Page 21 of Easy Charm


  “I will gladly let you know how he’s doing.”

  “Thank you.”

  When I’m out of the hospital, I pull my phone out of my pocket and find that I missed a call from a Louisiana number that I don’t recognize. When I check my voice mail, I hear Charly’s voice.

  “This is Charly. Call me back.”

  She doesn’t sound particularly happy with me.

  I sit in the rental car and dial her number.

  “It’s about time.”

  “It’s been a busy day. What can I do for you?”

  “You can go straight to hell,” she replies, her voice full of ice. “You’re a real asshole, Rhys O’Shaughnessy.”

  “Hold up.”

  “No, you hold up. You left without even saying goodbye to either Gabby or Sam. That was an asshole move, Rhys. We all trusted you with them. We believed that you’d be good for them. My brothers let you live.”

  “Nice of them,” I mutter, but she doesn’t even hear me; she just keeps going. She’s in ȕber protective sister mode, and she’s on a roll.

  “But even more than that, Gabby trusted you. Do you know how hard it is for her to do that? Because she doesn’t do that. And she let you in. She and Sam both fell for you, and you just walked right out of their lives without even a backward glance. I sure as fuck hope you’re a better father than you are a fuck buddy, I’ll tell you that right now.”

  “Wait. What?”

  Better father?

  “Because she doesn’t deserve what she got last time this time around.”

  “Charly, stop taking.”

  “Don’t you tell me to stop talking! You’re not the one who’s been consoling her since you walked out. How could you do that?”

  “I didn’t leave for good! Jesus, is that what she thinks?”

  “Of course that’s what she thinks! What do you mean you didn’t leave for good?”

  “I had to come to Chicago for a charity thing, Charly. I forgot about it, and had to leave unexpectedly. I’m coming back down tomorrow.”

  “Well, thank God. You need to work on your communication skills, Rhys.”

  “So does your sister,” I reply. “And what did you mean about the father thing?”

  “Oh.” There’s a long pause, full of her mumbling about being stupid, except I think she’s talking about herself this time. “Look, you need to just get back down here as soon as possible.”

  “Charly—”

  “Seriously. This isn’t my story to tell, Rhys. But you need to be here.”

  “I have a breakfast thing tomorrow that I can’t get out of, but I’ll be on a flight right after it’s done. I’ll be there by early afternoon.”

  “Good.”

  “Is she okay, Charly?”

  “She will be,” she replies, her voice much more calm now. “And she would be without you, too. Trust me on that. But I think she’s better with you.”

  I’m so much better with her too.

  ***

  It’s a beautiful day in Louisiana. I’ve driven this road a hundred times now, yet it feels like it’s taking me forever to get there.

  I need to see her.

  When I finally pull into the long driveway, I see Gabby standing on the porch with Charly and Beau, and a strange man standing just off the porch, his hands on his hips, talking to them.

  Beau’s hands are fisted, his face tight. Charly is simply scowling.

  And Gabby looks terrified.

  What the fuck is this?

  I rush out of the car and around the house to the porch, my eyes immediately on Gabby. She raises her face to meet my gaze, and she freezes, her eyes widening. She looks shocked to see me.

  And not exactly happy.

  “What’s going on?” I ask as I climb the stairs and stand next to Gabby.

  “That’s the sperm donor,” Charly says, nudging her chin toward the stranger.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, glowering. Beau is almost quivering with rage.

  “Who are you?” Colby asks.

  “None of your fucking business,” I reply calmly. “But I can be your worst nightmare if you don’t tell me what the hell you want.”

  “So many threats around here,” he replies with a smirk. “The judge will love hearing about it when I go to get custody of my kid.”

  “What is he talking about?” I stare down at Gabby, then Beau and Charly.

  “He’s talking out of his ass,” Beau replies.

  “I don’t know why everyone is so surprised I’m here,” Colby says with a shake of his head. “I’ve been telling Gabby for two months that I was coming to see my kid.”

