My Ex's Baby (Crescent Cove 8)

“Pretty much.” I shrugged. “Not sure how long it’s been since you’ve dated, but that’s usually the way of the world. You like someone, you get to know them, you kiss, you fuc—”

“August,” she snapped. “You don’t have to draw me a picture.”

“Oh, I think I do. I think you need a roadmap complete with little stick figures and timelines and projected materials, just so we speak in the language we’re familiar with.” I stepped closer, bumping the toes of her sexy suede boots with my much heavier work ones. “You might not agree, but in mine, we use condoms. A lot.”

Her lashes fluttered before she closed her eyes and shut me out. Still clutching the baby as if she was drowning and my sister’s child was her only chance of keeping her head above water. “It’s all going so fast.”

“Fast? You’ve barely talked to me in six weeks. I didn’t put a ring on it, Kin, I just want to spend some time with you. If that leads to the bedroom, awesome. If it doesn’t, fine. We can play it by ear, as long as we play it.”

She smiled briefly enough I wondered if I’d imagined it. “I’m not really good at dating. It’s been years.”

“Same.”

“We didn’t exactly start with first date material.”

“Nope. But we can rewind, hit some of the steps again. Or speed up and go at our own pace. We make the rules. We can do whatever we want.”

She wetted her lips and carried the baby to her bed before oh so carefully setting her down. Rhiannon didn’t stir. Thank God. I didn’t think I had it in me to soothe another temper tantrum today.

I definitely had no reason to be disappointed Kinleigh wasn’t pregnant.

Absolutely none at all. Because seriously, what would we do with a baby? We didn’t have a damn clue. Rhiannon had given us both a bit of an education, but it wasn’t the same as being the ones responsible. There was so much more to it than giving her a bottle and playing with her and her plastic frog in the bath and dressing her in those snuggly onesies that were so ridiculously cute they were almost capable of making a guy wonder.

And maybe even wish.

“You could always take another test.”

Kinleigh’s back stiffened. She didn’t fully stand from where she’d leaned over the crib to fuss with Rhiannon’s…something. But when I moved closer, she was just stroking her fingers over Rhi’s fine ginger curls.

My heart kicked hard.

“It’s going to be the same answer. I just panicked when my period was late. I’ll probably get it tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” I slid my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. “But if you don’t, you could take another. Just in case.”

“We’ll see,” she said, her voice distant. She was already closing me out as effectively as a slammed door.

I knew she would never take another test. She probably wouldn’t go out with me either.

What we’d had was probably going to be the extent of what occurred between us, and I would just have to learn to live with that.

Somehow.

Nine

I took another test a couple of days later, after driving to the drugstore outside of town and getting another one, this time a different brand. It wasn’t as if I’d never been this late before, but it was rare.

I didn’t know if I wanted the proof conclusively that I wasn’t pregnant or if I was still hanging on to hope I could be carrying that piece of August inside me.

It didn’t make sense. We weren’t a couple. We’d started…whatever the heck we were with a hookup. Even if he claimed he wanted to date me, as if we’d gone back in time to a much simpler way of life.

We hadn’t. The reality was I didn’t want to risk my relationship with Ivy—and Ivy’s family. They meant far too much to me to cause a potential ripple in our relationship just because I was horny.

Right, that’s all you are. Which is why you’re two steps from tears staring at the test on your bathroom counter.

But I didn’t cry. Not even when the test came back negative yet again.

Then the next day, I got my period. A super light, super short version, but good enough.