Claim My Baby (Crescent Cove 2)

Seth clucked understandingly. “Different situation, but yeah. Mine didn’t care about our kid either. Won’t even talk about my mother. Christ.”

“If they don’t want the kids, you’re better off if they leave. The worst thing for a child is growing up feeling unwanted. Our mother stayed around far too long.”

“Well, there’s a cheerful thought.” Seth pried his lemon out of his soda. “Guess it was too much to hope that drinking would improve your mood, not sour it.”

“My mood is fine. Just saying it’s better if someone makes a choice and stands by it. Half-measures are far worse.” I tipped back my glass.

Guinness number five would probably be excessive. I wasn’t drinking solely to get drunk after all.

Liar, liar, ripped jeans on fire.

“Yeah, you’re right there.” Dare spun his bottle. “So, what’s your story, man? I know this one is happily wedded and new baby and all, but I don’t know much about you.”

> “I’m single.”

“Never married? No kids?”

Ah, fuck it. I didn’t want to be single. So, I should name it and claim it and whatever the hell Oprah said on that show I had never watched.

“I haven’t been married, but I’m trying to be.”

Seth raised his eyebrows at that one. “Say what?”

“It’s not as easy for some of us as it was for you.” I ripped my napkin in two to give myself something to do. My ears were hot, though that could’ve been from the alcohol.

“Since when are you trying to get married? And how does one try anyway? You just propose and if the chick says yes, awesome.”

“I forgot the proposing part.”

My brother stared at me for what felt like a full minute while the low buzz of voices in the bar stabbed at my brain. “You did what? Who did you not propose to?”

“For fuck’s sake, you know who.”

“Sage?” Seth flattened his hands on the table and leaned forward. “Sage Evans? Good Christ, did you stumble into an Elvis chapel or something in Vegas and lose your mind?”

“Vegas.” I snapped my fingers. “That’s it! You’re a goddamn genius.”

“You need to stop drinking. I don’t think it’s healthy for you.” He reached for my beer and I snatched his hand, giving it a big smacking kiss.

Seth did not speak, just glanced at Dare with his eyebrows still raised.

Me? I was grinning like a damn idiot. I’d totally forgotten about Vegas. Well, not forgotten, but I hadn’t considered it a viable option.

It wasn’t now. Not yet. Sage and I were too new and proposing now—no matter how romantic—would just seem like I was changing my approach and trying to prod her to the altar asap for appearances’ sake. We might never reach the point of marriage. And I didn’t fucking care.

I wanted to be with her and my baby. If it meant we’d get married someday, awesome. If not, I’d still get to be with them, and that was what I wanted.

All I wanted.

Me, the guy who always had plans and needed to see the end of the road ahead, was looking at one big bend, and I was okay with getting there in due time.

I picked up my almost empty beer and grinned. Maybe I needed to drink more often.

Dare shifted toward me, edging into my view. “You okay, man? Maybe Seth is right. I don’t think I know this Sage person, but women can screw with our heads, and drinking doesn’t help. You see things much fuzzier when you’ve got a helluva lot of liquor in you.”

“Oh, no. I’m seeing clearer than I ever have.”

“You want to marry Sage. You? The guy who plotted who to invite to the ninth-grade winter formal at prep school for the entire first three months of school. There were lists with pros and cons.”