Page 39 of Breathtaking

“Don’t worry, Maddox. I don’t want anything from you. I just wanted you to know and thought I owed it to you to do it in person and not over the phone. But apparently, that was a mistake.” She pulls her phone from her purse, and her fingers fly across the screen before I can even register what she’s doing. “This doesn’t have to change anything.”

She turns to leave, and I see fucking stars.

“This changes everything, Lennon.” My words are slow and steady and strong. There’s no hesitation. “You can’t throw something like this at me and then be pissed when I don’t react the way you wanted. Give me a fucking minute.”

This beautifully infuriating woman looks over her shoulder and purses those pretty lips I’ve been obsessed with for fucking years. “That might be the only thing I’m not pissed about, Maddox. I didn’t handle it well when I found out either. Which, by the way, was only last week. I literally caught a flight hours after my doctor confirmed it, because unlike you, I respect you enough to be honest. You should try it. See how it feels. Either way, I’ll be at the hotel in Kroydon Hills for a few days if you want to talk.”

She takes a step before she stops again.

“I’m fine, by the way. So is the baby.”

Shit.

I watch her cross the tarp-covered floors and walk up the steps like the Princess Royal she was raised to be. Her shoulders back and her head held high. And then I see the way Maria looks at me before following Lennon. Like I’m a bug she’d like to squash.

Get in line.

MADDOX

Maddox

Hey, man. You home?

Callen

Wanna tell me why the fuck you’re texting me from my driveway?

Maddox

Didn’t want to wake the baby.

Callen

Don’t worry about it. She’s on a sleep strike.

Stop stalking like a little creep and come inside. You’ve got a key.

I open my best friend’s door, and immediately, he puts my beautiful niece in my arms. Anastasia is four months old and the spitting image of my sister. Shocking jet-black hair, big beautiful blue eyes, and the palest, prettiest skin covering all the fat rolls on her chubby body. “Hey,piccolina.” I hold her above my head and blow a raspberry on her belly and smile as she giggles.

Man, that’s a great sound.

“Who’s your favorite uncle?” I cradle her in my arms and let her wrap her fist around my finger and bring it to her mouth. “Uncle Maddox. Not the other boneheads, right? Just Uncle Maddox.”

“Dude. Get your finger out of her mouth until you wash your hands. Who the fuck knows where it’s been?” Callen groans, and I hand Anastasia back to him and walk into the kitchen to wash my hands.

“Did Callen yell at you?” my sister asks as she pulls breaded chicken cutlets from the oven and lays them over a bed of arugula and tomatoes.

“Yeah. I did,” Callen answers as he walks in behind me. “Wash your hands so you can hold her. I’m hungry, and you’ve been slacking on your godfatherly duties, dickhead.”

Caitlin kisses my cheek and sets the dish on the kitchen table before she pulls out an extra plate. “You hungry? I made plenty.”

“No thanks, Cait.”

I wash and dry my hands, then hold them in front of Callen like a doctor waiting to glove up until he passes the baby back to me, grumbling something about hot water and thirty seconds, like it’s the first time I’ve ever held my niece.

“Suit yourself.” She sits down and makes herself a plate. “So what’s going on, big brother?”

I look from her to Callen. “Kind of wanted to borrow your husband for a bit.”

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