At First Touch (The Malone Brothers) (15 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

R
EAGAN
HAD
NO
idea how long she’d sat at the end of the dock. At least a few hours before the storm rolled in. And when the rain fell too hard, she moved to the tin-roofed dock house, curled up on the daybed there and let the sound of the rain pounding the tin soothe her. She thought about...everything. Every single moment she’d had with Eric. Every laugh. Every kiss. And how she’d felt when they’d made love. No, they hadn’t told each other they were in love, but she admitted only to herself that she felt it. Yeah, she tried to talk herself out of it, and more than once. It scared the hell out of her. But she was in love with him, all right. And if she were completely honest, he was more than likely in love with her, too. Yet he’d been fast to break things off with her and return to Celeste, regardless of her pregnant state. There were other options, weren’t there? Why did he have to break up their newly found relationship? She understood, but didn’t. And it hurt. Hurt like hell.

When she really sat and thought about it, though, what could she have successfully brought to a relationship? Had theirs advanced to marriage, could she, as a blind woman, give him the large family he so desperately wanted? How could she care for babies if she was blind? She was positive it’d been done before, but it completely baffled her, now that she thought hard enough about it.

Maybe this was the best thing after all.

It didn’t make things less painful.

But now, just like her accident, Unexpected Life stepped in and took control.

Reagan cried; she was unable to help it. Her heart hurt. Ached, as if someone had punched her there. Already she missed Eric. Missed his company, his teasing, his laughter. His touch. His had been the first touch she’d allowed in, well, forever. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel it. Could feel him beside her. His voice in her ear. His hand entwined with hers. His mouth tasting her lips as if thirsting to death.

See me.

Those words he’d spoken to her as he’d guided her hands to his face would never, ever leave her memory. She had seen him. And she’d fallen hard for him.

And now he was no longer hers.

And he couldn’t call her
my baby girl
anymore.

Just when Reagan thought she had drained all of her tears, she surprised herself and spilled some more. Thunder cracked overhead, and her sobs were instantly drowned out by Mother Nature.

She couldn’t be angry at Eric. He’d been awarded with the surprise of his life: a son. Eric was going to be a father, and he’d had zero preparation. Up popped his ex-fiancée with the news, and that was that. Many men would have probably done the typical thing: child support, parental visits on weekends and such. Instead, one of his finer qualities had won over his desires: honor. He wanted to try to make things work, for the baby’s sake. How could she hold that against him?

Wiping her eyes with the heels of her hands, she inhaled the scent of river brine and fresh rain. She couldn’t hold it against him. Not at all.

It didn’t mean her heart wasn’t breaking in half.

She glanced out of the screened-in dock house, straining her eyes, willing to make out more than just dark objects. She still got frustrated; she’d be lying to say otherwise. Yet she had a lot to be thankful for. She’d found her independence. She was painting again. It brought her joy, something to really live for. And she had Eric Malone, and technically her sister, to thank for that. It was a big deal. Huge. It somehow made her life almost complete.

Her biggest concern at present was, how long was her heart going to hurt? She could neither help nor stop that, and somewhere in the back of that ripped-up heart was the one fact that she’d share with no one, because it made her feel about as selfish as she possibly could.

Eric chose her over me.

See? Beyond selfish. Hopefully, she’d never think it again.

“Reagan? Are you out there?”

Emily’s voice carried over the river, and she thought it best to respond, before her sister called in a missing person report.

“I am,” Reagan replied.

Emily’s footsteps hurried over the wooden dock, and then the door to the dock house creaked open. “There you are,” she said, and came over and curled up next to her. “Matt told me what happened. Honey, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” Reagan agreed. “It really sucks. But Eric did the right thing, Em. Really.” She squeezed her sister’s hand. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

Emily dropped her head onto Reagan’s shoulder, and they sat there huddled in the dock house, just like they had as kids. “Remember sitting out here during summer storms and pretending our Barbie dolls were on a deserted island?” Emily said softly.

Reagan smiled. “I do. And we’d tie string to their legs and toss them into the water so they could spearfish for supper,” she recalled. “Fun times.”

“Are you okay? Really?” Emily finally asked. “I know Eric’s completely torn up, but, well,” she said slowly, “he has more than himself to think about.”

