Cherrie Lynn - Take Me On

Hearing those words—as if he didn’t already know their truth—was too much. “How in the fuck am I supposed to do that?” he demanded, and Brian actually tilted his head back at the savagery in his voice. Ian was surprised to hear it himself. But that emptiness that had been gnawing its way deeper into his chest…it was reaching some vital part of him, and he feared every day he was about to lose it. Maybe this was it. “Jesus Christ, man, your family thinks I’m only after her for her money, or to fuckin’ mooch off her after she becomes a doctor. How am I supposed to deal with her having to give up everything she’s working toward just to be with me? It’s best for her and our kid if she achieves her dream. I can’t be a part of it right now. I’m willing to accept it if it keeps her on the right track. She needs you guys. She doesn’t need me.”

“She told you about all that?”

“I got it out of her.”

At least he apparently had an ally—Brian looked as if he were itching to hit something. “Goddamn, man. Look, I’m sorry. I know how you feel. I’ve been there—”

“Then how the fuck did you fix it?”

“It’s still not fixed. But I had information Candace’s parents didn’t want brought to light, so they tolerate me. I hate it. I still do, but she’s worth it.”

“I don’t have anything I can threaten your family with, unless you have a dark secret you’d like to divulge.” He gave Brian a crooked grin to show he was only joking. Sort of.

“Nothing like that, but I can tell you this: never underestimate the power of a good old-fashioned ass-kissing, dude. It’s worked with my old man more times than I care to admit. My mom…she’s a little tougher, but he can usually bring her around if you can get him on your side.”

“Yeah, but you’re his son. I’m just the indigent asshole who knocked up his daughter.”

“Look, they can’t want Gabby alone and miserable. If a solution were presented, they’d jump on it. I guarantee it.”

“I can’t present one. I can’t snap my fingers and have a trust fund fall out of the sky.”

“Believe it or not, I doubt this has much to do with money. It’s more about, I don’t know, ambition. They hated me being a tattoo artist when I worked in that little hole downtown. Fucking hated it. But once they learned I wanted to have my own studio, though, and that I was serious about it, they calmed down, helped me get established. It’s all about your work ethic.”

“I don’t have any way to show them that.”

“You’ve damn sure been showing me. And I know you want more than this. I think for you this has always been something you just happened to fall into, and you were good at it, so you stuck with it. You like it, but it’s not your passion.”

“Yeah.” Brian was right about that. But Ian’s passions always had a way of getting doused…by life, by circumstances…by other people. He was fucking tired of sitting around and letting it happen.

His passion…right now, it was Gabriella. It was the thought of being a father. Again, he was sitting on his hands, watching it slip away, and afterward…afterward, he would blame the Rosses, he would blame the distance, he would blame everyone and everything except himself.

Lifting his gaze to Brian, he had only one plea. He could do this. He knew he could…but not without help. “Help me reach them.”

A grin spread across Brian’s face. “All you had to do was ask.”

If she and Mark were going to make any progress tonight—whatever that might entail—Gabby knew she was going to have to get in a better mood. As she dressed for the evening, she tried to shift gears back to the time they were dating. The excitement she’d felt before every night out with him, thinking she might’ve found The One, and later, the peace and happiness of knowing, just knowing , that she had.

The effort only worsened her mood. She could have all of that again, if she would only take it. So what was the problem?

The problem was three hours away. The problem was tall and tattooed and built, and his child, their child, grew in her belly.

Gabby turned sideways and studied her reflection in the full-length mirror hanging in her bedroom, smoothing her hands down her stomach. The little black dress she’d chosen was more flowy than fitted and camouflaged her almost nonexistent pooch—but then, most of the items in her closet would at this point.

Ian had seemed to want this so much. Why was he pulling away now? She wished she hadn’t told him what her parents thought about the whole situation, but should it really matter that much?

He might not like the idea of moving back here and living with roommates, as he’d said. Well, poor baby. She hadn’t wanted to move back here and be alone. She’d had to suck it up, though, and if he cared about her, really cared, he would do the same.

Never in her life had Gabriella Ross been desperate. Never. Not even when Mark had left her under a ton of humiliation. She’d been furious, she’d been heartbroken, but never desperate. She could almost hate Ian for making her feel this way, for making absolute anguish churn in her gut at the thought of the night ahead and what it might mean for a future with the father of her child.

Could Mark really love this baby like his own? What did that mean for Ian’s place in the baby’s life? Hell, had Mark ever loved her ?

In less than twenty minutes, Mark would be knocking on her door—she could only recall once that he hadn’t been on time, but he hadn’t shown up at all then. There was time for one last attempt before she gave herself over to this. Grabbing her phone, she called Ian.

It began to ring, and she counted her heartbeats between those pulses of sound in her ear. She counted more between each ring.

“Hey, this is Ian. Speak.” Beep.

She disconnected just as a knock sounded at her door.

Punctual as always. Nerves flittered about in her belly, beginning to replace everything else. Maybe Ian was busy with a client, maybe he was asleep, maybe he’d had enough and skipped town completely. Maybe he was at the fucking bar. Maybe that wasn’t Mark but Ian standing outside knocking on her door. Ha!

Fact was, she practically sat on top of her phone waiting to hear from him, even in class if it were at all possible. She hated herself for it. Especially now.

That he didn’t afford her the same devotion should be all the answer she needed.

She gave herself one last look in the mirror and, satisfied, headed for the door, determined to open it to another possibility.

“Oh yeah,” Brian said casually from the driver’s seat of his truck. “I forgot my brother is in for the weekend.”

Ian had already been staring slack-jawed at the magnificent house since it came into view—now he focused on the sleek black SUV sitting in the circular drive. “The lawyer.”

“Yep. Dude. You get to take on the whole congregation.” He laughed merrily. “This is gonna be epic.”

Dropping his head back and grinding the heels of his hands into his closed eyes, Ian groaned. “You’re deliberately setting me up for failure, aren’t you?”

“It’ll be all right. I got your back.”

Was that a good thing? Wasn’t Brian kind of the black sheep of his family? He might not be the most effective ally in this particular battle.

“Besides,” Brian went on, “his wife, Kelsey? She’s cool. He’s kind of an ass sometimes, but it’s the opposite deal from my parents. Win her over, and she’ll bring him around.”

“Thanks for the tip. I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to say. To anyone.”

Brian braked to a halt, and Ian’s phone took that particular moment to ring—shit! Gabby. He couldn’t talk to her right now. If he told her what he was up to, she might get her hopes up—worse, she might tell him not to bother. Because odds were he was going to do more harm than good. He’d be lucky if he didn’t get run off with a shotgun. Too bad her parents weren’t the old-fashioned kind to push for a wedding in these situations. He would go grinning all the way.