  We all stop cold and turn to look at Gabby, who looks ready to tear Colby’s head off.

  “You emailed me one time,” she says, pointing her finger at him. “You called me one time, three days ago. I told you to stay away, that you’re not welcome here. Why for the love of Moses would I expect you to show up here? You aren’t welcome here!”

  “Wait. You’ve been corresponding?” Beau asks incredulously. “You were told to never contact her again. It’s in the fucking contract!”

  Colby shrugs as if it’s all of little consequence to him. I can’t stop looking at Gabby, wondering what the fuck is happening here, and why she never said anything to me.

  Two cop cars pull into the driveway and Gabby visibly relaxes when four officers approach.

  “What’s going on here?” one of the officers asks.

  “This man is trespassing,” Beau replies. “This is private property and he’s not welcome here.”

  “Is he acting in a threatening manner?”

  “He’s not welcome here,” Beau repeats.

  “Looks like you need to leave,” the officer says to Colby, who points at Gabby.

  “She’s keeping my son from me.”

  “That’s a lie,” Gabby says, hysteria on the edges of her voice. “He has no right to my child.”

  “Is he the father?”

  “He’s the fucking sperm donor,” Charly says again.

  “Do you have a court order saying you can see the child?” the officer asks Colby, who shakes his head.

  “No. We were just kids when she got pregnant, and then her brothers and father made me sign away my rights. I mean, they’re rich and really big, and made sure I knew that they’d make my life hell if I didn’t sign.”

  “That’s a fucking lie,” Gabby repeats and Beau looks ready to jump off this porch and kick Colby’s ass.

  I’ll happy join him. This is the loser who knocked Gabby up? What was she thinking? He’s a smarmy idiot.

  “Without a court order, you have no business here. You need to leave.”

  “Fine. I’ll go, but I’m taking you to court.” He points at Gabby, glaring at her, and I growl low in my throat. I want to pull his fucking balls out. “I want my kid.”

  “You’ll never lay your fucking eyes on him,” Gabby replies firmly. She tilts her chin up, throwing daggers with her eyes. “He’s not your son. He’s nothing to you.”

  Good girl.

  Colby is escorted off the property and the policemen wait until he’s driven away. When everyone is gone, Charly breathes a huge sigh of relief, and Beau whirls on Gabby, his face furious.

  “What. The. Fuck. Gabby.”

  “This is not my fault,” she insists, going toe-to-toe with her brother. God, she looks magnificent. I’ve missed her so damn much. I want to carry her inside and protect her from all of this. I want to scoop her up and never let go.

  “He emailed you!” Beau yells. “Months ago!”

  I tuck Gabby behind me and confront Beau myself. “Don’t fucking talk to her like that. Ever.”

  “It’s my job to protect her!” His eyes find Gabby’s, and as angry as he is, he also looks hurt. “I told you to tell me if he ever tried to contact you.”

  “I know,” she says.

  “Well, why didn’t you?”

  “Because I’m not a baby!”

>   Chapter Twenty

  ~Gabby~

  I can’t believe this is happening. Between Colby showing up, Beau being pissed at me, and Rhys coming back, my nerves are shot.

  And I’m royally pissed.

  “That’s it?” Beau asks and shakes his head. “You didn’t tell me that asshole was contacting you because you’re not a baby?”

  “Stop trying to fix my life!” I stomp away, then back again. “I love you. I know that you think that you have to always swoop in and save the day where I’m concerned, but I’m a grown woman, Beau! I’m not the young girl who got in trouble. I’m a mom. I’m a business woman. I have my fucking shit together.”

  “No one said you didn’t,” Beau replies as I walk past Rhys again. He’s leaning against the railing, watching the show. He looks almost casual, but his eyes are narrowed and every muscle in his body is tense, as if he’s ready to spring to my defense any second.

  Another man who thinks I need to be rescued.

  “Gabby,” Charly says, always the peacekeeper. “We’re a family. We handle these things together. That’s why we’re upset that you never told us that Colby had contacted you.”

