One Big Little Secret: A Secret Baby Romance (The Rory Brothers Book 2)

Have you ever fallen down the stairs?

You know that awful moment when you’re tripping.

Your foot skids off the edge or hits something that shouldn’t be there, off by mere inches, destroying your balance.

You feel the ground shift and reach out desperately for something to grab on to.

You only have a split second before your vision starts spinning—just long enough to pray it’s a short way down or for something soft to break your fall.

I’m falling in that killing slow motion right now, even though I’m perfectly still, turned to stone after I made myself look at him again.

Patton might be having a heart attack. Mouth open, eyes marbles, his healthy color turning ash-white like he’s lost ten pints of blood.

Holy hell, this was stupid.

Holy shit, I never should’ve told him.

I never meant for it to come out like this—this sudden mess that feels like an ugly furball of guilt I just coughed up.

Before I dropped the atomic bomb, I never made up my mind about how to tell him at all, and now I’ve gone and done it.

I’ve given him the truth and there’s no taking it back.

God help me.

Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut and enjoy one more evening in paradise?

He rolls off the bed and stumbles back outside, toward the pool. I think he needs oxygen, and I can’t blame him.

I follow timidly, half-afraid he’ll walk right into the water and drown.

I shouldn’t have let this long weekend go to my head.

Shouldn’t have let him steal my heart a second time.

Shouldn’t have flipping told him.

I’m breathless as he stops and whirls around to face me before he reaches the pool. In the darkness, I can’t make out his features beyond the fact that he’s pale, his eyes too dark.

“Arlo,” he says hoarsely. “My son? My son?”

There’s nothing good in his tone, just horror, heartbreak, fear.

You shouldn’t have told him you stupid, stupid idiot!

“Patton… why don’t you sit down?” I force out, taking his arm and trying to pull him to the lounger.

He doesn’t flinch away, but he won’t look at me either. It’s like he’s just waiting for an explanation I don’t have.

“Salem,” he rumbles, then stops.

He drops his head into his hands, pressing his long fingers against his face until the skin goes white.

“I just—I thought you might’ve wondered by now,” I say quietly. “Did you ever?”

From his expression, clearly not.

“I know this is a lot. I’m sorry.” I rub his back, wondering how it came to this, how I can possibly salvage this nightmare. “I never meant to tell you like this, it just kinda happened…”

“How did you mean to tell me? When did you mean to tell me?” he snaps.

His blue eyes flare, angry and different from the fire of our passion.

“I don’t know.” Maybe never. “I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” he demands again.

A fair question. Maybe the first one I’d ask, too.

The how is obvious, at least.

“Well, it’s… it’s complicated,” I manage. Worst answer ever, I know.

I press my fingers into the lounger, feeling the luxe material give way under the pressure.

He inhales sharply, staring at me again, his eyes demanding answers.

“I didn’t even know who you were until a couple months ago.”

“When you started at Higher Ends,” he finishes coldly.

“Yeah. That’s when I realized exactly who I slept with all those years ago.”

The tiniest hint of a smile curls his lips, then drops again.

His voice is strangled when he says, “I told you my name, didn’t I?”

“…we were so drunk, Patton. I thought you were just some rich guy. Just some guy with a life to get back to where a baby wouldn’t ever fit.” And I never bothered looking for him because I didn’t think he would care about the fact he’d had a son with me. “I didn’t want that kind of friction, feeling like I’m forcing it, putting a burden on you. I didn’t want my son growing up with a father who never wanted him.”

Yep. I know I sound like the lamest human being on the planet.

But my worries are valid.

After all, I’ve orbited the high life just enough to know rich people don’t like anything that comes back to haunt them. They definitely don’t like human drama hand grenades chucked into their picture-perfect lives that turn their careers and dreams into twisted shrapnel.

“The pregnancy was a shock,” I say into the silence. The dark desert beyond us feels bigger than ever. “A huge surprise, really. I had no clue one night could change my entire life so much.”

“We had sex, Salem. We were goddamned drunk.” Patton pinches his nose like he’s holding himself together. “I should have worn protection—my mistake. But you never said you weren’t on birth control.”

“Dude. I wasn’t expecting to get drunk and have a one-night stand with a stranger,” I say, my voice perilously close to losing control. “Trust me, I’ve thought about that night a whole lot more than you.”

He releases a breath through his nose. “So you didn’t know who I was. You got knocked up and you never looked for me once?”

I stare down at the cold stone under my feet.

