13. Jensen

When Jensen awoke, it took him a moment to realise where he was.

The sheet of fabric above his head vaguely reminded him of an awning, but then he shifted, quickly realising he was fully dressed… and sleeping in his son's room. In the strange, tee-pee style single bed that Talia told him she used in the early days of getting Felix to sleep in his own room, and that Felix would eventually use when he grew too big for his cot.

Somehow, he still couldn't believe he was here. And judging from the male voice coming from the living room, he wasn't alone.

Getting to his feet, Jensen paused at Felix's cot, his chest puffing out with pride. His son. It still didn't feel real. None of it did. What had he been doing a week ago? Absolutely nothing of fucking consequence.

And now the little boy in front of him might as well have held Jensen's heart in his tiny fist.

The male voice sounded again, the wall muffling exactly what was being said. Was Euan here?

He hoped not—for two reasons. One, because Jensen had no wish to fight one of his closest friends. Two, because it meant that Talia had been scared enough by his presence to need to call for help.

Jensen may have broken into her home, but he wasn't a danger to her. Or their little boy.

He just hoped she knew that.

Slowly opening the door so as not to wake Felix, Jensen exited the bedroom.

It wasn't Euan out in the living room. It was Quinn, the smarmy little prick he'd seen at the wedding, the one who'd wrapped his arm around Talia's waist.

"—you think you're doing? You let a total stranger sleep in your flat? In the same room as your son?" Quinn hissed, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, blocking Jensen's view of Talia. He approached her, getting far too close for Jensen's comfort.

She's not yours, he chided himself.

"He's not a stranger. He's Felix's father."

Neither of them noticed Jensen, and he did nothing to attract attention, preferring to listen.

"Biology doesn't mean shit. He could be anyone, Talia," Quinn scolded her, immediately raising Jensen's hackles. "Did you even lock your door? He could have hurt you and no one would have heard you scream. You're miles away from the other apartments. You should have called me the moment he knocked on the door."

There was silence before Talia answered, stepping backwards slightly. "I had it handled."

"Clearly fucking not if he's still here. Thank god your dad asked me to come and check on you." Quinn ran his hand through his hair, unaware of Jensen approaching. "Remember that he bought you in a sex club, Talia. He's hardly trustworthy. I'm going in there to send him packing."

"No need," Jensen interrupted, looking down his nose as Quinn whipped around. The rattle of a teaspoon being dropped against the counter sounded. "Anything you want to say, you can say to my face."

Quinn's eyes narrowed, lips twisting in disgust. "How dare you show up at Talia's goddamn apartment? You have no reason to be he—"

"I have every reason to be here, and we both know it," Jensen retorted, his voice low. Talia appeared on Quinn's other side, and Jensen's chest softened as their eyes met.

"Right. The son you abandoned."

"A son that I didn't know existed." Jensen's eyes narrowed, wanting to knock the smug look off his face.

Eyebrow hitching, Quinn spat back a quick retort. "I wonder, does Euan know his closest friend bought his daughter's virginity?"

The threat hung between them in the air, just waiting to be unleashed.

"Quinn," Talia admonished softly, eyelids flickering with hurt.

"Is this your boyfriend?" Jensen asked her, ignoring the swirling mass of nerves collecting in his stomach. Euan hated him enough already—and that was without knowing the circumstances of Felix's conception.

"Yes," Quinn hissed.

Just as Talia answered, "No."

Jensen liked her denial far too much, even as Quinn shot her an exasperated look.

She may have been the mother of his child, but she wasn't his. What must she be? Eighteen? Nineteen? Fuck, he didn't even know. The only thing he could say with certainty was that she was far too young for him.

Quinn's sharp jaw clenched, but he ignored Jensen entirely, focusing on Talia. "At least I was here for you. Who carried you into the health centre the day you found out you were pregnant? Who was there at the airport saying goodbye to you? Who's been there every step of the way? Because it certainly wasn't him. He disappeared the moment he got what he paid for."

"You had to be carried into a health centre?" Jensen exclaimed. The words cut a wound into him, shame and panic welling like blood on his skin.

He hated himself for missing it. But he hated Quinn for being there every bit as much.

Would you rather her have been alone?

He wanted to turn away from that little voice inside his head, but he couldn't.

If he could choose between Talia being alone, and Talia having the support of a friend throughout her pregnancy, Jensen would choose the latter every day of the week.

It didn't mean he didn't hate Quinn for being there any less.

Talia ignored him. "Jay said he left a note."

A laugh burst from Quinn. "A note? Well how fuckin' convenient he's only bringing that up now. Ignoring the fact that his name isn't Jay because, may I remind you, he gave you a fake name."

