“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 f**k 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 a**hole 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 f**king 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.”
Chapter Twenty
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 f**king 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 f**k 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.
Throughout all this, he kept thinking of her—her smile, her laugh. Kept remembering the night out by the lake, when anything and everything had seemed possible. He wanted a lifetime of nights like that. With her. If the people inside that house were the only thing keeping him from it, then he had to take them on.
He got out of Brian’s truck, jaw set with determination as he followed his friend to the front door. He’d had enough confrontation in his younger years that he tried to avoid it now…but dammit, this was his future at stake. His family. How dare they try to keep him away from that? What gave them the right?
He continued the mental psych-up as he and Brian took the brick steps leading up to the massive front door two and three at a time.
Then Brian was flinging the door open and bellowing, “Hello!” while Ian stalled at the threshold. Cheerful greetings answered Brian’s call from within.
“Dude.”
Brian looked back at him. “What are you, a fuckin’ vampire? You’re my guest. Enter.” He swept his arm toward the interior.
Sighing, Ian walked into the blissfully cool house, realizing how much the back of his neck was burning…and then he looked around in awe. It seemed to be a European country style, tasteful with muted colors, dark shiny wood and beautiful iron work. Jesus, just when he’d been feeling a little confident, he had to walk into this palace. This was where she’d grown up, wasn’t it? This was what she was used to. This was what he could never give her.
“What’s the matter with you?” Brian asked.
“This is beautiful.”
“Man, f**k this house. Come on.”
Leave it to him to put the matter into perspective. Anyway, this was it. Brian headed in the direction of the voices. Ian could hear them all, chatting and laughing, the bubbly babbling of a toddler ringing above the adult conversation. Holy shit, they were at dinner, weren’t they? What the hell was Brian dragging him into?
A pretty, dark-haired woman appeared in the arched doorway of what was apparently the dining room, pausing in uncertainty when she saw Ian but then rushing ahead to give Brian a hug. “Hey, you! Where’s that pretty wife of yours?”
Brian returned her embrace, then jerked his thumb in Ian’s direction. “You’ll have to settle for him. Not as pretty, but he’s good for a laugh sometimes.”
She gave him a light smack on his arm, then extended her hand in Ian’s direction. “He’s so bad. Kelsey Ross.”
He shook it. “Ian Rhodes.”
Kelsey’s assessing gray eyes widened and her grip on his hand tightened, fused to his, he supposed, by her surprise. “Oh! Oh, you’re…oh!”
Brian scoffed. “Well spoken, Kels.”
“Shut up, Brian. I’m sorry, Ian, it’s just that…yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s so nice to meet you!”
“Same here.” She seemed genuine, so he hoped Brian had been correct. A little black-haired boy appeared at Kelsey’s legs, holding his arms up to her. But Brian promptly scooped him up and turned him upside down while he squealed in delight.
“Where’s Alex?” Brian asked, looking around in mock confusion. “I can’t find him.”
“Here, Bi!” the kid cried happily, while Kelsey shook her head. Laughing, Brian turned him upright again and gave him a high-five. “My nephew, Alex,” he said to Ian.
“He loves his Uncle Bi,” Kelsey said, reaching forward to tame Alex’s black mop of hair.
Brian gave Ian a death look. “If you tell Ghost he calls me Bi, I swear to Christ I will fire you.”
Ian grinned. “I’ll just file that away for future reference.”
“Good idea,” Kelsey agreed. “Ian, you’ve met everyone except Evan, right?”