy. “But...”

He opened his mouth to speak again, but shook his head instead and held up his hand to hopefully stop any words she might have. “I won’t do this here. I won’t do it at my family’s home, either.” He gauged her reaction, and it was that of surprise, as if she had no clue why he was so upset. “I’m taking you to a hotel, down by the beach. Order you some supper. Then I need some time to think this out.” He breathed hard, and looked at her. “How could you keep something this big from me, for so long?”

She opened her mouth to protest—he remembered the expression well, and back then, he’d actually thought it was cute. He merely shook his head. “Don’t. This was not fair of you, Celeste. And I’m being as kind and gentlemanly as I can possibly be right now. Trust me.”

Reaching around her, he opened the door, she climbed in, and he closed it behind her. At the driver’s side, he paused. Breathed.

How could this be happening? How in the hell?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

N
EITHER
SAID
A
word while Eric drove over the marsh, down the two-lane road that went over the big bridge and entered Cassabaw Station. The tension was so thick in the truck he could have sliced it. His mind shot every single way it could, trying to figure out this mess. Why hadn’t she called before now? Why show up now, full-blown pregnant, to announce to him, at his job,
Congratulations! You’re going to be a daddy!
Who did that?

Obviously, Celeste did.

He pulled into the Oyster Pearl, a nice family-run inn where he knew Celeste would be comfortable, and didn’t say a word when he jumped out and stepped into the reception area. Luckily, he didn’t know the clerk well enough to carry on a conversation. Paying for a room for three nights—he’d worry about everything after that later—he took the key card, said good-night to the clerk and went back outside to collect Celeste and her bag and escort her to the room.

Once he let her inside, turned the lights on and set the bag on the spare bed, he turned to her. “Do you have any money, Celeste?”

“A little,” she confessed.

When they’d broken up, she was in dental hygiene school. He wasn’t going to ask her about that now. Maybe never.

“Pizza? Seafood? Burgers?” he asked.

“Oh, a pizza sounds good,” she said cheerfully.

He had Joe’s Italiano and Pizzeria on speed dial, so he called and placed an order for a large pepperoni pie and two bottles of soda. Once he gave the room number and address, he hung up, rubbed his neck and drew another deep breath.

“Why haven’t you called before now?” he asked.
One question at a time
, he thought.
And only the bare necessities tonight.
He couldn’t take much more than that.

“Well,” she said, and set on the end of the bed. Her belly was huge—she had to be close to full term. On her feet were a pair of flip-flops, and her ankles were swollen. “We’d broken up, and I knew I had destroyed you, Eric. I didn’t want you to think I was using pregnancy to get you back.”

“Why now? You look full term.”

“Three more weeks to go,” she said, rubbing her belly. “Guilt, I suppose. I didn’t think it was fair for you to have a son and not know about him.”

A son.

Son.

Another word his brain wouldn’t wrap around. He’d always wanted a son. And a daughter. Lots of both. Last he’d checked, Celeste wasn’t too big on having many kids at all.

He ran his hand through his hair once more and took a deep breath. Let it out. “Rest tonight. Eat. Watch TV. They have a nice breakfast in the dining room in the morning. I...have to wrap my head around all of this.”

“I understand,” she said. “Thanks for the room and pizza, Eric. Will I see you tomorrow?”

He glanced at her. “I’ll call you.”

Without another word, Eric left.

The drive home was hell. By the time he pulled into the drive, he felt like he’d fallen into a damned ant bed. They were crawling from the inside out, and he knew then he had to go blow off steam. Jogging into the house, he noticed that his dad and Nathan were out, probably shrimping, and after a quick glance outside he saw Jep’s white hair down by the dock.

Running upstairs, he threw his gear bag on the bed, yanked off his clothes, threw on some running shorts, a T-shirt and running shoes, and took off.

Eric ran until his lungs burned, ran the two-lane road all the way to the Coast Guard station and back, then down to the lighthouse and fort before heading back home. His insides felt raw he’d run so hard, but the ants crawling under his skin were gone. He jogged up the lane, glancing in the direction of Reagan’s house, and his heart sank once more.

Jesus Christ. What was he going to do?

When he made it to the front porch, Jep was in his rocker.

“Is your ass on fire, boy?” he asked. “What are you running so damn hard for?”

Eric wanted to tell Jep right then. But he didn’t want to have to repeat everything to his dad and brothers. “Where’s Dad and Nate?”

