Wicked Ever After Page 6

  Daddy didn’t mean to rub at her sore spot, but even thinking about Pierce made her ache. “No.”

  “Do you regret your decision?”

  If Pierce had come home from his last-minute mission, adequately explained why he’d killed his father, embraced their coming baby, and vowed to love her for the rest of her life, Daddy would still have pressured her to give him up. But she would have refused for the man she loved.

  Instead, except for that blistering kiss, Pierce hadn’t been able to get away from her fast enough. And since then, he hadn’t given her any indication that he’d missed her one bit.

  Brea tried to tell herself that she was better off without him. Her heart wasn’t listening.

  “No.”

  With Cutter gone to California babysitting some starlet these past four days, she hadn’t heard any secondhand news about what Pierce was doing at work or whether he’d asked about her. Whatever Cutter was up against in La La Land must be intense because it was unlike him not to text or call for days.

  “Brea? Did you hear what I asked?”

  She hadn’t. “I’m sorry. Would you mind repeating it?”

  “I asked if you’re still in love with him.”

  Even if Pierce didn’t love her; that’s what Daddy meant. Of course she did, but that’s not what he wanted to hear. “It doesn’t matter. He’s gone and I doubt he’s coming back, so you got your wish.”

  Regret crossed her father’s face. “I never wanted you to be brokenhearted, just for you to see this man as he really is.”

  “Can we talk about something else?” Or she would get angry at how little Daddy understood her. Pierce’s feelings not being genuine didn’t make hers less real. She’d heal…eventually. But she was too raw for this conversation. “How’s the prep for the Thanksgiving feast at the church going and what can I do to help?”

  “It’s fine, and I don’t need you to do anything. Jennifer has things under control.”

  Brea reared back. “Jennifer? I’ve organized that every year since—”

  “You were twelve, yes. But this year when the planning started, you seemed distracted.” He frowned. “Honestly, I’m glad your last appointment this evening cancelled so we could talk. I’m worried about you.”

  She tried not to freeze up. “Other than being upset, I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? You’re looking awfully pale these days.”

  “Not surprising. My summer tan has definitely faded,” she quipped.

  “Seems like you’re tired, too. All the time. Have you seen Dr. Rawson?”

  “Daddy, he’s a pediatrician.” But Brea still saw him for most things because he was local and he knew her so well, and she was sidestepping the question.

  “All right, then. Any other doctor you’ve been seeing?”

  Had he somehow figured out that she’d met with the obstetrician in Lafayette that the clinic had recommended? She’d tried so hard to be discreet.

  “I just neglected to take my vitamins for a few months, and you know how I get anemic. I’m back on them now.” All true…but it felt like a tremendous lie.

  “You’ve been in Lafayette a lot lately. Why?”

  “Just trips to the beauty supply…” She struggled for more of the truth. “And since Cutter is out in Cali, I stopped by his place yesterday to make sure everything was all right.”

  Not that he’d asked her to, but after seeing the female doctor and talking about her baby—taking video as she’d heard the heartbeat for the first amazing time—being in any way near her best friend brought her comfort.

  Daddy’s eyes narrowed. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  She hated lying to him. Eventually she would have to come clean about her pregnancy…but not until she’d decided her next course of action. Not until she felt sure her father’s heart could take it. “No.”

  Daddy didn’t look convinced. “I heard you up early this morning.”

  “Couldn’t sleep.” That was the truth. Morning sickness had jolted her from bed and sent her charging for the bathroom. She’d barely managed to get the door shut and land in front of the toilet before her stomach had given way.

  “I thought I heard you throwing up.”

  Her heart started to pound. If he’d heard her retching, she wouldn’t be able to talk him out of it. “I, um…got home late from the salon last night. I ate cereal for dinner, and I think our milk has gone bad.”

  He raised a graying brow. “Really? I had cereal this morning and I felt just fine.”

  “Huh.” She shrugged. “Must have been something else. Maybe I caught a bug.”

