It simply wasn’t an option.
Oakley took a long, cleansing breath and reached into the cabinet beneath the sink, pulling out the two boxes she’d hidden in there a week ago. Her hands shook as she opened each of them and read over the instructions. She’d bought two different brands to be thorough, but the instructions were pretty much the same. Pee on a stick, wait three minutes to find out if your life was changed forever. One would give a plus or a minus, the other would give two lines for pregnant, one for not.
She carried the two tests into the small alcove that housed the toilet, trying to steel herself against the panic attack that wanted to overtake her. If she was pregnant, she could handle it. She’d be okay. Reagan would probably love having a sibling around. And Oakley was way more equipped this time around than she had been last time. Pike would help with the finances. Either way, this wouldn’t be the end of the world.
With that in mind, she did what she needed to do and took the tests. When she was done, she set the two sticks on the counter, washed her hands, and then sat down on the edge of the tub. The clock on the wall seemed to tick slower and slower as she watched, and she had to put her face in her hands so she’d stop staring at the second hand. Tick. Tick. Tick.
She waited for longer than she thought she needed to and when she finally allowed herself to look, five minutes had passed. She stood, walked over to the counter, and braced herself for the result.
Pike leaned back on his couch, feeling more tired and gutted than he’d ever been. After getting back from Oakley’s, he’d just felt numb. He’d come home, opened a bottle of whiskey, and had put his headphones on full blast—anything to get his mind off of what had just happened.
He’d screwed it up. He hadn’t told her he loved her even though he knew it was the truth. He hadn’t been able to take that extra step and leave himself completely stripped down. And without those words, she hadn’t believed that he meant what he’d said. And hell, maybe he was fucking crazy. Maybe his instincts were shit. But he couldn’t get past that feeling that they really would be great together. He just had to find a way to show her that he meant what he’d said, that this wasn’t some obligatory proposal because he might’ve gotten her pregnant.
He didn’t do obligatory anything.
If she needed more time, he could give it to her. If she wanted to slow down, date, and see how it went, he was open to it. He’d scared her and now he needed to make it right.
He would fix this. Somehow.
He set the whiskey bottle on the floor and rolled to the side. His music stopped, his hip accidentally depressing a button on his cell and his phone asked, “What the hell do you want?”
Normally, the question would’ve made him chuckle. Braxton had installed an app on Pike’s phone that made the built-in assistant rude. But right now, he just wanted to throw the damn thing.
“I want Oakley Easton. Can you make that happen, genius?”
His phone dinged. “Found Oakley Easton, Perfect Match dating. Go to site?”
“What the fuck?”
He shifted up and pulled his phone from beneath his body, the screen bright in the dark room.
“Go to site?” the phone repeated.
“Yeah.” He sat up, the room spinning a little.
The screen changed and the Perfect Match dating website opened up. He recognized the logo from the commercials they were constantly running. Oakley’s picture was displayed front and center with the words Profile: Active beneath it. His heart lurched a little at seeing her bright smile, but dread was curling in his stomach. He touched the picture, opening up her full profile.
Status: Unmarried / Children: 1 / Seeking: men, age 26-40
Preferred career background of partner: Business, Engineering, Academia
Preferred education: Bachelor degree or higher
Ideal qualities: Smart, Stable, Romantic, Kind, Family-oriented, Funny
Turnoffs: Cockiness, tattoos, smoking
Pike sucked in a breath. His eyes skimmed the rest of her profile, but the message couldn’t get any clearer. What Oakley labeled as her ideal was everything he wasn’t. She was looking for a suit. Part of him hoped that maybe this was an old profile and that he’d changed her mind on a few things, but when he scanned to the top of the screen, he saw the date the page was created. The little numbers were like a punch to the sternum. She’d made this sometime after their first night on the phone.
With a sick feeling washing over him, he closed out the window and tossed his phone aside.
This was why she’d tried to push him away when the condom had broken in the first place. This was why she’d said no to his proposal. It wasn’t because she was scared or didn’t believe he had feelings for her. It was because she knew the kind of man she wanted in her life long-term and he wasn’t it. He was the hot fuck, the wild night—the disposable one, not the boyfriend.
How the hell had he thought it would’ve been any different? Oakley wasn’t a stupid or reckless person. Who would look at him and think long-term or future father to my children or potential love of my life? Not someone like her. No, she wanted a guy who would be there every day, who’d work eight to five and be home for dinner, a guy who’d take her to neighborhood barbecues and coach the kid’s baseball team. A guy like all these yahoos who’d left comments on her page. Not one like him. Not one who came from a fucked-up family and who had a drug history and who thought a fun night was beating her with a belt.
The whole time he’d only been her distraction. Her fling. She’d been trying to tell him that all along. And he’d been too dumb to listen.
But now he heard. Loud and clear.
Oakley may have wanted him in her bed. But she’d never love him.
His phone buzzed against the couch cushion. Frowning, he reached over and grabbed it. Oakley’s name blinked on the screen.
