Cheater's Regret (Curious Liaisons #2)

I was too excited to sleep.

By the time eight a.m. rolled around, Austin was still sleeping, and I was trying to make coffee without dropping cups and running into walls. I was dead on my feet and so thankful I had taken the day off.

With a yawn, I was just getting ready to grind some coffee when a hard knock sounded at my door.

I knew that knock.

Just like I knew who would be on the other side.

And suddenly the tension was back in my shoulders as I rigidly made my way toward the door and opened it, expecting to see the usual—my father, red-rimmed eyes, swaying unsteadily on his feet, smelling like whiskey, and shouting about how my mom and I ruined his life.

Instead, I found my dad.

Completely.

Stone-cold.

Sober.

Showered.

Dressed.

He looked like the dad I remembered. His hands shook as he held out a newspaper and pointed at it. “You did this?”

Shit.

“Yeah.” I swallowed the guilt and pushed it away completely. “It needed to be done.”

“Closure,” he said after a few minutes. “I finally feel like we have closure. I thought—” His eyes watered. “I was so angry for so long. I pushed for the divorce and settlement, thinking it would make her realize how much she needed me, needed us. Then I thought if I protected her, she’d come back, she’d see that I didn’t expose her, that I was better for her and that he was using her.” He choked on a sob and then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done.”

“It is,” I whispered. “It’s finally out in the open.”

“I shouldn’t have cheated on her. I loved her. I was . . .” He locked eyes with me. “Thatch, I’m a weak man. I can’t promise to be better, but I’m going to try.”

“Care to start now?” a soft voice said from behind me.

Austin looked gorgeous in a soft white silk robe and her pin-striped shorts with one of my old V-neck shirts just barely covering her breasts.

My dad nodded and then spoke a simple “Yes.”

“We’re pregnant,” she said immediately. “You’re . . .” Her eyes glowed. “You’re going to be a grandpa.”

I’d never seen my dad cry. But the old man broke, there was no other way to put it, as he fell to his knees and sobbed.

Maybe because the situation was so close to him.

A family.

One that wasn’t broken, but was getting a fresh start.

And me, a carbon copy of him, so close to the man he could have been.

The father he could have been.

When he wiped his tears, he got to his feet and asked, “If—if I get better, would it be possible to help deliver your baby?”

“Of course,” I said without asking Austin. I knew she wouldn’t want it any other way.

“I think we’ll have to ask the hospital, though, just to make sure.” Austin smiled brightly.

My dad let out a low chuckle.

I followed.

And then we were both laughing.

I’d forgotten how private I’d kept my life, from everyone, but especially from her.

“Baby, you’re looking at the former surgical director of neonatal research at UW—there’s a wing dedicated to my dad at the U hospital. He retired last year.”

Austin’s jaw dropped. “You’re, but you’re—”

“It was a rough year,” my dad finally said, then mumbled, “Hell, it was a rough ten years. But I could deliver a baby with my eyes closed.” He glanced at me. “Then again, so could Thatch. The only reason he went into plastics was to piss me off.”

“Partial truth,” I corrected. “I like plastics. It’s always interesting, and I’m not owned by my job the same way you were.”

“And you like pissing me off.” The old man wrapped an arm around Austin. “He was at the top of his class at UW, primed and ready to go into neonatal just like his old man, but one day he came home, and all you need to know is, I think what he saw pushed him over the edge . . .” My dad’s voice softened. “Well, it was just as much my fault as his mother’s that he wanted nothing to do with us.”

Austin listened while I went to make the coffee I had started brewing before we were interrupted.

I don’t even know how long they talked.

But when my dad finally left, saying that he needed to go think, it was close to noon.

“So?” Austin’s eyebrows shot up. “Where do you want to start?”

I sighed and leaned back against the couch. “I didn’t want to take his money. It felt like hush money or something you give someone instead of love because it’s easier, which is horrible, right? It was easier for him to write a check than give me what I’d always wanted, a hug, a high five, anything that said he was proud of me, or that he cared. But he was so stuck in his own misery, and I didn’t want to follow in his footsteps because his being a cheater was what destroyed my mom, our family. I just—I wanted something different.”

“You wanted boobs,” Austin said in a serious voice. “Admit it.”

I burst out laughing. “Yes, Austin, I wanted tits, and to think all this time, I would have been satisfied with just yours! Would have saved me a lot of money.”

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine.” She winked.

I tugged her foot and pulled her over to my side of the couch. “Maybe, but I should probably take a look at them just in case. You know, nipples can be very sensitive during pregnancy. I would hate for you to . . . suffer in silence.”

“I’m not suffering.”

“I think I see a tear.” I ignored her. “Baby, just let me take care of you.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“Acting out is another symptom of nipple tenderness, it’s in the manual.”

“Hmm, is it right next to a picture of Enrique?”

“Low blow!” I started tickling her.

She started singing at the top of her lungs, and I silenced her with a deep kiss. “Are you going to kiss away my pain?” she belted out the second I drew back.

I pressed my hand across her mouth. “That’s enough.”

Naturally, she just kept singing against my fingertips.

“Want a MoonPie?”

She stopped singing and then narrowed her eyes and gave me a thumbs-down when I pulled my hand away. “Well played, fiancé, well played.”

Fiancé.

I grinned so huge, I probably looked terrifying.

Austin crawled into my lap and straddled me with a knee on each side of my body. “You sure look pleased with yourself.”

“I’m seventy percent pleased.”

She frowned. “Why only seventy percent?”

I ran my hands up and down her sides, then very slowly started peeling down her little shorts until my thumbs reached her hips. “I think you know why.”

“Nope. No idea.”

“You’re killing me here.” I moved my hands beneath her shirt and groaned when I came into contact with her breasts. Perfect. So damn perfect.

Her moan joined mine as she ground against my erection.

“Fine, you win.” She peeled her shirt over her head and then stood and tugged her shorts down.