“Maybe I should’ve tried. Everyone wanted me to. My parents spent hours interrogating me about it. And Kayla, she was ready to send my dress to a forensics lab to have it scraped for DNA…” I can feel his eyes on me, burning, but I don’t dare look at him and see the pity there. “But that’s the thing. I was never going to let them find out I got pregnant from a random hookup.”

“What did you tell them?” he asks, his voice softer.

“That the father was my deadbeat ex, this guy I dated briefly. They knew I kept my dating life pretty quiet, so it was believable. The irony is I never even slept with him, but they don’t need to know that.” I button my lips together before I reveal another truth I don’t want Patton to know: that drunken night on that casino boat was my first time.

He doesn’t need to know I was a virgin and the woman who kept his son a secret for years, all in the same freaking night.

“And Arlo? What the hell did you tell him?”

I swallow thickly.

“I haven’t…” This time, it’s my turn to put my hands over my face. “I always just told him his father was a man I met a long time ago and he went away. I always knew I’d have to come up with more than that someday. But he isn’t old enough to understand yet, not really.”

“Went away? That’s it? Fuck.” Patton cringes. I hate seeing it, but he asked for the truth. I can’t give him any less now. “You make it sound like I died.”

That boulder in my throat just keeps getting bigger.

“For all I knew, you had. And making up lies about you—that was the least of my worries. My parents, they weren’t the most understanding people…” I trail off again.

Huge understatement. My parents hated the fact that I derailed my life more than I did.

First, I hadn’t gone to college, and then I’d gotten pregnant by some strange man and wasn’t planning on marrying him.

I wouldn’t even give them his name.

I can still remember the way my mom screamed at me, her eyes bulging. We didn’t have anything like the Rory wealth, but my father was a doctor, and they were crazy social in a big city with a small-town feel where word gets around.

They couldn’t stand their only daughter being a disgrace.

“My mom told me to get rid of him,” I say quietly. “Not abortion—she didn’t believe in that—but she wanted me to give Arlo up when he was born. But I couldn’t, Patton. So they threw up their hands. They’d just retired, and they left for California. They wanted me to come with and start over, without my baby. I refused. I stayed here like an idiot.”

“Alone.” For the first time, he looks at me, his blue eyes agonized. “Yeah, fuck them.”

“…what choice did I have?” My voice turns brittle, on the cusp of breaking. “No one would stick around for Arlo but me. I wasn’t abandoning him.”

“Shit, Salem.” Patton runs his hands through his hair.

Shit’s right.

I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t shit.

“You stuck around for him, yeah. You did the right thing, but who stuck around for you?” he growls. “I wasn’t suggesting you should’ve abandoned him. I’m pissed knowing everybody else walked out on you, and I couldn’t be there.”

Oh, God.

I’m not going to cry over this.

I’m not.

Not even while my eyes are melting in their sockets and I can feel my soul bleeding out in the mess.

“It’s not… it’s not about what anyone wanted. It’s not what I wanted for myself, I guess, but I wouldn’t change anything.”

No, I take that back.

I think.

I still don’t know if I would take back telling him like this.

“I know now what I should’ve done. I should have told you sooner, as soon as I knew who you were,” I whisper. “I just didn’t want to pile more responsibility on you, especially when you clearly wanted nothing to do with us at first.”

“Goddamn,” he groans.

“And then things changed. You did want something to do with me. I got scared. I thought if I told you, it would run you off and ruin whatever it was we had.”

“You’d think that,” he says, his voice heavy. “I gave you no good reason not to.”

“I’m not blaming you,” I rush out.

“No.” His smile is a little too forced. “But it’s true.”

“Telling you something like this is a big deal. But then this weekend happened and today was so perfect, it just felt right.”

“You’ve known all this time I’m Arlo’s father,” he says numbly. “Every single time we…”

“Yes.”

“How could you stand to look at me?”

The softness in his voice makes my throat tighten.

“I don’t hold it against you. You didn’t know and that was my fault. And I didn’t tell you because I’m expecting anything. If you don’t want much to do with him now—or with me—I get it. I’m not holding you to anything.”

“Salem,” he growls roughly.

“Patton.”

He bangs his fists against his thighs, shaking his head.

“I don’t know what to say,” he snarls. “I haven’t had many girlfriends before, not serious ones, never mind a son. A family. Shit.” He laughs, raking his other hand through his hair. I reach up and smooth it back down. “I’m not being articulate right now. I’m honking at you like a fucking mule.”

“You just found out you have a little boy.” I sniff, losing one hot tear down my cheek. “I think that’s pretty understandable.”

He huffs a breath and sighs.

“It’s cold out here,” he says, almost surprised. “Wait here, okay?”