He looked at the clock. Why was she calling this early? He put the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“I took the test,” she said quietly.
He straightened, all the liquor threatening to come up. “Without me?”
“I—I figured it’d be easier, after everything,” she said, her voice thick, like she’d been crying.
Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. “Tell me, Oakley.”
“It’s negative. No pregnancy.”
It was the news they’d both been wanting to hear, but this crashing feeling went through him anyway, like every hope and good thing inside him falling in a pile at his feet. “Are you sure?”
She sighed, like maybe her feelings on it weren’t so clear-cut either. “I took two tests. They’re supposed to be ninety-eight percent accurate.”
He let out a long breath and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Are you okay? It sounds like you’ve been crying.”
“I’m all right. I think all the stress just got to me at once—seeing the test and finally knowing. I mean, this is a good thing. We’re not—this wouldn’t have been the right time for either of us to have a baby. I’m finally close to getting a promotion at work. You have this big opportunity for your band. Now you can go and enjoy the tour without worrying. There’s nothing holding you here now.”
He lay back on the couch and closed his eyes, his chest hurting. “No, I guess there’s not.”
She was quiet for a long moment. “I’m sorry I hurt you last night, Pike. That’s the last thing I wanted to do. I don’t want you to think your gesture didn’t mean something to me. It meant … well, it meant everything. Not many men would be willing to sacrifice that much to be there for me … and for a baby. But you’ve got to know that it’d be insane for us to move that fast. I’ve got Rae and there’s still so much we don’t know about each other. I would never forgive myself for taking you off course for a career you’ve worked so hard for. You’re brilliant, Pike, and talented, and the world deserves to see that. You’re meant for bigger things than what I and the life I lead could ever give you.”
Her words were meant to soothe, to soft
en the sting, and he had no doubt she meant them with only good intentions. But they cut through him like jagged-edged glass, hurting worse than anything else she’d ever said to him. He was meant for other things. Translation: He was not meant for things like family and kids and loving, long-term relationships. He didn’t fit in that world and never would.
“I’m sorry I can’t be the kind of guy you want.” The words slipped out before he could think to hold them back, and he cringed at how fucking pathetic he sounded.
“What are you talking about, Pike? Didn’t you hear anything I just said?”
“I saw your dating profile, Oakley.”
“You what?”
“It’s fine. I get it. You want a Foster. Not a Pike.”
“You’re not making any sense. Are you drunk?”
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter anyway.” He pressed his fingers to the spot above his right eye where a wicked headache was starting. “Look, Oakley, I’ve got to go.”
“Will I see you tomorrow for the last recording session?”
He grimaced. “I’ve got somewhere to be. I’ll call Braxton, and he’ll help you finish up the recording. He knows how to work everything, and I’ll clean up the files afterward.”
She was quiet for a long moment. “Are you going to be at their performance at the end of the month?”
“It’s on my calendar.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“As long as nothing comes up for the tour.”
She let out a breath. “Don’t do this, Pike. Don’t punish them because we’ve fucked this up. They’ll be crushed if you’re not there. They need you there.”
“No. They need their parents. They need the people who love them. They don’t need me.”
No one did. It’s how he’d set up his life since he’d walked out of his house. If no one needs you, there’s no chance you’ll let them down.
“Pike.”
“I’ve gotta go.”
He hung up the phone before she could protest again. He couldn’t stand to hear that disappointment in her voice, the resignation—like she’d hoped for better but wasn’t surprised. Yes, Oakley, I’m doing just what you thought I always would. I’m being the asshole.
That’s what he was good at.
He leaned over to grab his laptop off the coffee table and opened up a travel site. He’d been in this place before and he knew exactly how to handle it.
THIRTY-TWO
three weeks later …
Oakley stood near the wall in the auditorium, close enough to the stage to intervene if necessary but far enough back that the kids wouldn’t think she was hovering. The room was full, parents and other family members chatting at a low-roar level before everything started, but she was way too tense to socialize.
Reagan had been a nervous wreck backstage, reverting to an old hand-flapping habit she hadn’t had since she was six. She’d looked like a high-strung bird, flitting around the small hallway. Oakley had managed to calm her after a talk and some deep breathing exercises. But she was still afraid Rae would freak out before she made it to the stage. Or worse—freak out on stage.
Oakley chewed her thumbnail. Maybe it had been a mistake to let Rae take on this big of a role. It was too much pressure for her, too many people to be in front of. Maybe she should just go backstage and get her. They had an understudy who could take over the leads if necessary for tonight.
Tessa waved at her from her spot in the second row, a big grin on her face. Oakley lifted a hand and forced a smile. Tessa had pulled her aside during rehearsals today and had told her how amazed she was at how everything had turned out. In its first week on iTunes, “Blue Skies” was already gaining momentum and making money for the kids’ college funds, thanks to a spot Gibson had booked them on Good Morning Texas using his PR contacts. Now there was talk of the story getting picked up nationally.
