Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

KATE

" R eady?"

I watch as Henry gets out of their Land Rover and stalks toward the back of Jensen's car, his face twisted with anger.

My trembles intensify. "No."

"I'll do the talking."

Jensen opens his door and begins to climb out, but I grab his arm at the last minute. "Promise me." I look straight into his brown eyes, praying I can trust him. "Promise it's going to be okay."

Lifting my hand, he gently traces his lips across my knuckles. "One day, you won't need me to promise you anything. You'll just know."

A harsh throat clears from behind us, and when Jensen gets out of the car and closes the door behind him, I'm left in the passenger seat staring out of the driver's window at the way Henry scowls at him. His hands are on his hips, his glasses halfway down his nose, and a look of superiority written right across his face.

That look has never changed since the day I was born.

Oh, hell no , he isn't doing this to Jensen as well. I reach for the car door handle.

"Kate, nice of you to join us." Violet stands a couple of feet away from the men, clearly waiting for me to get out of the car.

"I don't have a key to the house, so we waited for you to get home."

"You don't have a key because it's not your home."

Jensen stops whatever he's saying and whips his head over. "What do you mean ‘not your home?' She's your blood."

In response, she holds up a condescending hand. "Technically, you're trespassing here, but since you made the effort to wait around for us, let's go inside. I don't do discussions on my driveway."

Violet and Henry walk side by side up to the porch and then into the house as we follow. I can practically feel the anger flowing from Jensen as we step into the grand entrance, and he takes a look around.

There are no family pictures, only ones of us accepting degrees and achievements. The remaining images are of my parents meeting and socializing with big names and people in high places.

"Fuck me. This place is a shrine to them," Jensen says under his breath.

"Sure is." Touching his arm, I lead him to the study, where they hold all their meetings. "They won't offer you a drink."

Chuckling, he causally walks across the marble flooring, his hands in the pockets of his pants. "With the way your mom just looked at me, I'm happy to pass it up."

"Violet. I call her Violet. Don't refer to her as mom."

"She doesn't let you call her mom?"

I push on the large mahogany door that leads to the study. "I just prefer it that way."

"Jensen Jones?" Violet sits on one of the cold, black leather couches. "That's your name, correct?"

Without being invited, Jensen takes my hand in his and sits me right down next to him on a matching couch opposite my parents. "Not hockey fans, then?"

"No. We don't appreciate sports, especially…" Violet points at him. "Ones that aren't particularly refined."

Pulling his cap off his head, I think he's about to remove it since he's sitting in front of my parents, but instead, he turns it around and replaces it backward. "Oh well, nah, you won't like hockey then. You probably won't like me much thinking about it."

I smirk and Henry notices, raising an unimpressed brow. "I assume you're here to explain the pictures."

"We're here to respond to your texts. As I've always said to Kate, I prefer the old-fashioned way of communication," Jensen counters.

"I'm sorry, but the last time I checked, my daughter had the ability to speak."

Jensen eyes Violet. Crossing his leg over at the knee and making himself super comfortable, he replies, "Oh, so you are aware she's your daughter?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean," Henry bites out.

"Would you like me to refer you to the texts you sent this morning, the things your daughter has told me, or the shameful way you look at her? Your call."

Removing his glasses, Henry looks Jensen straight in the eyes. He must be intimidated by his surroundings, but he doesn't show it, not one bit. "Son. Do you know who you're talking to?"

"Not really. I haven't given it much thought, to be honest. It's a bit like when I'm in a game—I assess the ice for threats and focus on those that pose the greatest risk. I don't see anything here."

I choke on my own saliva and sputter out a cough. He really isn't intimidated.

"Katherine. Can I have a word, please?" Violet stands and indicates she wants me to leave with her.

"What can't be said in this room?"

She looks to Jensen. "You aren't a part of this family, and whether you are having relations with our daughter or not doesn't make a difference. You aren't welcome here. You don't belong."

"He does," I blurt out. "He does belong, and soon enough, he will be a part of my family."

Jensen's hand finds my knee as Violet's face turns from enraged to horrified. Slowly, she sits back on the couch, analyzing my stomach. "We weren't imagining it, Henry. She is. The silly little girl has gone and got herself pregnant with some low-life's child."

Shame washes over me. Deep down, my subconscious battles with my deeply ingrained paranoia—I know I have nothing to be ashamed of, but the way my parents look at me makes me feel like nothing. Like I've thrown my entire life away.

Shame is quickly replaced with anger— low-life?! She knows nothing about him.

"Children."

"Pardon?" Violet's voice quakes.

"Plural, Violet. Children. Kate and I are having twins."

At over seventy years old, both my parents look like they're about to head into cardiac arrest. "Twins?" they whisper in unison.

"Yeah. We're due in March," Jensen clarifies, not a wavering in his voice.

"You stupid girl," Violet spits. "You aren't even married! Give it two months, and he'll be off finding another woman to knock up!"

"He won't," I argue. "Plus, we aren't together. We're going to co-parent."

Bedside me, I feel Jensen tense up. It's the first time he's shown a modicum of unease.

"Oh, this just gets better and better and better, Violet." Henry scrubs a hand over his face. "Get out of my house, the pair of you."

"What?" Panic races through me.

"Get out of my house! You come here, insult us, and then drag our family name through the mud with this scandal."

