“Yeah,” I said on a breath, but I still couldn’t believe what had felt like six . . . seven months with them was only two and a half. And still I wanted them to be mine. What was it Reagan had said to me in Hudson’s apartment? “Everything’s fast with us, but fast feels right when I’m with you.” Never had truer words been spoken.
SCANNING THROUGH THE last dozen or so shots I’d just gotten, I nodded to myself and looked up at my client. “Those are gonna look great, man. If you wanted to change one more time, go for it.”
It was only supposed to be an hour-long shoot, which is why I’d taken it when he called. And even though this is what I loved doing, I was glad the hour was almost up. I wanted to be with Reagan and Parker.
I walked over and started adjusting the lights while he changed, and glanced over my shoulder when I heard the side door to my studio open. My lips stretched into a wide grin when Reagan and Parker walked in.
Reagan’s eyes widened, and an apologetic look crossed her face when she looked around. “I didn’t know you had a shoot tonight.”
“Last minute.” I shrugged and pulled her in to kiss her quickly before hugging Parker. “Hey, bud! How was school?”
“It was good.” He looked past me at my client and asked loudly, “Are you going to shoot him?”
Reagan looked horrified for all of a second before a sharp laugh burst from her chest, and it took everything in me to keep from laughing with her and my client.
Bending down, I got close to Parker’s face and spoke softly. “Remember when I took pictures with you and your mom?” He nodded. “That’s the kind of shooting I’m doing.”
“Oh, yeah. That was cool.”
I smiled at him. “It was cool.”
“Well we’ll go so you can get back to it,” Reagan said as she put a hand on Parker’s shoulder to pull him back. “Are you coming over tonight?”
“I planned on it,” I said each word slowly as I judged her reaction.
“Okay, I’m exhausted from today—”
Disappointment quickly flooded my chest, but I refused to let her see it. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She laughed and placed a hand on my chest. “I meant, I’m exhausted in that I’m just going to be ordering takeout instead of cooking. Please come over.”
“Takeout sounds perfect, and maybe bed early and I’ll take care of you since you’re so exhausted . . .” I raised an eyebrow and she blushed.
“Coen,” she chastised.
“Drive safe, Duchess, I’ll see you soon.”
After a quick light-saber stabbing from Parker and a kiss from Reagan, they left my studio, and I just stood there staring at the door they’d walked through.
“I didn’t know you were married.”
I turned to look at my client and laughed awkwardly. “Uh, I’m not. That’s my girlfriend.”
He looked over at the door, and a look crossed his face like that had explained it all. “Got it! Now I don’t feel bad thinking that kid had probably been the result of the milkman.”
My face dropped and hands clenched into fists, but I forced myself to laugh again. “You ready to finish this?”
“Yeah, but, Coen . . . I wouldn’t be looking out for you if I didn’t say this.” He put his hands on his hips and looked at me like he was about to deliver the worst news possible.
I steadied myself and crossed my arms over my chest as I waited for him to continue. I still hadn’t completely ruled out punching him.
“I dated this girl for a while who had a daughter. I was cool with her kid, the girl was a total sweetheart. Next thing I know my girlfriend’s pregnant and freaking out, saying she can’t have another kid by herself. She tried so damn hard to get me to marry her before she had the baby; but that wasn’t about to happen. And thank God it didn’t. Found out after the kid was born that he wasn’t even mine. My girlfriend had to do a paternity test to find out who the father was because she had been f**king four different guys. Trying to get one of us to marry her because she wanted someone to help her raise her first kid. And she’d sworn up and down she was on the pill. I believed her, trusted her, loved her and her daughter . . .”
My forehead bunched together. “What exactly are you getting at?”
He held up his hands like he was surrendering. “I’m not trying to piss you off, and your girlfriend may be amazing. But I thought my girl had been amazing too. I’d admired how strong she was, and how she never wanted help from anyone. How she’d never let anyone into her and her daughter’s life before me. How she supported her and her daughter all by herself. It wasn’t until push came to shove that everything began unraveling, and I found out everything had been bullshit. An illusion that the four of us—hell, maybe even more—had fallen for.”
My body had locked up at some point, and I had to force myself to start breathing again. Keeping my expression blank so he wouldn’t realize he’d just explained Reagan perfectly, I stared at him for a bit longer as I tried to block the words he’d just told me, and finally shook my head. “You don’t know my girlfriend.”
“All right. I’m sorry, you’re right, I don’t. I just . . . when you said she was your girlfriend, it was like déjà vu, and I wish there’d been someone to warn me. So, I had to at least give you something to think about. I told you, she might be amazing. That was just my experience, and I felt like I needed to warn you or something. Sorry for overstepping my bounds.”