12. Harley

TWELVE

HARLEY

My forced smile stayed in place while I waved at Tate as he left. It slid away the second the door closed. I turned and looked at Jordyn, who had left her spot on the floor by the air vent and was rummaging in the pantry for a snack.

"Jordyn, what on earth possessed you to ask Tate to fix our things?"

She looked at me over her shoulder, frowning in confusion. "You weren't feeling well. It was hot and miserable. He's a big guy, and I figured he might know how to fix some things. I don't see what the big deal is."

My sigh was one of frustration. "The big deal is that he's a stranger. We don't know him."

Jordyn looked at me like I was speaking Spanish. "He's not a stranger, he's our neighbor . Besides, he doesn't have to be a stranger if we don't want him to be. He's really nice."

Jordyn seemed hellbent on befriending Tate, and I had no idea why. If I had time to think about it, maybe I could figure it out, but I didn't have time. The girls had me on the hook for cooking dinner and dessert.

It was irritating, but I'd been sweating buckets with the AC broken. I should have been grateful. The air in the house was much cooler than it had been. If I'd been in my right mind—and the situation was different—I'd have showered the guy with thanks and praise. But with the way things were now, him being around just put me on edge. If he came around more often, it would only be a matter of time before he noticed my belly bulge when I started to show.

"Mariah, can you help me get started on dinner?."

"What do you girls think Tate would like?"

Mariah shrugged. "He's a pretty big guy. Something filling? Pasta maybe?"

"Nah," Jordyn said. "That guy is a steak and potatoes dude if I ever saw one."

I couldn't disagree with that. It seemed to hit the nail on the head. "Okay, I like that. Steaks, baked potatoes, maybe a salad?"

The girls nodded, and Mariah said, "That sounds good. I'm getting hungry thinking about it. We didn't eat lunch today. First, it was too hot to eat, then we were busy helping Tate. I'm starving."

"Well, we have everything for a salad. What we don't have is potatoes and steaks. We've got sour cream and butter and all that. Why don't you two run to the store real quick and get everything else? You can grab the list off the fridge and get the other things we need."

Mariah brightened. "Yes! Jordyn, road trip."

I rolled my eyes. "You aren't going to Malibu, you're going to get groceries. It's a three-minute drive, not a road trip."

Mariah grinned. "We're taking a trip to the grocery store, while driving , on the road. Hence, a road trip."

"You better end up being a high-profile lawyer when you grow up. Fine. Grab the list and my wallet, then get out of here."

Once the girls were out the door, I mixed up a quick marinade for the steaks and put it in the fridge.. I decided to take a shower while I waited for them to get home. In my room, I stripped down naked before jumping into the shower.

A groan escaped my lips as the hot water cascaded down my body. I mentally cursed Tate. Why did he have to be the one who fixed it? I didn't know how to show my gratitude. Pushing the thought from my mind, I lathered soap over my body and scrubbed the sweat off my body. Once done, I sat on the shower bench and enjoyed the feel of the water streaming over me.

I'd lost track of time when I heard the front door open. "Shit."

I jumped out of the shower and pulled on a pair of shorts and a white tank top, not even bothering with a bra. I probably still had time to get downstairs and help the girls bring the groceries in when they got home.

I jogged down the stairs, hair still dripping, and almost slid to a stop. Frozen in place, I stared at the front door, where Tate stood holding a paper grocery bag. My eyes locked on him, his on me. His gaze traveled down my body, and I was suddenly aware of the thin white tank top. The dark outline of my nipples was probably visible. Heat crept into my cheeks, and I had to force myself not to cover my chest with my hands.

The heat in my face drained away, and a chill ran up my spine when I saw that Tate wasn't looking at my breasts but at my slightly rounded belly. The girls hadn't noticed the tiny bump, and I'd thought I was still safe from discovery. Obviously, from the look in his eyes, that wasn't the case.

The girls stood by the kitchen door, awkwardly watching us stare each other down. The looks on their faces said they were confused by the strange standoff. I wished they didn't have to be here for this.

Tate, never taking his eyes off me, handed his bag to Mariah. "Girls, go put the groceries away. I need to talk to your mom."

Instead of questioning it, surprisingly, Jordyn and Mariah did exactly what he asked of them without a single protest. Tate walked up the steps toward me. When he got to the step below me, he placed a warm hand against my stomach and unhurriedly guided me back up the stairs.

I clutched at the banister and slowly walked backward, keeping my eyes locked on his. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Did he know? How could he know? I didn't look pregnant yet, just bloated—maybe a little more than just regular bloat. The look in his eyes was intense but not dangerous. Nothing about the situation made me fearful. I was terrified, but in a different way.

He gently steered me into my bedroom and closed the door behind us. He turned to make sure it was latched, and I finally came back to my senses. Panic flooded me. What did he want? How many different ways could the next few minutes play out? Screaming, yelling, crying, accusations—all of the above? God, could this day get any worse? Why were so many damned questions spinning through my head?

