Falling for the Brother

She’d have good news for Bruce and he’d forgive her for allowing the test to happen behind his back.

And Mason…

Could she insist that he have a role in Brie’s life? That he have the chance to be a real uncle?

Did he want to be?

If he did, would she let him?

She had to, didn’t she?

She’d never made an agreement to stay away from Mason. Would never have agreed to that. Which was probably why Bruce hadn’t told her about it.

He’d manipulated the situation, just like Mason had said. But could she blame him?

What if Mason was Brie’s father? Bruce would never forgive her for allowing the test. Some things just weren’t excusable. Like sleeping with his brother in the first place.

Not that Bruce had ever thrown it in her face. As he’d promised when he’d begged her to marry him, they’d never mentioned that night again.

If he wasn’t Brie’s father, did he have to know?

Did Brie?

At some point, maybe, but…

Her phone rang and she scooped it off the table, thinking it would be her mom calling her back. She needed to talk to her. To learn what she thought about Harper agreeing to the paternity test…

Mason. The caller was Mason.

Pleasure rushed through her and then was gone. She wasn’t ready to talk to him, afraid of what he might require of her. And what he might not care enough to ask about.

How could you want something and dread it with equal fierceness?

“Hello?” She had to answer. He’d be calling to make arrangements for Grace’s visit.

“I was notified that the courier picked up my sample an hour ago.” At eight o’clock on Friday night? The clock was ticking. Unless…maybe the lab didn’t work weekends. Maybe the three days would start on Monday.

She took another gulp of wine.

“We could hear as early as Sunday, no later than Monday.”

No! “You said three days.”

“That was the max.”

Then he should’ve said it was max. Harper’s agitation was aimed at him, but she knew that wasn’t fair. Stress tightened the skin on her face, the muscles in her neck. Excitement bred butterflies in her stomach.

Dread took her voice away.

She was a damned mess and had no idea what to do about it.

She’d get off the phone and go to her private gym.

And think about work.

“Did you talk to Grace?”

“Yes. I’m picking her up at seven. We should be there around nine. Will you let Gram know?”

Did every single thing he needed from her have to be so uncomfortable? So hard?

“Of course.” It was her job.

“We also need to talk about what we’re going to do if the test comes back positive.”

We. What we’re going to do.

Sitting up straight, Harper looked at the line separating white from reddened skin at the edge of her shorts. She’d gotten some sun at the beach. And the pool.

We.

“Do I have a choice in the matter?”

“Of course you have a choice.” He said the words so matter-of-factly. “You’re her mother, Harper. Ultimately all the choices are yours.”

For the first time that day, she felt like herself. She recognized her usual sense of control, of being strong and capable.

She hadn’t noticed it missing until it had returned, and she was confused by that.

When had it left?

And why?

She reassured herself that she was in control of her own choices, her own life. With full custody of Brianna she was even in control there—until Brianna grew up and took control of her own life.

“If you’re her father, you have rights, too,” she said softly. And took a breath against the sharp sting of fear left in the wake of those words. Looking around, as though the room was bugged and someone would come bursting in on her for having dared to utter such a blasphemy, she lifted her wineglass with a shaking hand.

She took a sip. Regained control.

“If you aren’t, I’d appreciate your letting me tell him we did the test.” Bruce would feel less betrayed if she explained why she’d participated in a test he’d refused—to put his doubts to rest.

“Agreed.”

Silence hung on the line. Was he waiting for her to say more? Set more guidelines?

“If you are…” What? She didn’t know what. Her body trembled, only she wasn’t cold. She pulled Brie’s fleece blanket off the arm of the couch anyway and wrapped it around her bare shoulders.