“I know, and yes, I promise, I’ll be fine,” Reagan assured her.

“You’ll be fine? As in you’re not fine now?” Emily asked.

Reagan sighed. “I’ve done a lot of contemplating out here today, big sister. I’ve shed my tears and counted my blessings. I won’t say it doesn’t hurt like hell,” she admitted. “But yes. I’ll be okay. Just give me some time.” Reagan squeezed her sister’s hands. “Besides. I now have my paintings to keep me occupied.”

Emily shifted, and Reagan knew she was searching her face in that way she always did when Em wanted to make sure someone wasn’t buffaloing her in any way. “I believe you,” she finally said. “I love you, Rea. It will all work out in the end. Trust me.”

Emily did know what she was talking about in that department, no doubt. She and Matt had a tough time of it, too. Big-time tough. And they’d made it through and were now getting married.

The absolute best thing for her to do would be to move on. Get on with her life, her paintings. Live.

And she would—as soon as someone told her heart about the plan.

* * *

E
RIC
SAT
,
PARKED
outside the Oyster Pearl. He’d been staring for too damn long. He needed to go inside. Talk to Celeste. Tell her everything—including about his relationship with Reagan. And just...go from there.

With a deep breath of resignation, he climbed out of his truck and headed for her room. He knocked, and knocked again, then finally, Celeste opened the door.

Her long black hair was wadded up on top of her head, and it was apparent he’d woken her up. Still, she rubbed her eyes and grinned.

“Hi,” she said. “Sorry—I’m always so tired these days.” She stepped aside and Eric moved in, closing the door behind him. It was then he noticed her eyes were swollen and red, as if she’d been crying.

“Why don’t you sit,” he suggested, and he pulled out the chair at the small table by the picture window and sat down. She sat on the end of the bed.

“I want to be straight with you from the beginning, Celeste,” Eric began. “I’ve been in a relationship with a woman I’ve known since childhood. She lives next door to my family’s place.” He rubbed his jaw, watching her expression. Her dark brows knit together, and she kept silent. “I broke things off with her this morning.”

She perked right up, and that annoyed him. “You did? How’d she take the news? Was she devastated?”

That annoyed him even more.

Holding up his hand, Eric shook his head. “I’m not going to talk about her with you, Celeste. Ever. She is someone I care very much for, and you’ve just stepped in and changed our lives completely. You’ve come here, pregnant with my son, and I’m going to do right by you and him. But I’ve gotten over the broken heart you gave me.”

“Eric,” she said, and her smile reached ear to ear, and her eyes shone. “I’m...sorry. For everything. And I’m sorry you had to...hurt her. I didn’t think you’d have found someone.” She inhaled, exhaled. “Thank you.”

Eric’s heart sank at her heartfelt words. He steadied his breath. “While I’m being honest, I gotta tell you, Celeste,” he started. “You’ve got to give me some time with this, okay? It’s...a lot to take in. In a matter of seconds, my life has changed. I just had to leave a relationship I had no intention of leaving. Now I’m facing fatherhood, and fast. You’ve had months to prepare. I’ve had hours. You have to give me time to settle into this.”

“Oh, absolutely,” she said, nodding. “I understand.”

Eric looked at her. “I’ve found a small place for us to rent, for now,” he told her. “It’s not fancy, but it’s furnished, and it’s a start. A comfortable place for a baby. It’s ready to move in, so if you want—”

“Yes! I want!” she said excitedly, and pushed to her feet. She began to move toward him, but stopped herself. “I’ve...really missed you, Eric.”

Eric stood and rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you, uh, want to take a shower or anything before we leave? Probably need to run to the grocery store.”

“Nah,” she said. “I’ll just throw some clothes on and brush my hair and I’m good. I’ll be ready in a sec.”

“Celeste, wait,” Eric said.

She turned around. “Yeah?”

“Are you positive this is my baby?” he asked. “I’m asking in sincerity.” He had to ask. The time frame did fit, but still. So many months had gone by and she hadn’t said a word. She’d given her reasons, but...he had to ask.

“Yes,” she said, and her eyes softened. “Of course he’s yours. There’s been no one else.”

