Cheater''s Regret

  The thought hit me like a semitruck.

  It had nothing to do with the baby.

  And everything to do with her.

  I’d wanted her from the beginning.

  And impossible as it might sound, I wanted her more now.

  Her soft moans as I made love to her were the only thing keeping me sane, keeping me from jumping off the cliff, falling to my knees, and proposing.

  It wasn’t the right time.

  That seemed to be the new motto of my life.

  But in this moment, it wasn’t because I was afraid of what my words would do.

  Until Austin, I never realized how much beauty could be found in the mess.

  We had survived this mess.

  The least I could do was give her a perfect proposal.

  Chapter Forty

  AUSTIN

  I didn’t want to dance around anything, so when I walked up to my house—the house that I was going to be moving out of as soon as this all blew over—I felt empty.

  Kind of like, the home I’d grown up in hadn’t really been a home, just a place to put my things. I’d always felt empty in this large house; I just never realized how empty until now. I expected some sort of sadness, another emotion, something. Instead, it was like I was walking up to a stranger’s house.

  Thatch’s apartment felt more like a home, and for the first time since finding out about my dad and his mom, I was justifiably sad.

  Sad that my dad had done this to our family.

  Sad that he felt the only way to cover his ass was to blame someone he should be protecting—my mother.

  And just sad all around that although I was bringing a life into the world, as far as I was concerned, if he didn’t apologize, he wasn’t going to share a part in it.

  By the time my hand reached the doorknob, I almost itched to knock. I knew he was home, because I’d texted him earlier and told him I wanted to talk.

  Mom was gone—I was meeting with her later. All she’d done was cry on the phone and apologize—like it was her fault.

  We’d talked for two hours, during which she confessed that she’d suspected my dad was having an affair for a while. And whenever she would finally work up the nerve to confront him, my dad seemed to have a sixth sense that something was wrong and would come home and bring her flowers or take her out to dinner and make everything better. She had convinced herself that he was just going through a phase.

  Poor Mom. She cried harder when she said she’d even followed him one day to his meetings.

  Ah, the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree.

  I finally realized, in that moment, that my mom kept her façade up not because she actually liked living the life where everything was a perfect illusion, but because she wanted to protect me.

  Just like Thatch.

  But sometimes, love isn’t enough. Her love for my dad wasn’t enough to keep him from cheating.

  And maybe the sick part was that my dad loved us in his own way, just not enough to put our needs above his own. I refused to love that way, with only a part of my heart. Maybe that’s why I refused to let Thatch go—he’d stolen my heart and never given it back. So I fought him for it, and I’d like to think we both won.

  I turned the knob and shivered as I took a step inside my house and saw my dad sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper.

  How many mornings had I woken up to this?

  And how many mornings had I woken up to a note saying he was already out?

  Not enough mornings where he was sitting at the table.

  And too many mornings to count—where he was absent.

  “Dad,” I croaked.

  He turned. His eyes were sad, and then a steely resolve replaced whatever else had been present. “You knew better.”

  “Wow.” I held up my hands. “I love you too?”

  “I told you that boy was trouble. Now look at him, sleeping with both my wife and my daughter.”

  It was a lie.

  I knew that.

  And so did he.

  “I know everything.” I reached for his hand.

  He jerked it back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He checked his watch. “Now, I have a meeting in a few minutes. Was there anything else you needed?”

  I took a deep breath. “Tell me the truth. That’s all I need.”

  He looked down at his coffee, then stood. “The truth is that your mother isn’t being faithful.”

  “Dad.” I felt my entire body tense, though I tried not to show it. “She isn’t cheating. You know that.”

  “No.” He shook his head wildly. “She is, that’s what everyone believes, and that’s how it’s going to stay.”

  He started walking away.

  “Is it worth it?” I said to his back. “Is being mayor? Running for public office? Is it worth losing your family over?”

  For a brief second he hung his head, and then his back straightened as he called over his right shoulder, “I do love you, baby.”

  “Prove it,” I whispered.

  His only answer was silence, and then the front door clicked shut. I didn’t cry. I wanted to. But I didn’t feel like giving him my tears.

  Instead, I waited in the tense silence and then, very slowly, went into my room and started numbly putting things in boxes.

  My childhood felt shattered and I had no idea why; it wasn’t like I had this perfect upbringing and now the rose-colored glasses had fallen to the ground and got crunched beneath his boot or something.

  A deep sadness filled me.

  And then determination.

  To be better.

  To not cheat my child out of a life full of love and happiness. I wasn’t going to give my kid gifts when I worked too late, or fun trips with his or her friends because I couldn’t take time off for a family vacation.

  When I looked around at all the pictures in my room, it was oddly reassuring that in almost every picture I was with Avery, and some even with Lucas.

  And then there was Thatch.

  The missing piece.

  I picked up an old teddy bear and tossed it in a Goodwill box.

  And then I grabbed another box that I’d been keeping in my room for when I eventually moved out, and slowly started tossing in shoes, clothes, pictures, pieces of my life that seemed worth rescuing and keeping for later, for my new life with Thatch.