I curl up in a ball as he disappears inside. For a brief, unreasonable instant, I worry he might flee. He might hot tail it back to Kansas City, back to the busy, prestigious life he had before I came and spat in his punch bowl.

Then he’s back, handing me a white robe.

“Put it on, before you catch a cold,” he growls. “Then come the fuck here.”

Yeah, here come the tears.

“I need—” My voice breaks.

“Listen to me, you beautiful, dumb, marvelous girl.” He presses a kiss to the side of my head. “This is a lot to take in, and I’ll probably be freaking out about it all the way home. But if Arlo really is my son, I know what I want. I need to be in his life.”

“Patton—”

“And yours,” he continues. “If you’ll have me. Fair warning, you won’t keep me out easily, no matter how hard you try.”

The avalanche begins.

I’m crying like a little girl.

All because he’s just spoken words I never even dared of dreaming.

They’re not gentle tears that streak silently down my face.

They’re not soft and they’re not a relief.

I’m bawling straight ugly tears with bone-shaking sobs. Even my legs quiver with the force of my crying.

“Salem.” Patton pulls me closer, cradling me in his lap.

I’m small enough to rest against his chest, which feels like the entire world right now, this haven of him I never want to leave.

“Salem,” he whispers again. My name has never sounded more intense on his lips. “It’s okay. We’ll be okay. I’m here.”

I turn my face into his bare chest.

He smells like warmth and safety, like home, even though I’ve only been with him like this for a matter of days.

“You’re not alone anymore. I promise,” he tells me, rocking me back and forth. His hand sweeps down my hair, smoothing it against my neck.

“I… I never thought this would happen.” I hiccup embarrassingly loudly. God, I don’t know where the tears keep coming from—no human being should cry this much.

But I’m not scared and ruined anymore.

I’m happy. This is far more than I could’ve ever hoped for.

Or maybe it’s just sheer giddy relief. The sense that finally all this single mom responsibility isn’t a lonely crushing weight piled on my shoulders that just keeps grinding me into the dirt year after year.

Arlo never had the life I wanted for him, there’s no hiding that.

But now, if Patton steps up, my son might finally have dreams.

He could have a life he truly deserves.

And me, well… is it too much to think maybe I can have a fair shot at a fairy-tale?

It’s almost too much, like you’re holding a winning lottery ticket in your trembling little fingers.

“Talk to me,” Patton urges. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

I press the heels of my hands into my eyes until red streaks bloom against my eyelids. Then I shift, resting my head against his shoulder, my legs hooked over his knee.

Lying here like this, we feel like one person.

“It doesn’t seem real,” I whisper. “My parents left town when Arlo was only three months old. They gave me one more chance to give him up and join them. I told them to go to hell.”

Patton’s arms tighten around me.

“And I guess when you have to do something like that and the reality hits, it becomes all you know, right? Survival. So I learned to look after Arlo fast. I had to learn how to be a mother. And all the time, I watched as the world around me moved on. I was stuck with the label.”

“Single mom?”

I sighed. “I told myself I was glad. I laughed about it some days. Better than having a dad who’s only going to break Arlo’s poor heart, right?”

Patton doesn’t say anything, and I have to ask, even though I know it’ll be a mistake.

“If… if you’d known it at the time, would you have really stuck around?”

Again, the only sound is his steady breathing, his chest rising and falling as he considers the question. His arms tighten around me.

“Honestly, I don’t fucking know,” he says eventually. “Back then, I wasn’t the same person I am today. I’d like to think it would’ve shaken me awake.”

“You were more fun, you mean?” I tease.

“A lot more fun. Or an irresponsible fuckwit punk, as Archer liked to say.”

I laugh shakily through the tears.

It’s almost a relief, knowing I did the right thing, even inadvertently, by not knowing who he was then and trying to track him down.

“I’m damn glad you told me tonight, though,” he murmurs, his mouth grazing my ear. “Just like I’m glad you want me in your life, and Arlo’s.”

Yeah.

This weekend has taught me I don’t know how not to want this man with every fiber of my being.

“I’m just amazed you want to be part of it. It’s like being invited to swim around in a swamp.”

“I’m addicted.” It’s a confession and seduction all at once. The only thing I can focus on is the way his breath feels so good against the shell of my ear. “I’m addicted to waking up beside you. I’m addicted to this.”

This time, our kiss feels like coming home.

My feelings are too tangled to sort out and too overwhelming to understand. There’s just this pulsing urge under my skin that speaks louder than any words.

I want him.

I need him.

I crave him, all mixed with the blinding knowledge that he’s the father of my child.

He wants to be Arlo’s father.