Tessa had given Oakley the promotion right there on the spot. Full-time project coordinator—double the salary she’d been making as a receptionist, along with extra benefits. It was so much more than she could’ve ever hoped for. She wouldn’t have to take another night call. No more faking it. No more getting called derogatory names. No more hiding. She could spend her free time on her songwriting.
But she’d barely been able to get excited about it. She hadn’t seen Pike since the night he’d proposed. He hadn’t shown up at any of the recording sessions, and Braxton had finally told her that Pike had flown to L.A. to take care of preliminary tour stuff. She’d known that night on the phone that she might never see him again. She’d heard the distance in his voice, felt the wall go up, the door slam shut. She’d known it would hurt. But she hadn’t anticipated just how much. That absence had left a big fucking hole in her chest and had taken the shine off everything that would’ve normally made her happy.
She laced her hands behind her neck and closed her eyes, trying to release the tension she couldn’t seem to shake. A hand touched her elbow and she jumped.
For one hopeful moment, she thought it was him. That he’d changed his mind, that he’d be here for the kids. That she’d open her eyes and he’d be here. But when she lifted her lids, there was no cocky smirk or chameleon eyes. A familiar face, but not the one she needed.
Gibson sent her an apologetic smile, as if he knew what she’d been thinking. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
She blew out a breath. “Not your fault. A breeze could make me jump right now.”
“They’re going to be great. If they can do TV, they can do this.”
“Thanks again for getting them on that show. The sales jumped immediately.”
He shrugged. “It’s the least I could do. And they’re an easy sell. It’s a great feel-good story. Plus, the songs are actually good.”
She smiled. “The kids have worked really hard.”
“You and Pike have worked really hard, too.”
She looked away. “Yeah.”
Gibson tucked his hands in his slacks, following her gaze toward the stage. “He told me what happened, that he proposed to you. Well—told is a strong word. I basically got him drunk and plied it out of him before he left for L.A., and I said I wouldn’t watch Monty while he was gone unless he told me what had crawled up his ass.”
She rubbed her lips together and nodded.
“He’s freaking insane for doing it. Pike acts before he thinks.”
Her instinct was to defend Pike. But hadn’t she told Pike pretty much the same thing when he gave her a ring? “I think he was trying to be a stand-up guy.”
“You’re giving him too much credit.”
She turned to him at that. “That’s not a very nice thing to say about a friend.”
Gibson smiled, dimples appearing. “Pike’s spent his whole life giving a big fuck you to anything or anyone that put expectations on him. He makes his own rules. He lives his life on gut instinct. If he got a woman pregnant, he’d do right by the kid because he’s not a dick. But he wouldn’t marry the mother because he was supposed to.”
She rubbed the chill from her arms.
“So I absolutely get it if you’re not interested in that big of a commitment with him. God knows he can be a pain in the ass,” Gibson said, affection lacing his tone. “But if you know Pike at all, you know that for better or worse, he’s all heart. Maybe he didn’t think through the logic of asking you to marry him after such a short time together. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t genuine. He loves you. And he loves your kid. And I’ve been friends with him long enough to know that once Pike Ryland loves you, it’s absolute. You’ll never find a more loyal, giving, good-hearted man than him. He’s the guy I’d call if I needed to bury a body, because he wouldn’t ask questions. He’d trust that I had good reason and bring the shovel.”
Her throat had gone tight, tears trying to fight past her defenses. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I’d help him bury a body, too, and I thought you should know the things about hi
m that he’d never say.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his head. “You should also know that he’s not going to come back and try again or push. It’s why he hasn’t reached out to his sisters again even though I know it kills him that he doesn’t have relationships with them. He doesn’t hang around where he’s not wanted.”
“I didn’t not want him,” she said, meeting Gibson’s eyes. “But look at what he’s got in front of him. He shouldn’t have to give up his dream to be with someone.”
Gibson’s smile went a little sad. “No, he shouldn’t. No one should. But maybe his dream isn’t quite what you think it is.”
“What do you mean?”
“I need to be getting back to my seat.” He pulled a small package out of the inner pocket of his jacket. “All I was supposed to be doing is giving you this.”
She took the package from him. “What is it?”
Gibson shrugged. “Not my business. He sent me the package and told me to deliver it without commentary.”
She lifted a brow. “Not one to follow rules either?”
A wry smirk touched his lips. “I never said that.”
The words seemed innocuous, but something about the way he said it had her mind going back to Pike’s vague comments about what Gibson did at The Ranch. “Oh.”
He reached out and gave her elbow a quick squeeze. “Good luck with the show.”
She thanked him and stepped around a column to get some privacy from the chatting audience. Her hands were shaking. She lifted the lid of a box and found a chain nestled inside. She pulled the silver length from the box to find a small black sparrow pendant hanging from it. She rubbed her thumb over it, surprised to find grooves. She looped the chain around her wrist and opened the card.