  I didn’t realize I was crying until strong warm hands wrapped around my middle and tugged me down to the carpeted floor.

  Thatch held me in his lap for at least a half hour while I cried out the rest of the tears my dad had caused. When I blinked up at him, his face was soft, so beautiful.

  Let it be known that you can meet the love of your life after a one-night stand and a crazy game of Mario Kart.

  “I’m sorry.” He kissed my forehead softly and then pulled back. “Why don’t we just grab what you need, and you can finish up later.”

  Nodding, I took his hand as he helped me stand up.

  With a sheepish grin, he took a look around my room and then burst out laughing.

  “Hey! What’s so funny?”

  “You liar!” He charged toward one of my poster boards. “You knew who Enrique Iglesias was!”

  I gave him a wide-eyed innocent look and then said, “Who’s your hero, baby?”

  “That’s it.” He charged after me and then picked me up in his arms and started tickling my sides. “You said you didn’t know the song!”

  “I wanted to see,” I said, laughing, “if you would sing it!”

  “I was drunk!”

  “You were adorable.”

  “I puked all morning.”

  I scrunched up my nose. “Yeah, well, maybe not that part.”

  “You’re a horrible human being, you know that, right?” He set me down, still grinning as a piece of surfer blond hair fell across his high cheekbone.

  “You love me anyway.”

  “True.”

 
“And you really are my hero.”

  “No.” His face sobered as he brushed a kiss across my lips and then touched my stomach. “You’re mine.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  THATCH

  “I think I may puke,” Austin said at my side. She was dressed in a gorgeous black gown that hugged her every curve. It was lacy, and it was really messing with my head, since the lace gave glimpses of her creamy skin. If our driver stared at her one more time, I was going to punch him in the face.

  I’d gotten really territorial all of a sudden.

  Hell, I’d always been territorial where Austin was concerned; I’d just never wanted to act on the feeling as much as I wanted to right now.

  “You look awesome,” Avery encouraged. She was sporting a short red dress that kept hiking up enough to cause Lucas to have trouble breathing every few seconds when he looked down and did a double take.

  We decided to rent a limo to drive us to her father’s fund-raiser. Rather than hide out while news went wild. It only made sense to show our unity and strength.

  It had been a week since the news hit about me and Austin’s mom, and the fervor hadn’t died down, but without any more proof, it was all about speculation, which I’m sure was exactly what Austin’s dad wanted.

  Just enough speculation to make his wife look bad. And for him to look like the wounded party and sail into reelection.

  I patted my suit jacket for the second time that night, just to be sure what I needed was still there, and smiled when I felt the familiar shape.

  Tonight was going to be epic in more ways than one.

  The minute I helped Austin out of the limo, cameras flashed like lightning and reporters shouted questions, trying to figure out what we were doing together.

  I ignored their questions and chose to kiss Austin full on the mouth before kissing her forehead twice and looping her arm in mine.

  The cameras flashed even more.

  Avery and Lucas brought up the rear of our small group, and when we finally made it inside, I felt like a five-hundred-pound brick had been lifted off my shoulders.

  Austin’s mom was waiting for us, champagne in hand. She looked beautiful, but she wasn’t Austin. She smiled at both of us and then walked right up and linked arms with Austin as if to say, We’re a team.

  I was afraid Austin was going to cry. Instead, she held her head high as we made our way to our table.

  Where, wonder of all wonders, Austin’s dad was talking business.

  He looked ready to puke when his eyes fixated on his wife with me and Austin in tow.

  But I think the best part, the truly best part of the night, was the moment when Austin’s mom said aloud, “Honey! This is Dr. Holloway. You know, the one you sent me to for that surgery you wanted me to have?” She was talking so loudly, it was impossible not to hear her over the soft music playing. She turned toward me. “It was so kind of you to make an out-of-office visit, since I had so many privacy concerns.”

  “Any time.” I nodded. “And I have to thank you too.”

  “Oh?” Her eyebrows arched. “For what, dear?”

  “Giving me permission to date your daughter.”

  The look on Mayor Rogers’s face was absolutely priceless as his expression shifted from rage to a forced smile as he nodded at his wife and said, “Oh?”

  “Well . . .” She winked at both of us. “When you said you loved her, I was so excited that she’d finally found someone like you.”

  We had a captive audience.

  One that was eating up every word.

  And there wasn’t a damn thing Mayor Rogers could do about it.

  Lucas coughed behind me.

  “Oh, sorry, we’re going to go grab a glass of champagne.” I leaned in and kissed Austin’s mom on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  “Mayor.” I nodded toward him and held Austin as close as physically possible. “Have a good night.”

  “Oh, I intend to.” His fake smile perfectly poised, he looked ready to take another picture for the newspaper.

  “If I were you, I’d enjoy this moment.” I tilted my head to the side. “You never know what tomorrow may bring, am I right?” I forced a smug laugh while Austin’s father’s mouth twitched into what could have been mistaken for a slight frown.

  Honestly, in that moment, I felt sorry for him.