“Out buying prom dresses,” he grumbled. “Where do you think they are?” Jep leaned forward and stopped rocking, peering at Eric closely. “Something wrong with you, son? You look like shit.”

Eric rubbed his eye sockets. “Feel like it, too.” He rose. “I’m going to take a shower, Jep.” Without another word, he left his grandfather on the porch, grumbling to himself.

In the shower, Eric turned the water to scalding and just stood beneath it, hoping the pounding jets would make things in his mind a little clearer. They didn’t. He just couldn’t understand how his life had been perfect just a few hours before.

Celeste’s return would change everything.

He had a son on the way.

He bowed his head and let the water pound the back of his neck. Finally he turned the water off, dried and threw on a pair of Coast Guard shorts and a T-shirt, and jogged downstairs. He found Nathan and his dad with Jep on the floating dock. To his surprise, Matt was there, too. Throwing on his old Converses, he jogged down to meet them.

“Whoa, suave, what’s shackalackin’?” Nathan asked with a grin.

Eric folded his arms over his chest, scratched the back of his head and glanced at the setting sun. “I need to talk to you.” When his dad and Matt looked his way, he met all of their gazes, including Jep’s. “All of you.”

Everyone took a chair on the dock, and as the sun set, Eric told them about his unexpected visitor at the station.

“Lord have mercy, son,” Owen finally said. He took his cap off, scratched his head then looked at Eric. Said nothing, then shook his head.

“Are you positive the baby’s yours? I mean, why wouldn’t any of your Guard mates have told you about the pregnancy?” Matt spoke up.

Eric rubbed his jaw. “Celeste lived in the next town over from the station. She didn’t exactly run in their circles. Besides. It’d be a pretty damn low thing to do if he wasn’t.” He rose, shook his head, put his hands on his hips and stared out across the water. He wondered, though. She’d acted so carefree at the station earlier. As if his acceptance would come instantaneously. “She seems so excited,” he said. “I guess she expects me to be, too. Instead...” He shook his head again. “I feel like my life just hit a wall.” His family was silent behind him. His heart felt crushed, like a hole was there. A bigger hole than Celeste had made before. Now his heart was being ripped in half, and part of it, he knew, belonged to Reagan.

“You have some decisions to make, son, that’s for sure,” Owen said quietly. “I know I don’t have to tell you to do right by her and that child. No matter if your heart’s no longer there, you have to be there. For both of them.”

Eric nodded. “I know, Dad. I know.”

“I’d still get a paternity test,” Nathan added. “Matt’s right. You need to be sure before you flip your life upside down for this girl.”

“You need to do right by that gal next door, too,” Jep grumbled. “This is a damn fine mess, that’s for sure.”

“Dad,” Owen said. “He knows it is.”

Nathan walked over and draped an arm over Eric’s shoulders. “Get the test, bro,” he stated again. He slapped his back. “We’re here for you, no matter what.”

Eric nodded. “I know. Thanks.” Without another word he moved to the side of the dock, jumped into the small aluminum boat he and Reagan had just taken crabbing recently, and loosened the rope from the dock cleat. He started the motor.

“Where you off to, son?” Owen asked.

Eric didn’t look at his father. “Need to think, Dad.”

“Well, be safe, then,” he said.

Without another word, Eric pulled away from the dock and headed downriver, the walls of dusk turning to shadows.

* * *

“W
HAT
DO
YOU
THINK
?” Reagan asked Emily.

Emily let out a squeaky gasp. “Oh, my gosh! Reagan! It’s... No words to describe. Beautiful!” Reagan felt her sister lean close to her neck, looking over her shoulder at the large canvas she’d just finished. “Tell me that’s you and Eric.”

Reagan laughed. “Yeah, it is, the night we rode the Ferris wheel,” she answered. “He described the entire scene to me, just like this. I’d hoped it would turn out perfect.”

“Trust me, it did,” Emily said, kissing her cheek. “You’re amazing, sister.”

Reagan smiled, and pride surged within her. To actually feel...useful again, doing something that mattered, or that brought someone joy. It had changed her blind life forever. Tons of ideas had begun to form in her mind, images she remembered from the past, or images described to her by Eric, or even images she imagined. Like the morning she and Eric had gone crabbing. She could see his dark form at the back of the boat pulling crab lines up, and the dark shadowy forms of the mossy live oak trees on the tiny island close by. Later, she’d envisioned all of that and put it together in a sketch, in her mind. It was...refreshing, to have so many new ideas. Every morning she awakened excited. To start a new project. Like this morning.