All those bittersweet moments, all the times when I thought we’d be a party of two forever—are those days really done?

“You’re crying again.” Patton breaks away and wipes my cheeks.

“I know, I know. Sorry.” I scrub my face, still half laughing, half crying. “I am happy, I promise, despite all the evidence to the contrary.”

“You haven’t told me to fuck off or where to mail the child support check, so I believe you,” he says with a wry smile. “Despite the evidence to the contrary.”

“But we should talk more about it,” I say. “About us, I mean. At home. We can hash out the practical stuff.”

“Oh, so you do want me to mail that check?”

“Be serious!” I slap his chest.

“If you insist.” His grin feels fragile, fading like a dimming lightbulb. “What do you want to ask me?”

“I just mean, if we’re going to figure out a way to make this work, we need to organize it. You’re still my boss and Arlo has no idea you exist.”

“Wrong. He knows I exist,” he counters. “The little man thinks I’m a fire-breathing monster in a suit.”

“He did.” I snort. “Now he thinks you bring supervillains to justice.”

“Much better.”

I sigh contentedly.

Just like before, the sky looks diamond studded, brighter and calmer over the desert. I can appreciate the majesty and the splash of the Milky Way reaching down like it wants us to know the universe approves of my confession.

“We won’t tell anyone. Not at first. We’ll figure it out,” he says. “We can settle into normal life.”

“But together?”

“As together as I can physically arrange.”

I have other thoughts—other considerations—specifically about how we’re going to handle spending time together as a couple without constantly sending Arlo to the babysitter, and what his family will say if we reveal we’re dating.

“What about you?” he asks, toying with my hair. “Will we have to break the news to your folks?”

“Um, which part—that Arlo’s father is fantastically rich or that we’ve reconnected? It’s not a big concern. I still don’t talk to my parents much.” I wince. Reconnected sounds like we had more than a fling to begin with. But Patton doesn’t seem to notice.

“Both?”

“You’re not even going to protest my use of fantastically rich?”

“Call me egotistical, but that’s not too far from the truth.”

“That does sound egotistical.”

He drops a kiss on the end of my nose. “Sounds like I need someone with their feet on the ground to call me out when I’m being an ass.”

“An egotistical ass.”

“See? Archer will love you.”

I laugh and burrow into his arms. He wraps his robe around me, too, and I wish I could linger here all night.

“But in all seriousness, my family kinda imploded. We’ve never had a holiday or visit since they walked out of my life. Mom dances around trying to make amends, and so do I,” I say, and although he doesn’t move, I can feel the mood change. “That’s the choice they made when they left.”

“Probably better I don’t know their names,” he says sharply. “Otherwise, I might be tempted to pay them a little visit and talk some sense into them.”

I wince.

“Er, yeah, let’s not. Maybe stick to romantic gestures like flowers?” I wiggle around so I’m facing the hard look in his eyes. “I mean it, Patton. I’m okay without getting them involved. We’ll cross that bridge if and when we ever need to.”

“You’re okay now,” he agrees. “And not because of them.”

“Flowers, Patton. Don’t forget.”

He releases the tension in his shoulders with a sigh. “Fine. But you’ve got to admit it’s tempting.”

“Almost as tempting as never seeing them again.”

He gives me a reluctant smile and kisses me again.

“If you want a family, mine will be there in a heartbeat,” he says. “They’ll love you to death. And when we tell my mother—which doesn’t have to be right away—she’ll be stoked to have another grandkid. Dex will be pissed I got there before him.”

I smile. “She must love your nephew. Archer’s? Is there a wife too?”

“The mother left a long time ago now. That’s a fucked up story for another time. I can’t even remember her name some days.” His nose wrinkles. “Besides, he’s too old for her to play around with the same way. Arlo, he’s perfect.”

Just hearing Patton say that sends warmth shooting through my veins.

“We’re going to have to ease him into this, you know,” I say carefully.

“That’s fine. It’ll take me some adjusting too.”

“And me three. But in a good way.”

“Only good ways,” he echoes.

I close my eyes and listen to the sound of his heart, which has slowed over the course of this conversation.

Can life really be this simple? Can I really escape the dark cloud that’s always been hanging over me?

It doesn’t feel real, knowing Patton Rory is accepting Arlo with open arms. Much less me as his—

Whatever.

Whatever we are.

I don’t dare define it yet.

But maybe, in the future, if it ever gets that far, maybe we can be a family.

Maybe the day will come when I won’t have to always temper my hopes and dread the next disaster.

And maybe I won’t scare him off in the next five minutes by squealing with joy and kissing his face off.