  What good was having money and popularity when you didn’t have anyone to go home to? When the reputation you’d spent your whole life building disappeared overnight? When you lost the job you’d sacrificed your family for and were left with nothing?

  He had a grandchild on the way.

  And he didn’t even know.

  And my suspicion was that even if we told him—he’d use it as a way to gain more attention and divert focus from the impending scandal.

  He whispered something in his assistant’s ear.

  It didn’t matter if he found out tonight what was going to be in the papers tomorrow. They were already printed.

  When we were out of earshot, Austin finally said, “You didn’t do it.”

  “What?” We stopped walking while Lucas and Avery slid past us to grab something to drink. “What are you talking about?”

  Austin’s blue eyes locked on mine. She was so pretty, it hurt. “You had everyone eating out of the palm of your hand, plus you had the pictures and the recording in your pocket, and you could have destroyed him.” She poked me in the chest and then frowned. “Or I mean it was right there earlier, because you kept checking your pocket, all paranoid, and then—”

  I dropped to one knee.

  Austin gasped.

  Avery held up her phone to record the whole thing as instructed while Lucas had champagne ready for our little celebration—though Austin was getting sparkling water.

  Lots and lots of water.

  And if she said yes, maybe a sip of Mountain Dew. God save me from a child as addicted to sugar as its mama.

  “Austin . . .” I reached into my jacket, slid my hand past the next day’s newspaper spilling all of the mayor’s dirty deeds to the public, and grabbed the small velvet box. “I have something to say.”

  A crowd slowly started gathering around us.

  Out of the corners of my eyes, I saw cell phones lifted, people grinning from ear to ear, and Avery either ready to pee her pants or so excited she couldn’t sit still.

  “You do?” Austin’s eyes shone with tears.

  “Yeah.” I kept the box in my hand. “But I’m a bit terrified you’re going to tell me it’s a horrible idea, that you’ve known me only three months, that we’re rushing into things. So I thought I’d tell you all the reasons you shouldn’t say yes first.”

  She frowned.

  “When I get drunk, I sing Enrique Iglesias. It isn’t pretty. But I swear, I really do want to be your hero, every single day of my life.” She wiped a tear. “I can’t stand soda, and every time you buy Mountain Dew, I swear somewhere in my body a very healthy cell just gives up and dies.” She covered her face with her hands and giggled. “I didn’t even know MoonPies existed until you—and now, whenever I look up at the moon, all I see is you. It’s a horrible idea, trying to make me so clearly obsessed with you that everything reminds me of you.” It wasn’t really a reason, but it needed to be said. “We’ve known each other three months, three whole months, part of that time we spent apart, and it was the worst four weeks of my life. I think I’d die if I ever had to endure it again.” I sighed and then kissed the palm of her hand. “I work. A lot. I argue. I hate messes. And I’m stuck in my bachelor ways.” She nodded. “I can’t ride a bike.” Someone gasped. “And yes, I really do hate ice cream.”

  Another gasp. Really, people?

  “If you want a pet, it’s going to have to be either an app on my cell phone, or it will probably die because I’ll forget to feed it.”

  “That’s true,” she whispered.

  “And most important. I broke your heart. I made you think I didn’t love you when the exact
opposite is true. My heart had trouble working properly without you, and I can’t imagine a life where I’m not able to hold this hand and wonder if our son or daughter’s hand will be exactly like it.” Tears fell freely from her eyes. “I’m hoping that my love for you trumps all the reasons we shouldn’t do this, so that when you say yes, you mean it, and then won’t overanalyze all the no’s, because I already did it for you.”

  “Yes.”

  “I wasn’t finished.”

  “You’re finished.” She tugged me to my feet and kissed me hard on the mouth. People applauded, and I still hadn’t even shown her the ring. “I love you, Thatch Holloway.”

  “I love you too, Austin Rogers.” I swallowed the lump in my throat as champagne was thrust in my face and water in Austin’s.

  “Ring.” Avery took a large sip from her glass. “Show her the ring.” She sighed. “It’s gorgeous.”

  I held out my right hand and then opened the box with my left, revealing a simple sapphire-cut two-carat diamond on a thin white-gold band.

  Austin’s eyes about bugged out of her head. “That’s—” She covered her mouth with her hands, and then I was tugging her left hand down and slipping the ring on.

  “A perfect fit,” I whispered.

  She nodded and then hugged me tightly. “When did you plan all of this?”

  “When you were in your bedroom crying, and your dad was being an asshole, I decided that it was best we start our lives together now, the right way. I love you. You love me. There was no reason not to. Besides, what better way to stick it to your dad, not by stooping to his level, but by fighting his ugly . . . with our love.”

  “You know, you’re a brilliant man.” Austin laughed.

  I raised an eyebrow. “You should probably marry me so we’ll have smart kids, and they can take care of us when we’re older.”

  “Because that’s why you get married,” came Lucas’s reply.

  I elbowed him in the ribs.

  I knew it was only a matter of time before he popped the question, mainly because I’d hijacked his ring-shopping time in order to find something for Austin.

  But what Avery didn’t know wouldn’t kill her.