Page 12 of Baby By my Best Friend's Daddy

“I’ll see you there.”

He left, and I walked around my chic desk and sat down. I opened my email. Despite Stanton leaving me a message, my inbox was flooded with emails from him. I groaned again and picked up my phone, dialing Catherine’s number.

“Are you busy?” she asked.

“I should be, but we can talk. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just fine. I wanted to talk to you about Brad.”

“Ah.” It had been years since Catherine and I had to talk about Brad as parents. Since he’d turned eighteen, we’d backed off more and more, letting him live his own life and make his own choices, but he was still our son.

“I’m worried about him,” Catherine said.

“Why?”

“He’s so lonely. He’s twenty-eight, Landon. He hasn’t even found a girl he got remotely serious with. Do you think he’s okay?”

“I think he’s doing alright,” I said. “He hasn’t found the right woman yet. It’s better he waits for her than rushing into something, and he ends up unhappy or divorced.”

“Yeah…”

I knew she was thinking about what had happened between us. So was I. Catherine and I hadn’t been right for each other. We’d realized it a little too late—Brad had already been born—but we’d figured it out. I didn’t want the same for Brad. I wanted him to have his happily ever after.

“I just wish he would find someone he can share things with. What about that Rebecca girl?”

My ears pricked up at that. “What about her?”

“Do you think they’ll get together? They’re always hanging out, and she’s such a sweet thing.”

A pang of jealousy shot through my chest, and I flashed to a night, about a year ago now, where she’d been pinned beneath me, writhing and gasping in pure ecstasy.

“I don’t think so. They’re close, but he always tells me she’s like a sister to him.”

“Maybe he’ll start seeing things differently if you mention it to him.”

“Mention what to him?” I asked with a frown.

“That she might be a good match. You think she would be a good match, don’t you?”

“I don’t know… is she really good enough to marry a Leggatt?”

Catherine gasped. “Don’t even start with that. You’re trying too hard to be a snob when you’re not. You’ve never cared about social status or bloodlines.”

She was right. That wasn’t what the problem was at all.

The problem was me. I hoped that Brad and Rebeccawouldn’tget together.

I’d felt something with her—something I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Not that it mattered, I guess. It had just been a one-night stand. We hadn’t talked about it since, and I’d only seen her in passing.

It wasn’t like she could become anything to me. She was Brad’s best friend.

That night should never have happened.

But it did.

“I’ll talk to him, see where his head’s at,” I said.

“Thank you. He’ll listen to you. You’re closer to him than I am.”

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