INSTA-FAMILY

4. Lucy Olivia

4

LUCY OLIVIA

I absolutely dreaded making my second trip to the Merrill house.

I guess I really hadn’t needed to go there, but after confessing all the humiliating details of my pregnancy origins to my family and getting their full support and offer of help, I began to think of the thing growing inside me as an actual child.

And I realized that someday this child was probably going to talk. And ask questions. Lots of questions. Just like my six-year-old nephew, Braiden, did. And I could already picture him or her asking the very first one.

But, Mama, who’s my daddy?

Honestly, I hadn’t known all that much about Duke Merrill. Ergo, here I was. Again.

Remembering the last time I’d been here, I shuddered in revulsion, then winced in guilt because I wasn’t being very respectful of the dead. Poor Duke couldn’t help it that he’d been so bad in the sack. He’d just been happy for one last o****m. And I should be satisfied with giving him a smile on his way out.

If only it hadn’t ended with me turning into a soon-to-be mother.

Dear God, even the word mother made me break out in a cold sweat. I was so not ready for parenthood.

But never mind that. I was here for an entirely different reason. Or maybe it was because of that very reason I was here. Part of me was already acting motherly and striving to give my child whatever I thought was needed.

Steeling my resolve before seeing Duke’s brother again, I fisted my hands at my sides, blew out a long breath, and then I did it.

I knocked on the door.

My pulse picked up and nerves set in when I heard footsteps approaching from the inside. Then I winced as the latch clicked and the door began to open.

Vaughn appeared before I was ready for him, all tall and imposing, dark eyes meeting mine and sending a punch of intimidation and attraction right through me.

Wait. Did I just say attraction? Yeah, scratch that. That word totally had not meant to come out of my thoughts. Because I was not attracted to Vaughn Merrill. I mean, just because a person was attractive didn’t automatically mean you had to form some kind of s****l—

No, not s****l. Jesus, why did I keep thinking words I didn’t mean to? This was getting bad. And all the while, he just stood there, waiting for me to speak, while my brain fumbled over words I didn’t want it to think.

He had a thick covering of facial hair now, and the rings under his eyes told me he hadn’t been sleeping well. The poor man was still mourning. It hadn’t even been three months since he’d buried his brother.

Damn, maybe I should’ve waited a bit before making this house call.

Oh well. Too late now. He was already standing there, still just looking at me.

Waiting.

Stomach twitching with sympathy, I shed all the spite and resentment and—okay, fine—attraction I’d been feeling for him, and I heaved in a big breath before saying, “Hi,” as brightly as I could.

His eyes twitched as he squinted at me in confusion.

Certain that meant he didn’t recognize me, I clasped my hands together and said, “You probably don’t remember me, but—”

“I remember,” he cut in stonily.

“O-oh.” For some reason, I hadn’t expected him to say that, so now I was all thrown off-balance and couldn’t recall what I’d planned to ask in the first place. “Well, uh, good. I mean…”

Argh, I really sucked at this.

Shaking my head and giving him a tremulous apologetic grin, I added, “I didn’t get a chance to speak with you at the funeral…”

Because I might have purposely avoided him at all costs that day.

But I had gone to the service with a couple of my coworkers, and none of them knew I’d—you know—had relations with Duke. I kind of really didn’t want any of them to know, either, so I’d avoided running into Vaughn while I was with the others because I’d had this unreasonable fear that he would oust me completely, pointing when he saw me and shouting in front of all the mourners: Hey, aren’t you that lady who had the one-night stand with my brother? Or worse. What if he pointed and said, YOU’RE the reason Duke’s gone.

So yeah, no way could I go anywhere near him that day and potentially get myself guilted for life.

“I saw you there,” Vaughn told me, making me feel even worse for avoiding him.

“Oh,” I repeated. “Well, I—I just wanted to express my condolences. I’m so sorry for your loss. I only knew Duke from Beriss for those eight months he worked there, but, uh, he was a very memorable guy. I think he packed more life into the office than everyone else combined.”

When I paused—because this was the point where the other person usually thanked you for your compassion and offer of comfort—Vaughn Merrill didn’t thank me at all. And he certainly didn’t appease my biggest fear that my being with Duke might’ve been what killed him.

Narrowing his eyes with suspicion, he merely said, “And?”

And?

“Uh…” Wow, he just kept jostling me with his unexpected and rudely abrupt responses. Not that I didn’t deserve them—you know, for possibly killing off his brother—but still.

“Well…” Clearing my throat before getting to the next part, I nodded, bolstering myself. “I was just wondering if you had a picture or two of him to spare that I could keep and, uh, if there’s anything about him you’d be willing to share with me. Just random, odds-and-ends facts that someone might put into—I don’t know—a scrapbook or…or something. Just anything. It would be really helpful.”

Vaughn didn’t answer for an uncomfortably long moment. Then he shook his head slightly, revealing his confusion. “I thought you said you hadn’t known him that well.”

“Yeah…” I started, frowning out my own bewilderment because why the hell was it any of his business. “Th-that’s why I’m asking for a couple of things to help me get a better picture of who he was in my head.”

“Why?” he asked bluntly.

Oh Jesus. I really hadn’t wanted to tell him why.