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice cracking.

Ignoring my question, he turned to face me, staring right at me. He didn't speak or move; he just looked at me. It could have been that he was trying to think of what to say, or what to ask, but he looked almost like a statue. Immovable. Uncaring. Perhaps he was waiting for me to say something again.

I repeated my original question, putting more strength and conviction into my voice. "What are you doing, Tate?"

"Is there something you need to tell me?" he asked, ignoring my question.

He did know. Somehow, he realized I was pregnant. All coherent thoughts fled my mind, replaced by abject, unblinking fear. I fell back to my only defense. Denial.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, hoping the confused derision in my voice sounded genuine.

"You don't?" His gaze flicked to my belly, and he tilted his head. "Looking a little rounder than when you moved in, aren't you?"

I sputtered, not even sure how to respond to such a direct accusation. I wanted to be shocked or offended, but… he was fucking right.

Forcing the shocked look on my face to morph into one of irritation, I said, "Tate, it's not really polite to point out when a woman's gained weight. You may not have a lot of experience with that, but it's pretty rude, actually."

Tate threw his head back, rolling his eyes, before fixing me with a knowing grin. "Is this why you've been feeling sick?"

I wanted to respond with another lie, anything to get him out of here, but he continued speaking before I could.

"Your girls are worried as shit about you. That tells me they don't know either…"

He was piecing everything together. I'd been an idiot to think I could keep it hidden. All the ridiculous thoughts and plans I had to keep the baby a secret were unraveling because he was too damned smart––because he couldn't keep his damned nose out of my business.

"This isn't your concern. It has nothing to do with you," I said.

Tate stepped forward, uncomfortably close but not touching me, his face soft and calm. "Are you sure about that?"

"Y-yes. It's—" I thought for a split second and made one last attempt at lying. "It's not yours. It's my ex's, but he's not a great guy. That's why we moved away. I wanted to raise the baby away from him."

That was a pretty decent story. It was honestly as close to the truth as I could get. If Luis had been the father, I still would have moved away. It made sense. It was believable. It was logical. He should have bought it hook, line, and sinker.

He smiled at me and said, "Well, a DNA test will prove it one way or another."

"What?" It was like a slap in the face.

He winced and looked at my belly again. "I never planned on being a father. Figured it was something that would never be for me. Though, if this is my baby? I'm not going to be some deadbeat, piece-of-shit father. I won't abandon my child."

I waved my hands in the air between us, as if, by doing so, I could wave his statement away. "No, this isn't how this was supposed to be. It was a fucking one-night stand. One night of really great sex, no names, no history, no future. It was supposed to be a pleasant memory I could pull up later in life. It was not supposed to lead to… to… this." I gestured at both of us. "I don't need you to be involved. I'm not some delicate flower who needs a man to help me raise a baby. I've done fine on my own with Mariah and Jordyn for the last three years. Since…" I trailed off, not wanting to say Sam's name. Not here, not like this, not arguing with Tate.

Tate nodded at me, as though he understood, but the look on his face was anything but defeated or acquiescent. "That's fine, and I respect that. The problem is, at the end of the day, you might be carrying my child. I can't walk away from a responsibility like that."

He opened his mouth to say more, but Mariah called from downstairs, "Steaks are marinating. I got the oven on to bake the potatoes."

Tate grabbed the doorknob and looked back at me before opening it. "I'll give you some time to think about things. About how you want to handle this, but…" he looked me in the eyes, "I'm not going anywhere."

Without another word, he pulled the door open and strode out. I followed, thinking I could stop him, grab him by the shoulders and talk sense into him. Instead, I stopped right at the top of the stairs when I heard him talking to the girls.

"Good job, guys. These look great. How long are they supposed to marinate?" Tate asked.

"The recipe said thirty minutes," Jordyn replied.

"Awesome, I'd go ahead and put the potatoes in. They usually take forever. I'm going back to my place for a bit, but I'll be back. And don't get any ideas, I'm grilling those bad boys. I've got a knack when it comes to barbecued meat. See you in a little while."

"Bye," the girls said in unison.

Jordyn added, "See you soon."

My body numb, I leaned against the newel post, reeling from what had just happened. In ten minutes, my entire world had been thrown upside down. Not only that, but the girls seemed to really like Tate. They were excited to have him around, and all I wanted was for him not to be here.

A thought struck me then, and it devastated me. Did they enjoy Tate's company because of what they were missing? Did they miss Sam's male influence? It had to be difficult being without a father figure for so many years. Were they starved for that type of interaction? My heart broke a little.

Nothing about this made sense. The last thing I wanted was for my girls to get attached to Tate. The problem was, he'd told me his intentions. He wasn't going anywhere. There was no scenario where he would just disappear into the shadows again.

I had no choice now but to tell the girls. When, though? Not tonight. I couldn't do that. I was too drained. The timing was terrible, but I had to tell them. Eventually.