Codename Phantom

“FJ?” she shouts when she looks into the bassinet, and her baby isn’t there. Okay, shit. I feel bad about that.

“He’s right here,” I say, stepping into the moonlight. She flips the lamp sitting on her nightstand on, and my eyes adjust quickly. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. She looks different, happier, but tired, and I imagine that has to do with the baby.

“Forest? What are you doing here?”

“I’m on leave. You’re my first stop.”

“I missed you so much,” she says, getting out of bed. Her little black nightgown leaves nothing to the imagination. I step toward her, feeling very possessive of her.

“Who's baby is this, Desiree?” I demand. Her mouth drops open in surprise, but that quickly changes to anger. She doesn’t say anything but stares at me, clearly pissed off, then she crosses her arms over her chest, making her tits look obscenely large.

A few minutes later, neither of us is saying anything. Steve sticks his head into the room. “Why don’t I take him? I think you guys have a lot to talk about.

“He needs to be fed and changed. Do you mind?”

“Nope,” he says, coming into the room. I watch him grab a diaper and pack diaper wipes off the changing table. Then he comes over to me and holds his arm out, and I transfer the baby over to him.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asks him.

“Nah, is there breast milk in the fridge?”

“No, he’s all formula at night now.”

“On it. You two should keep it down. Mom and Dad are still sleeping.

“Thanks, Stevie,” she says. He manages to pull the door closed behind him.

All I can do is stare at her before speaking again. I’m angry, but I can’t help wanting to pull her into my arms and kiss her until neither of us can breathe.

One thing at a time, though.

CHAPTER 2

DESIREE AUSTEN

“Who touched you? Who took what was mine?” he demands, and all I can do is stare at him.

“You’re such an asshole. I can't believe you'd ask me that, Forest. As if I'd ever let another man take what's yours. As if I'd ever let another man into the place you've claimed as your own. You must not know that I've loved you since I was ten years old, and you helped me up when I fell off my bike.

“I knew.”

“Then how can you stand there and question my loyalty to you? He’s your son, Forest. We have a son.”

“I’ve been away for far too long.”

“That’s not my fault. How do you think I felt? I’ve been worried sick about you for five years. Just because we fucked a year ago doesn’t mean this started a year ago.”

“Fucked? Fucked?” He advances on me, backing me up to my bedroom door. “If you think that we did was just fucking, you are out of your mind, Desiree. I literally poured my love into you. Look what we made,” he says, placing his right hand on my now empty belly. I still have a little pouch because I’ve been too busy to hit the gym since FJ was born. I place my hand over his. I’d be embarrassed about it, but he’s holding me so reverently that I can’t be.

“I know what we made. I was there when I had him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Forest James Lochlan, Junior. We call him FJ.”

“Why didn’t you answer my letters, texts, or emails?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Do my parents know? Cara?” Gene and Twyla are salt of the Earth people, and my sister Cara is too. For them not to tell me had to weigh heavily on them.

“Of course.” My parents, Gene and Twyla, are salt of the Earth people, and my sister, Cara. For them not to tell me had to weigh heavily on them.

“And no one told me? Why?”

“I begged them not to. I thought you’d try to come home.”

“Of course, I would have come home, Desi. I would have moved mountains to be with you when our son was born.”

“I know, Forest. That’s why I couldn’t tell you. I knew you were going for another promotion; congratulations on that, by the way, and I couldn’t take that away from you. You worked too hard.”

“That was for me to decide. I missed the birth of our child.”

“I’m sorry, but I did what I thought was right.”

“What if I never came home?” he says, gutting me. I start crying; I can’t help it. Giant snotty sobs wrack my body. He wraps his arms around me, and I feel safe and at home.

“Why’d you have to say that?”

“Because I had to. You can’t do that to me again,” he says.

“I’m sorry. I won’t.”

“Damn right,” he says before his lips land on mine.

“I missed you,” I say. I missed him more than I ever thought was possible. How will I survive him leaving again?