It was at that moment that I realized he’d never invited me inside. But it wasn’t his lack of manners that bothered me. It was me, standing outside in the open for anyone to hear me confess my life mistakes, that I wasn’t a big fan of.

Gritting my teeth, I backed up, stepped down off the first step to the front stoop and glanced left, then right.

No neighbors seemed to be out in their yards to listen in. So I sucked in more courage and turned back to Vaughn, easing back up the stairs.

“So the thing is,” I started in a rush. “I’m pregnant, and I just thought a tiny bit of information about the baby’s daddy would be nice to have on hand in case, you know, someday the little guy here actually asks about him.” I rubbed my belly and sent Vaughn a chagrined wince as I finished the whirlwind explanation, probably running the words together horribly in order to get them all out as fast as possible. “Can you help a girl out?”

He just stared at me. Again.

Then he blinked. “You’re pregnant?”

I refused to repeat anything, so I just bit the corner of my lip nervously and nodded.

“And you’re sure it’s his?”

I really had to work and get myself right with Jesus in order not to take exception to that question.

But once I finally calmed myself enough to answer rationally, I nodded. “Yes.”

“How?”

I’m sorry, what?

“Did you just ask me how? As in how I’m sure Duke’s the father? Really?”

Alright, screw calm.

Vaughn Merrill needed to be taught a lesson in some serious manners. You don’t press a woman on whether or not she was absolutely certain she knew who her baby’s daddy was if she answered with an explicitly clear yes the first time around.

Asshole.

“Well, you know. Now that you mention it, I am a little uncertain. Because it’s either Duke’s baby or the last guy I was with...two f*****g years ago. So, you know....” I lifted both hands and alternated between shifting them up and down as if weighing my choices. “I guess it could go either way. I’m so glad you asked, though, and made me feel like a super slut in the process. Appreciate it.”

Not a fan of my sarcasm, he sniffed and shook his head. “I didn’t mean…” But he must’ve known he couldn’t save face at that point, so he dropped whatever excuse, apology, or explanation he’d been about to make, and my own guilt reached a snapping point.

“Look. I’m sorry. Okay?” Tears watered in my eyes. “I know it’s my fault he died. And if I could take it back, I totally would, but it doesn’t negate the fact that—”

“It’s not your fault that he died,” he cut in, squinting at me as if confused by why I would make such a claim.

I blinked at him, equally confused by his confusion. Then I burst out, “But you said that my being with him in his weakened state would—”

“He died because he had lymphoma,” he said with certainty, then shook his head. “No other reason.”

“But—” I cut myself off and tipped my head because…lymphoma? I’d been telling everyone he had leukemia.

Geez. I really hadn’t known anything about Duke, had I?

“I get your guilt,” Vaughn was saying. “I do. I was supposed to be the one taking care of him. Keeping him healthy. And I f*****g failed. So I understand all your worries.”

When he paused abruptly to rein in his own emotions, I blinked, not sure what to say.

But after a moment of swallowing hard and drawing in a deep breath, he met my gaze with steady eyes. “But neither of us killed him. The cancer did.”

I nodded, bobbing my head like an i***t, no words in my arsenal to help him through this moment, which obviously seemed hard for him.

He didn’t need me to speak, though. A moment later, he frowned and asked, “Were you pregnant at the funeral?”

I blinked, certain I had misheard that one. Then I shook my head and sniffed out my amusement. “Um, not sure how Duke could’ve gotten me pregnant after it.”

“I mean—shit.” His face flushed with color when he realized how idiotic he’d been, and he closed his eyes briefly as if he needed to clear his thoughts. Then he touched his brow, reset his brain, and seemed to be back in working order again as he dropped his hand and opened his lashes. “Did you know then, is what I was asking?”

“Oh.” Okay, that made more sense. “No. I found out a little over a week later.”

“Christ.” Gripping his head, he hissed out a humorless laugh and rasped, “This is just like him. Still making me clean up his damn messes, even from the grave.”

“Um, excuse me.” I lifted an indignant finger. “But there’s no mess here. I might have done something I wish I hadn’t, and now there are consequences to deal with. But my kid is not a mess. Nor would I expect or want you of all people to clean it up if there was one because it’s none of your business.”

“How could you be so irresponsible?” he ranted on as if he hadn’t even heard me. “Have you never heard of damn protection?”

I gasped, unable to believe this guy. I wanted to sock him so hard. Right in the jaw. But he was also right. I had completely forgotten protection that night. I’d been so nervous about being careful and not wanting to inadvertently hurt Duke that the thought of condoms and all other forms of prevention had completely slipped my mind.

Duke obviously hadn’t been concerned—because honestly, why would he need to be—so remembering all that really had been on me. But still…

“Look,” I growled, stepping toward Duke’s jerk-faced brother and glaring. “I only came here for a damn picture, not to be judged and lectured about my questionable life decisions, alright? I’m already beating myself up enough for all of that, as it is. I know I could’ve and should have done so many things differently that night, but I can’t take it back now, can I? So just get off my back. If you decide to be an actual human being with some semblance of a heart someday and want to give me any kind of information that I can share with your future niece or nephew about Duke, then great. Here’s my card.”

I shoved it against his chest and let go so abruptly that he had to scramble to keep it from falling to the ground.

“But if not...” I sniffed at him snidely and shrugged before turning away and stalking off. “Then have a good life, asshole.”