"Scandal?!" Jensen inches forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. "You're telling me you view your daughter's pregnancy and the fact that I am standing by her, wanting these babies with all my heart, as a fucking scandal? You're telling me you view your unborn grandchildren as a scandal?"

"Get out!" Violet spits.

Jensen doesn't move, and I stay rooted to the spot when he looks Violet dead in the eyes. "Did you view Ava as a scandal, too?"

"How dare you!"

"Or is that cool just because it's Easton and he's a guy?"

Violet ignores Jensen and looks at me. "Your career is over, Katherine. Congratulations. I shouldn't be surprised, though; I always knew you would fuck up."

"You're a hypocrite. You had me." Felicity's words play back in my memory.

"I had you with your father in a supportive home, and once we owned our own business, built it up from the ground and could call the shots. No one was waiting in the wings to replace me when I went off to have children."

"I've never heard such crap in my life," Jensen laughs. "This shit's hilarious."

Violet looks at Jensen and then at me, poison pouring from her. "But I should've stopped at one."

Jensen stops laughing. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I said—" Violet stands from the couch again, and Henry joins her, clearly in support. "We should've stopped at Easton."

The roar I hear from Jensen is enough to shake the entire house at its foundations. He lurches forward, but I can tell he won't touch my parents, even if the look on his face suggests exactly that. "You make me fucking sick," he snarls, his lips curling with rage. "Take a good long look at your stunning daughter and marvel at how you birthed her. I know I am. In fact, I'm starting to question if creatures like you are even capable of creating such perfection."

I place my hand on his arm to try to calm him. My walls are up, and I am in freeze mode, firmly holding in my feelings so the pain of Violet's words doesn't penetrate my heart. "Let's just get out of here, please."

JENSEN

I've done next to zero packing for the flight I absolutely have to take back to Alberta tomorrow morning.

But I can't leave her tonight.

I won't leave her.

I don't want to leave her.

What I want to do is haul her into me, have her arms wrapped around me for solace instead of her comforter. I've wanted to hold her all day, but she's refused to let me in, retreating further into her shell.

Who the fuck says that to their kids? Who the fuck treats anyone like that, let alone their own offspring.

The boiling blood pumping through my veins surges faster. I need to go to her. But she wouldn't let me hold her, comfort her in all ways I know she needs and craves.

"Fuck!" Sitting up on the air mattress I blew up ten minutes earlier, I pull out my phone.

"You know what time it is?" Jessie groans.

"She's not letting me in."

"But she gave you a key, right?"

I roll my eyes in the dark. "Not literally. Metaphorically, she's not letting me in. I'm getting nowhere."

"No fucking idea why you're coming to me with this. You know my track record with women," he says on a yawn. "Just tell her you love her or something."

"Yeah, that's not going to work here. She doesn't want me to love her."

"How do you work that one out?"

"Because her parents don't, so she thinks, why would anyone else."

"And you know this for a fact."

"Yeah. It was pretty clear from the delightful encounter I had with them in their study today."

"Shit."

"They're a piece of work, bro, both of them."

Jessie blows a breath down the phone. I know this is close to home for him. I can practically hear his memory whirling, recalling what happened in Dallas. "Well, you know how it ended up for me when I tried to take the parents on. I'm not the best guy to come to for positive affirmations or advice." He pauses. "I can give you a step-by-step guide on what not to do."

"Yeah, I think I've got that part nailed down, man."

"Look, just keep supporting her. That's all you can do. It might be that she genuinely doesn't want anything more than a good friendship with you."

I flinch. "I won't consider that as a possibility."

"I think you have to. She freely admits she doesn't do relationships. I'm going to be real honest with you here." Jessie pauses. "But first, I need you to promise you won't go off at me for saying it."

I might . "I won't. Shoot."

"How much of this is how you feel about her versus your need to prove Lauren was an idiot for leaving you...which she was, by the way."

Fuck, apparently this conversation is about to hit close to home for us both. "I have no doubts about my feelings for Kate. The more time I spend with her, the more I want her in my life and not just my bed."

"So I'm way off with the Lauren part?"

"Yes," I bite out.

Kate isn't like Lauren; I know she isn't. We're meant to be.

"It's just that for years you've said love, marriage, and commitment are a waste of time and bound to end in heartbreak and?—"

"I know what I've always said." I cut him off, my uneasiness growing as he edges too close to the insecurities I've fought to hide.

"I'm not saying she's not the one for you. I'm just saying if you aren't for her, then it's not a reflection on you. You're a good guy, and Lauren was in the wrong. That shit is bound to leave scars."

I grip at the roots of my hair. "Okay, I think I'm done with this conversation."

"I'm not trying to upset you, man; I just wouldn't be a great friend if I didn't ask. It feels like you're pushing so hard to get the girl, and yeah, I get that, but also to prove a point that Lauren was a one-off. You haven't thrown your hat in the ring until now."

"I haven't up until now because until she started carrying my babies, I was convinced I didn't stand a chance with her." My shoulders slump in defeat. "I probably still don't."

"What are you going to do if it doesn't work out?"

That's one thing I am dead certain of. "Easy. Love the shit out of my kids and try not to bury any guy who fucking looks at her."

He snorts a laugh. "You're borderline unhinged, you know that?"

"And this is news to you? I make a living out of stopping hundred-mile-per-hour slapshots."