  Daddy pushed his plate aside and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Are you sure? I noticed you’ve been skipping breakfast a lot. This morning wasn’t the first I’ve heard you throwing up.”

  Panic rose, and she tried to stamp it down. “Stress isn’t good for my appetite or my stomach.”

  “What’s got you worried?”

  “Your health, Daddy. Always your health. Things are a little crazy at the salon and…and the holidays are coming up. And I’ve missed Cutter since he’s gone.”

  Her father nodded like he heard every word she said—and he didn’t believe a single one. “Listen to me, Brea Felicity. If there’s something you want to tell me—”

  “Cutter and I are thinking about getting married,” she blurted to cut him off.

  After ten days of thinking through her options, she didn’t see many others that didn’t lead to giving up her home and family. She’d eventually have to tell Daddy she was expecting, and he would undoubtedly do the math. Hopefully, his health would be more stable then so he could better weather the shock.

  That stopped his questioning instantly. “He proposed?”

  “Yes.”

  Her father frowned. “When?”

  “A few days before he left for Cali. I’ve been thinking about it since.”

  “I thought you two were just friends.”

  “Well…” Think fast… “He hasn’t met anyone else he’d like to marry, but he’s thirty. He’s ready to settle down.”

  “First I’m hearing of that.”

  “And the time I spent with the man I’d been seeing convinced me that you’re right; no one else will ever be as good to me as Cutter. So we started talking about getting hitched.”

  “Do you want to be married to Cutter?”

  Brea tried not to squirm in her seat. “We both think the time to be sensible has come. I just need to let him know that I’m saying yes.”

  If there was one thing Daddy appreciated, it was a well-measured response. This one would hopefully set him at ease.

  To her surprise, he scowled. “I never meant to give you the impression you should marry for any reason other than love.”

  “I know, but Cutter and I both think getting married seems like the logical, adult choice.”

  “Hmm,” Daddy mused. “How’s that going to work?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “In Corinthians, Paul tells us one of the reasons for marriage is to avoid fornication. Cutter loves you, but not in a…carnal way. So if he’s marrying you to avoid succumbing to temptation…”

  “We both know there will be an…adjustment.”

  “A huge one.”

  She acknowledged her father with a nod. “Neither of us expects our feelings to morph overnight. But Genesis tells us that it’s not good for man to be alone, so God made him a helpmate. In Cutter’s case, that’s me.”

  “He’s been managing his own cooking and laundry for years. Why does he need a helpmate now?”

  Brea dropped her silverware on her plate in frustration. The clatter lent her bravado. “What do you want, Daddy? We’ve decided to move forward together because we’re both lonely, we trust each other, and it makes sense. I was hoping you’d be happy for me. There’s no groom on the planet I can imagine you approving of more, yet you’re still questioning me?”

  He held up both hands. “You�
��re right. I love Cutter like a son, and I hope he makes you happy. But your heart is tangled up elsewhere, and I want to be sure you’re not making this decision to please me or Cutter—or anyone else—at your own expense.”

  Her problems were so much bigger than that. “We’ll find ways to be happy together.”

  “I want that for you more than anything. And I don’t mean to question you.” He leaned forward. “You know the problem fathers have?”

  She shook her head. “What?”

  A faint smile crossed his face. “They never want to admit their little girls have grown up. And despite what you may think, I’m proud of you.”

  He wouldn’t be proud of her if he knew this conversation was built on so many lies…

  “Thanks, Daddy.” Brea tried not to get choked up, but it was hopeless.

  “Hey.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Don’t cry. Weddings are a happy occasion. Once that boy comes back from California and asks me for your hand, we’ll have a celebration.”

  “He will.” They hadn’t talked about it specifically, but Daddy wanting to give his blessing wouldn’t surprise Cutter.

  “So when’s the big day? We have to start planning, after all.”

  “We haven’t decided.” But they couldn’t afford to wait long.

  “Well, I’m sure we’ll get all the details worked out.”

  She nodded, but she couldn’t stop feeling as if she wouldn’t be planning her wedding so much as burying her future.