“Okay, Sissy, I’m off,” Emily said, leaving the gallery. “I’ll see you this afternoon!”

“Bye—oh, I might not be here,” Reagan called back, and smiled. “Eric’s picking me up.”

“Splendid! See ya...whenever!”

Reagan listened to her sister scurry around, then close the front door. Now the second week into September, it was still warm but not air-sucking hot, and although it was probably mostly in her mind, she kind of felt fall coming on. She sat on her stool, the newly finished painting before her, and although she could see only the darker figures she’d created, she felt the image was just as she’d experienced it.

“Reagan?”

Startled, she jumped, then grinned. “Malone! You scared me!”

“Sorry,” he said. “Can I come in?”

Immediately, Reagan noticed a change in his usually light mood. His tone was somber. It left the air heavy, dark.

“Sure, it’s open,” she said, and then his form came into view as he moved up the veranda steps and opened the door. “Is something wrong?” she asked. Her heart sank. She didn’t know why, but it dropped straight from her chest to her stomach.

“Wow, Reagan,” he said next to her. “That’s us, in the Ferris wheel. It’s...just like that night was. Surreal.”

Again, his voice sounded melancholy. Dismal. And when he took her hand, his fingers entwined with hers and he squeezed. “Come sit with me?”

“Okay,” Reagan said, and stood, and the familiar feel of Eric’s hand to her lower back as he led her to the glider made her heart plummet more. They sat, and she didn’t say a word. Just waited. Eric held both of her hands in his, and finally he took a deep breath, let it out and spoke.

“My ex-fiancée showed up at the station yesterday,” he said quietly. “Reagan, she’s pregnant. Due in three weeks.”

It felt as though someone had slammed right into her chest. At a loss for words, she just sat there, trying to breathe. Take in his words. Try to control her hands from shaking.

“I’ve been up all night trying to figure out what to do,” he said gently. “And the only thing there is for me to do is to be with her, Reagan. Try to make things work, for our son. I’m...having a son.” His voice caught, and he cleared his throat. “I have to do right by them, Reagan. I have to try to do the right thing. And I didn’t want to drag this out any longer. You...deserve better than that.” His fingers squeezed hers. “I’m sorry, Reagan. More than you know.”

Reagan felt tears welling in her eyes, and she turned her head and nodded. “I understand, I do,” she said, and her voice broke.

Eric pulled his hand free of hers and caught the tears on her cheek. “Reagan,” he said softly, then swore under his breath even softer. “I don’t know what else to do. I’m not a hundred percent positive the baby is even mine, but the timing is right. I suspect it to be true. Either way—” he breathed heavily “—she’s here. She’s pregnant. And I feel an obligation to care for her.”

Reagan grasped his hand and held it to her cheek. “There’s nothing else you can do, except what you’re doing, Eric.” She drew a deep breath, slipped her hand around his neck, pulled him to her, pressed her lips against his and kissed him softly. His breath caught, and although just a sound to Reagan, it sounded full of anguish. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think it was a sob. “I’ll be okay,” she said. “You should go.”

He was still for a moment, not moving, not speaking. Then he brushed her cheeks with his thumbs, pressed the pads of his fingertips to her lips.

Rising, he let himself out of the gallery.

Reagan sat there, stunned, and listened as Eric Malone’s footsteps faded away, leaving only the cicadas and marsh birds and wind behind. She listened to the sounds for quite some time, could hear the water lapping at the marsh’s edge. Far off, a boat motor puttered through the creek.

Emotions ripped through her, so many at once she didn’t know which one to address first. She needed some air, to clear her head, perhaps. Figure things out, if it was possible.

Grabbing her walking stick, she pushed out of the gallery and made her way to the dock, crossed over the marsh, and at the floater, she kicked her shoes off, sat and let her feet sink into the tepid water. Lifting her face to the sky, she felt the early-morning sun against her skin, and then just as fast, it would fade. When she opened her eyes, she could vaguely make out dark clouds overhead, shifting in and out of the sun’s cast. Although she listened, there was no distant rumble of thunder. Maybe that would come later on.

She could use a good storm about now.