  “It was nothing.” I tip my head back in exasperation. “It was one email and one phone call. I ignored the email, and when he called I told him to stay the hell away from here. There were no threats.”

  “I told you,” Beau begins, his voice calmer now, but he’s so fucking pissed. “I told you to tell me if he ever so much as breathed in your direction.”

  “Beau—”

  “No. Stop talking and listen to me. Yes, you’re strong. And independent. And you’re a fantastic mom. But Gabby, you can be those things and still allow the people who love you to help you. To have your back.”

  I shake my head and look down at my feet. Why don’t they understand?

  “I’m so tired of being treated like a baby,” I murmur.

  “We’re not treating you like a baby,” Beau says and shoves his hands in his pockets, reminding me of Daddy and Eli. “We would do the same for Charly or Eli. Hell, when Savannah’s world was turned upside down a few months ago, we all rallied around her. We didn’t treat her like a baby. We loved her.”

  I blink at him, pissed to feel tears filling my eyes. He’s right.

  “Don’t you understand that with one phone call, I can make Colby and all of his bullshit disappear?” Beau’s face is stone-hard. And not a little scary.

  “I don’t think he needs to be killed,” I reply with a chuckle and wipe tears from my cheeks.

  “We have the best lawyers money can buy,” Beau replies without blinking an eye. “This is nothing but an annoyance. There was no need for you to worry about this all these weeks.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “We know you,” Charly says, shaking her head. “You’ve worried. And it wasn’t necessary.”

  “We talk to each other,” Beau adds and finally pulls me in his arms for a tight hug, making me cry all over again. Jesus, I’m so fucking emotional when I’m pregnant.

  Fuck, I’m pregnant.

  “I get it,” I whisper. “I’ll let you know if he ever contacts me again.”

  “Thank you.” He kisses the top of my head, sighs, and finally lets me go. “We love you, Gabby. And that has nothing to do with you being the youngest and everything to do with the fact that you’re our sister and one of the best people we know.”

  “When you’re not a pain in the ass,” Charly adds. “I’m heading out. I’ll go check on Sam and Mama. I’m assuming you won’t be over for dinner.” She raises a brow and glances toward Rhys, who still hasn’t said anything.

  I shake my head quickly. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll go in with Charly.” Beau doesn’t move, he simply stares between me and Rhys, and finally says, “Do I need to kick his ass before I go?”

  “No,” I reply and roll my eyes. “Just go.”

  “Damn, I really wanted to kick someone’s ass today. I should have pummeled Colby before the cops showed up.”

  “Goodbye, testosterone man,” I say and push him off my porch, then wave as he and Charly leave.

  Rhys silently moves up behind me, but I can feel him. I’m always aware of exactly where he is. He grips my shoulders in his hands, then turns me around.

  “We need to talk.”

  “I’m all talked out.” I try to walk around him, but he grips my arm and spins me back to face him.

  “We need to talk,” he repeats. “About several things. Let’s start with Colby. Why didn’t you tell me he’d been contacting you?”

  “Not you too.” I roll my eyes and pace away. “Because when it started, I barely knew you.”

  “You knew me pretty well when he called the other day.”

  “I had other things on my mind then.”

  “Gabby—”

  He looks…pissed. “I don’t know why this pisses you off, Rhys. He’s just some idiot from my past.”

  “I’m not angry, I’m hurt. Trust me, there’s a difference.”

  “Look, I don’t know why you’re back, but I’m not doing this with you right now.” The tears are threatening again, and God, he looks so good I just want to jump in his arms and have him hold me for about a week.

  But I’ll be damned if I do that.

  “Yes, you are.” His voice is tender now as he cups my face in his big hands and smiles down at me gently. “Fuck, I missed you.”

  “Then why didn’t you call me?”

  Damn it, I hate that I sound so fucking needy.

  “I called you over and over again and I went straight to voice mail. Either your phone was off or you blocked me.”