Jensen twisted as crying sounded from Felix's room, pulling at his heartstrings. He moved, Talia shadowing his footsteps.

"He's probably hungry." She gave him a faint smile as he opened the door for her. A wall of noise hit them. How can such a small person make so much noise?

"Can I help?" he asked.

Quinn grumbled something out of earshot, and Jensen sent him a filthy look. He didn't hear what was said, but he could guess.

"Are you lactating?" she grinned, picking up a red-faced, wet-cheeked Felix and crooning words of comfort in his ear.

Jensen sent her a smirk. "Not that I'm currently aware of."

"Then there's not much you can do. Sometimes only a cwtch from mummy is good enough, isn't it? I usually go out with my friend on Sundays, so maybe we can meet up in the week. I know the past couple of days have been…"

"Amazing," Jensen supplied, unable to stop his lips curving into a smile at the sight of his little boy. He pulled out his phone, glossing over a text from Roman saying Tarik could come whenever to install the security system. Shit, plus there was one from the joint venture's management team demanding an urgent meeting after Euan had pulled out. "What's your number?"

Talia settled herself on the armchair next to the cot, giving him her number from memory.

Jensen jotted it down, quickly opening a text. "I'm sending you my full details. Email, address, everything."

"Don't forget your bank account details," she smiled, a teasing edge to her voice. Felix attempted to yank her shirt up in quick, aggressive motions. A hangry baby, then. Even so, Talia held her shirt down, clearly waiting for him to leave.

"They'll be in there," he winked, backing out of the room. He'd wanted to say goodbye to his son, but he also didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable in her own home.

Even as a snarky voice inside reminded him that he'd literally broken in only hours ago.

"I'll speak to you soon."

The humour left him as soon as he turned around, finding Quinn's hateful gaze on him. "Haven't you done enough damage?" Quinn whispered, too low for Talia to hear.

"I get that you're looking out for her," Jensen said, his tone hushed. "But I'm Felix's father. I'm not going anywhere."

"Then I'll be here," Quinn tilted his head, eyes burning. "Ready to look after her once you're done ruining her life—just like last time."

As he exited Talia's flat, making his way back down the stairs, he couldn't help but mull on the barbed insult. When he'd met Talia, she'd been at Columbia, working towards becoming a doctor. One night with him had left her alone and pregnant, and he'd been ignorant of it all.

I wanted to tell you more than anything, she'd said last night, tears streaming down her face.

Quinn's insult hurt, because it was true. He'd ruined the life she'd had.

His resolve hardened by the time he reached the ground floor. He had no idea how to be a dad; if he wanted to do it properly, to take care of Talia and Felix the way they deserved, then he'd need help.

Pressing the phone to his ear, Jensen waited—it rang once, twice, thrice.

"Jensen," Warren greeted him down the phone, the sound of a baby giggling in the background.

"Hello, mate," Jensen said quickly, dodging a delivery bike haring down the pavement at the speed of light. "Look, I need a favour."

By the time Jensen finally sat down at Warren and Kate's dining room table, he was exhausted. "Is it like this every day?"

Warren shrugged, checking the baby monitor app on his phone. In her cot, Lucie was finally down for her afternoon nap. "It's less stressful when Kate and everyone else is around, plus Lucie's teething too. And she's recovering from having her sleep disturbed by the wedding. So it's not necessarily like this every day."

Jensen stayed silent, ruminating over his thoughts.

He knew a baby was hard work, but today was hard fucking work. Warren had been happy to show him the ropes of looking after a baby, from changing nappies to feeding to bathing to supervising. But there had been a myriad of smaller things that he never would have thought of.

Jensen now knew to check an inconsolable baby's fingers and toes to ensure long hairs hadn't become wrapped around them, cutting off circulation. Grapes had to be cut into quarters. It was easier to dab nappy cream on with a make-up brush than a finger. Pillows and blankets were safety hazards for babies. Heavy furniture should be properly secured so there was no chance of it toppling over. And on and on, until he had a giant list of everything on his phone to ensure he wouldn't forget.

Jensen had a newfound respect for his friend. Warren seamlessly blended running a business with being a fully involved parent, shouldering endless responsibilities at once.

He'd had no idea how draining parenting would be. There was no off switch. There were no breaks. And yet he'd never heard Warren complain about it. On the contrary, Warren had nothing but love for his little girl.

Jensen only hoped that he'd be as good a father as Warren.

"I can't imagine how you must be feeling right now."

He looked up to see Warren gazing at him across the table and almost laughed. "I have no idea how I feel either. Overwhelmed. Guilty. Terrified. Excited. Devastated." His forehead creased the more he thought about it. "Talia must fucking hate me. She's been doing everything on her own, with no hope of seeing me again."