Eric stared at her for a moment, then nodded and watched her turn and disappear into the bathroom. Pregnancy did weird things to women. Celeste used to never leave the house unless everything was perfect. Hair. Makeup. Clothes. Now it seemed she was the complete opposite. He wondered if all pregnant women did the same thing.

Guess he had a lot to learn. And learn fast.

Maybe in time, all of this would...be okay. He’d give it his best, anyway. For his son’s sake.

His son.
He could barely comprehend it.

He’d checked into paternity testing, like his brothers had suggested, and at Celeste’s late stage of pregnancy it was too risky to do. So it’d have to be done after the baby was born. He’d do it. Despite Celeste’s words, he wanted to make double sure. Until then, he’d take her word and treat the baby as his.

The trip to the grocery store wasn’t a quick one. Celeste wanted everything under the roof. He’d be lying to say anything other than he was self-conscious of being with a full-blown pregnant woman. To those who recognized him in the store, it had to seem odd. He’d just recently been in with Reagan.

God Almighty, how would he ever stop thinking about her?

* * *

O
NCE
THE
GROCERIES
were loaded into the truck, Eric headed to the rental house, just one street off the main Cassabaw drag, in a quiet neighborhood of homes built in the 1930s and ’40s. He knew the owners, which is why he’d been able to find a deal so quickly.

Pulling into the drive, he put the truck in Park.

“It’s...a little old, don’t you think?” Celeste said, glancing around at the surrounding similar houses.

“The whole island is ’30s and ’40s, Celeste. You’ll like it.”

She pasted a smile to her face and climbed out, moving to the front door and waiting for Eric to let her inside. He did, then started unloading the groceries from the truck while Celeste looked around.

“What do you think?” Eric asked, setting the last of the bags on the counter.

“It’ll definitely do for now,” she said. “Thanks...for finding one so quickly.”

He wasn’t sure what she expected on a little barrier island. “I know you’re used to a lot fancier, living with your parents. But this...is it.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful,” she said. “Oh, come here. Quick!”

Eric walked to her. “Something wrong?” he asked.

“No, silly, feel,” she said, and grabbed his hand and placed it on her stomach. A hard ball pushed against him. “That’s his foot. Or his butt. I can’t tell.”

Wow.
Inside that stomach was a little tiny person. His tiny person.

His son.

Eric’s brain still struggled with the thought of it.

“Funny, huh?” Celeste commented. “It’s a miracle.”

Eric looked at her, then cleared his throat and stepped back. “Okay, we’ll put all this stuff away and get you settled in, then—”

“You’re not staying with me?” she asked suddenly.

He nodded. “I am. I thought tomorrow evening I’d take you over to my family’s place and introduce you and pick up my things.”

“Oh,” she said, relieved. “Okay. That sounds good.”

When the groceries were put away, a thought crossed Eric’s mind. “Celeste, don’t you need to see a doctor? I mean, you don’t just show up at an emergency room and have a baby.”

“Oh, yeah,” she agreed. “I’ll look for one tomorrow, and just have my records sent from my old doctor’s office.”

That sounded plausible.

“I’m going to sit for a while,” she said, and took a place on the sofa. “Do you still cook?”

He nodded. “I do.”

“Do you mind? Sometimes the smells in the kitchen make me queasy.”

Already, Eric wondered just what exactly he’d gotten himself into. And as he prepared a supper of baked chicken and rice, he couldn’t help but wonder what Reagan was doing at that exact same time.

The evening passed slowly. Celeste busied herself watching reality TV, which he totally had zero interest in. She didn’t seem too interested in conversation, other than commenting on the show she was watching. Eric knew he probably harbored some resentment from their breakup, which was why he was having a hard time with her now. Not to mention she’d hidden a pregnancy from him for months. Still—it seemed like they had nothing in common. At all. How had he been so crazy about her before? Had his heart been true? Or was it the idea of love, marriage and kids leading him by the nose? It seemed like Celeste had been more adventurous in that she liked to do outdoor things with him. They’d take bike rides through the forest. Hike. Yes, she complained sometimes. Had he just ignored most of that? Had he been kidding himself all along? He searched his memory for the love he once had for her, and for the whys. He couldn’t find any. Not one.