  I shrug and pull out of his reach, not ready for him to touch me yet. “You left.”

  “Didn’t you get my original text?”

  “Oh yeah, I got it. And then when I got home all of your things were gone. You left.” The mad returns, boosting my confidence, and making me feel better. “You didn’t even say goodbye. You didn’t even say goodbye to Sam. What am I supposed to tell him? He loves you!”

  “I love him too.”

  Why does he sound so damn calm?

  “Well you have a shitty way of showing it,” I reply.

  “What about you, Gabby?”

  “What about me?”

  “How do you feel?”

  I love you so much I can’t see straight.

  “I’m fucking pissed off at you.”

  “Obviously. Baby, why did you think I wasn’t coming back?”

  “Don’t call me baby.” I glare at him, and the hurt in his eyes from my words makes me feel like a piece of shit. “Your things were gone, Rhys. You left. And men…” I shrug and look down.

  “And men?”

  “Men leave.” I raise my head and look him right in the eyes. “Men leave. I don’t trust that any man is going to stick around for any significant length of time, Rhys. Because they don’t.”

  His eyes narrow.

  “And you know what? I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “What?”

  “I call bullshit,” he says and walks toward me. Slowly. Menacingly, and yet so fucking sexy I can hardly stand it. He’s tall, his light brown hair is messy from his fingers, and his green eyes are on fire.

  I step back, just as slowly.

  “You can call bullshit all you want, but it doesn’t make it false. I was fine before you got here, and I’ll be fine after you leave.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  I stop and blink rapidly. “What?”

  “I never left for good, Gabrielle. I had a charity thing that I totally spaced because I’ve been so wrapped up in you. I told you, you’ve pushed everything else out of focus for me. I had to rush out of here, and it absolutely fucking frustrated the hell out of me that I couldn’t reach you before I left. And then your phone was off, all fucking weekend.”

  Oh. So, pregnancy hormones make me a tad bit dramatic.

  Fuck.
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  He keeps advancing on me, and I continue to back away until my back hits the railing on the far end of the porch, and I have nowhere else to go.

  Rhys props his hands on either side of me and leans down until he’s nose-to-nose with me. “I’m so fucking in love with you, Gabrielle.”

  “You weren’t leaving?” I whisper, still processing the words that just came out of his mouth.

  “That’s all you got out of that?” he asks softly, his eyes searching my face. He’s not touching me yet, and I so want him to touch me. “I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

  “Say the other part again, please.” My voice is rough with unshed tears.

  “I’m in love with you.”

  I bite my lip as one tear falls down my cheek.

  “Are you going to say anything?” he whispers and catches the tear with his thumb. All I can do is shake my head. He loves me.“Good, because I have more to say.”

  He takes my hand in his and leads me to my swing, gestures for me to sit, then sits beside me. “I’ve done a lot of thinking this weekend. Hell, I’ve been thinking since I got here.”

  He smiles tenderly and pushes his fingers into my hair behind my neck, then begins to comb it. God, I’ve missed his touch.

  “I really hope you want to stay,” I whisper, so softly I can barely hear it myself. Why am I so scared to tell him what I want?

  “I think stay is the most beautiful word there is,” he replies and kisses my forehead.

  “But I feel so selfish too,” I admit.

  He cocks his head to the side. “Why?”

  “Because you’d be changing where your home is, just for me. You’d be changing your life.”

  “Gabby, home is wherever you and Sam are.”

  I blink at him, stunned. Has anyone ever loved us so fiercely? And how did I miss this over the past few weeks?

  “What about baseball?”

  “What about it?”

  “You’ll be gone a lot of the year for it.”

  He nods thoughtfully. “Yes, but the majority of the season is in the summer when Sam is out of school. We are fortunate in that we can afford for you to go with me a lot of the time.” He drags his finger down my temple, then hooks my hair behind my ear. “All you have to do is tell me what you want, and it’s yours,” he continues.

  “I want—”

  “What?”