Warren shook his head. "I still can't believe you're Felix's father. This entire time… Kate helped Talia recover from the birth. Iput Felix's cot together, for Christ sake."

Something in him broke. "You did?"

"I did," Warren confirmed, wearing an unreadable expression. "Kate said Talia was having trouble with it a few weeks before he was born, so I went round."

Jensen leant back in the chair as a feeling of utter uselessness rolled over him, the shirt he'd borrowed from Warren slightly tight around his shoulders. "How… how old is he exactly?"

It was a pathetic question about his own son, but he hadn't had a chance to ask yet. He had a rough idea, but that was all. A father should have more than that.

Jealousy raked over him again, but for once it wasn't Quinn who he was jealous of; it was Warren. Warren had been there for Talia and Felix when he hadn't been. Jensen didn't know whether he wanted to thank him or strangle him, but that voice crept up on him again.

Would you rather Talia was alone?

Never, he snarled back.

Warren gave him a hard glance, but Jensen didn't blame him. What kind of father didn't know his own son's birthday? "Felix was nine months on the 11th February. A fortnight older than Lucie."

The coward in him paused before asking his next question. "And how old is Talia?"

Warren's gaze seared into his soul. "Nineteen. We went to her birthday dinner a few months ago."

The blood left his cheeks, turning them a pallid, grey colour. He'd known she must have been around that age, but having it confirmed was still a blow. "Euan was right to deck me."

Warren said nothing—and that said it all.

Talia was less than half his age. It felt like a crime.

And now they had a child together.

Gritting his teeth, he aimed the next question he had. "Do you know much about this Quinn guy?"

"Not that much. They met whilst at university in New York. He tends to look after her, and I know Kate thinks he's quite protective of her."

Jensen should have been glad someone was looking out for Talia, but all he could feel was a wrongness that it wasn't him. He shoved that emotion deep inside. She was too young for him by far; just because they'd spent a night together didn't mean she belonged to him. "I don't like him." No, that wasn't true. "I fucking hate him, in fact," Jensen spat, his Scottish accent getting stronger in his anger. "Every time I see him, I want to wring his neck."

Warren gave a wry smile. "Careful, or you'll end up in prison again."

A dry laugh left him. "Never again. Last time I was behind bars I met you. There's no telling what kind of lunatic I'll run into if I go back inside."

With another look at the baby monitor, Warren rubbed the back of his head. "Speaking of which, how does Talia feel about your ever-so-slightly murderous history?"

There was a pause before he answered. Jaw clenching, Jensen met his friend's gaze head-on. "I haven't told her yet." He'd barely had time to tell her anything about himself, let alone that.

Incredulity rounded Warren's eyes. "You're joking?"

"If I tell her, what do you think she'll do? Run for the hills, and, to be honest, I wouldn't blame her. A convicted killer is hardly the ideal co-parent."

"She knows I was in prison."

Jensen laughed. "Yeah, but you were wrongly convicted. It's not even close to the same thing. Think of her reaction if she knew the details of the case. She'd never trust me or Rhys again if she knew what we did. I don't want to push her further away, Warren."

"So you're just going to portray yourself as the average, run-of-the-mill businessman?" Warren crossed his arms over his chest, his brows drawn down.

"Yes," he stressed. "I want a relationship with my son. Would you not want that?"

Glancing in the direction of Lucie's bedroom, Warren let out a compliant sigh. "You know I would."

Keen to change the subject, Jensen steered them towards Stone Holdings' latest acquisition—or potential acquisition. "How have things been going with the property development company you wanted to buy? The last I heard Gloria had managed to get a meeting with the CEO."

"She did," Warren nodded. "She actually sent me the minutes of the meeting a few days ago. Let me see if I can find them."

The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze of work chat, debating how much money would need to be poured into the potential acquisition before they pulled it from the brink of collapse.

Jensen was so immersed in their discussion he almost missed his phone buzzing. He tilted the screen towards him, pleased to see that Tarik had given him the go-ahead—instead of yet another voicemail from the management team of his and Euan's joint venture.

Well, now he supposed it was just his venture after Euan had pulled out. Fuck. "I need to get going if I'm going to meet this security guy. Thank you for helping me today. I appreciate it."

"Even if you ended up with baby shit smeared all over your shirt sleeve?"

With a grimace, he nodded. "Even then. I'll give you this shirt back next time I see you."

"Did you want yours back?" Warren's eyebrow flicked up, humour laced in his eyes.

Did he fuck. Jensen stood, the chair's wooden legs scraping against the floor. "Not a chance."