“Sign the NDA.”
“Leaving,” I singsong.
He sighs. “Fine. I…apparently his mother…She got pregnant with my baby.”
I stare at the tiny human. “Apparently?”
“It’s not a hundred percent confirmed that he’s mine. Laura and I had an open relationship.” He draws quotes in the air. “We weren’t really together. The last time we partied, we conceived this little dude.”
Wow, that sounds so empty. Loveless. When I have a child, I hope that my significant other can be a little more enthusiastic about our lovemaking and our son.
“What’s his name?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” he mumbles.
“You can’t leave a hospital without registering the baby,” I screech. “It’s sort of illegal.”
I think. I’d have to check the law of whatever state he was born in.
“Laura gave birth in her house. Lang is running a DNA test to confirm he’s mine. I can’t just name a kid who might not belong to me.”
“No wonder he’s upset,” I say as I take off his clothes and make sure the diaper is secured. “He misses his mom, or contact, or someone to love him.”
“Well then, I’m the wrong person.”
“Listen, if you want me to help you, you’re going to put the well-being of this baby before any of your nonsense.”
“Feisty, I like it.”
“Fisher,” I warn him.
“If you’re going to make me drop my shirt on command, at least call me Fish,” he jokes.
“What did I say about nonsense?”
“So, this friend that you called…how does she know about this trick again?” he asks, ignoring my warning.
“Tara, her daughter, is six months old. Plus, Tracy is nerdier than me. She studied all the books published about motherhood and parenting. Also, she has a wise mother who helps her with her baby.”
“Oh, we have someone with experience as a lifeline,” he says, relieved, taking the baby in his arms and settling him on the left side of his chest.
He starts bouncing slowly. The baby sighs and whimpers, but he’s calming down. My knees go weak watching the well-sculpted, tattooed bad boy take care of his infant son. As I thought, they look adorable together. Can I ask him for a baby? “See, buddy, I told you she’d know what to do, didn’t I?” He says it with such a loving voice, that I almost forget I have to hate him.
I take a seat on the rocking chair and watch them. I could get used to doing this.
“He’s been asleep for a long time. Do you think I should put him in his crib?” Fisher whispers.
I check my phone. It’s been almost two hours since I arrived. “What time did you feed him?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe an hour before I called you.”
“It’s time to feed him again.”
“But he just fell asleep,” he says with exhaustion.
“I’m sorry, but that’s the way it goes for babies,” I say, almost hating that we have to do it.
“Fine, I’ll go with you.”
When we pass the living room, I notice that there are a bunch of books on top of the coffee table. What To Expect the First Year. Your Baby’s First Year. The Wonder Weeks. Baby 411.
“What’s with all those books?”
“Lang bought them so I can learn to be a dad. Granted, we don’t know if he’s mine.”
I glare at him. “Does it matter? He’s under your care. His physical, emotional, and mental well-being are your responsibility. You’re the only person who can love and protect him. Maybe he’s unhappy because he feels unwanted. Is that how you want him to feel for the rest of his life?”
“No. I—”
“Do you have any idea what it is to feel unwanted?”
Because I do, and it’s the worst feeling in the world. It sucks to not belong. Of course, I don’t say that out loud. I censor myself and twist things. Detaching myself from my own emotions. “He’s going to grow up trying to please everyone. He’ll try to be perfect all the time, so those around him will accept him—and even then, nothing he does will be enough.”
He stares at the baby for a long time. “What if I hurt him?”
Fisher Hannigan may be an immature man.
He’s a flirt.
He’s selfish.
But he’s also caring.
“You won’t hurt him intentionally. Every parent makes mistakes, but they also make up for them.”
“You don’t know me. If you did, you’d be taking him away from me,” he assures me.
“I’ve watched you, and even though you’re annoying as hell, you’re caring. If there’s a person who’ll do his best to make sure he’s okay, it’ll be you,” I argue.
“You’re wrong.”
“You take care of the entire town. I’ve seen you. Why don’t you let that superhero role go for now and concentrate on him?”
“What if he’s not mine?”
Ah, so there’s the problem. What if he has to surrender him?
“You’re afraid of falling in love with him and losing him.”
And maybe the playboy, man-child, free-spirited man isn’t real.
What if behind that façade is a broken man who’s too afraid to show himself to the world?
He wears a mask, and whoever he is beneath it may be as lonely and insecure as I am.
“You’re making shit up. You don’t understand,” he argues.
But I do.
I understand perfectly.
The pain.
The loneliness.
The defeat.
In a way, we’re kindred spirits.
And maybe that’s why I feel a connection between us.
We’re the same, just different. Even if I wanted to leave, I couldn’t leave them.
And maybe we can fill those empty spaces, at least until we find out who we are, and find our own paths.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“You think so?”
I nod, hoping that we don’t break more than we already have.
Chapter Twenty
Fisher
Twenty-four hours ago, I knew nothing about babies.
I don’t consider myself an expert, but I can change a diaper, prepare a bottle of formula, and soothe a wailing demon without wanting to jump out of a building. That’s progress, isn’t it?
As a bonus, I slept with Nathalie Brennan—again.
Okay, we lay on the same bed, and there’s a pile of pillows and blankets dividing us—her representation of the Great Wall of China. I look over the ridiculous monument to check on her. The last time we did this, she left without saying goodbye. This morning is different. She’s peacefully sleeping.
I wish I could wake her up and kiss her. I resist the urge, just like I did two hours and twenty-nine minutes ago when we set our little boy into bed. Ours. She demanded that we pretend he is ours and give him all the love he needs. What’s going to happen when Lang comes to pick him up because he’s not mine?
Or in a few months, when Nathalie realizes this town is a lost cause, just like I am, and she leaves too. This is what I’ve been avoiding my entire life. Entanglements. For some reason, the cute doctor got under my skin the same day she made her way into Luna Harbor. There’s something about her that’s not only intriguing but feels familiar.