  Friday, November 14

  Brea gripped the toilet and retched again. Blasted morning sickness. She was nearly in week fifteen of her pregnancy. When the devil would it end?

  This morning, she’d turned on her music in the bathroom, hoping it would disguise the sounds of her sickness, but Daddy was likely awake. What if he could hear her? How many more well-meaning lies would she have to tell him to keep her secret?

  It was already too many.

  After rising weakly from the floor, she flushed the toilet, washed her hands, and rinsed her mouth. The nausea wasn’t done with her yet; she knew that from experience. But after so much upheaval, her body felt weak.

  She stumbled back to bed and grabbed her phone off her nightstand along the way. Five forty a.m.

  Tears stabbed at her eyes. It had been nearly two weeks since she’d seen Pierce. She so badly wanted to call him, hear his gruff voice, confess how much she missed him. Tell him she still loved him. In her fantasy, he would say he loved her, too. Then she would confess they were having a baby, and he would be so happy, apologize for everything, propose instantly, and sweep her away to their happily ever after.

  Brea shook her head at her own absurdity. Pierce had played her, and she’d loved him so much—or at least the man she’d believed him to be—that she had let him.

  Finally, she’d ripped off her rose-colored glasses and resolved to face her future with eyes wide open.

  She scrolled up from Pierce’s contact and dialed Cutter instead. She couldn’t put this off anymore.

  He answered on the third ring. “Bre-Bee? You okay?”

  “Hi, Cutter.” She could hear her own voice shaking, but she was determined to forge ahead.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I haven’t heard from you. Everything all right there? Your starlet a problem child?”

  “No. Her situation is more complicated than I thought at first glance, but…” There was such a long pause, Brea wasn’t sure he actually intended to finish his sentence. Finally, he sighed. “I’ll figure it out.”

  Something was troubling him. Since he almost never let a case get to him, whatever he was dealing with in California must be deeply problematic. “You always do. But I’m worried about you. You sound so tired.”

  “Pacific time is two hours behind Central.”

  “Oh, my gosh.” It wasn’t even four in the morning there. “I’m so sorry. I always mess up time zones…”

  “What’s going on?”

  In other words, why was she calling so early.

  Though Cutter had offered to marry her, he probably wasn’t braced to hear her accept in the middle of the night. On the other hand, she’d already awakened him, so why hang up now? “Daddy is suspicious. I’m scared.”

  “Tell me everything.”

  She paraphrased her conversation with her father over supper the previous night.

  Cutter didn’t sound at all surprised. “So you’re still having morning sickness?”

  “Like crazy. Sometimes it lasts until evening, then suddenly I’m ravenous and eat everything in sight. It’s like my body isn’t my own anymore.” Same with her emotions. She’d read online that her hormones were irregular during pregnancy and might make her behavior unpredictable. That was certainly a nice way to put it.

  “It’s not.”

  He was right. And during her next appointment with the obstetrician in mid-December, the doctor had promised they would do an ultrasound to check the baby’s progress—and reveal the gender if she wanted to know.

  What would her life be like by then? Even though she’d called Cutter to start their future together, Brea still couldn’t picture it.

  Or maybe she was afraid to.

  “Eventually your father is going to realize what’s going on. He’s going to see that your body is changing.”

  Cutter was right. Her bras were getting uncomfortably tight. So were her pants. Layers of billowy winter clothes would help disguise her pregnancy for the next couple of months, but come spring? Nothing would hide the fact she was carrying a child.

  “I know. No matter what I do, I’m going to hurt someone. I’ve worried that I either have to risk my father with a heart condition or make a choice that goes against my moral code. And then there’s you… I can’t bear the thought of ruining your life.”

  “You have enough to worry about right now without worrying about me.”

  “But—”

  “Brea, you’re not going to have an abortion.”

  “No.” Even if her religious upbringing didn’t forbid it, her heart did. She wanted this baby.

  “You’re not going to tell your father that you hooked up with a guy you have no intention of marrying and got pregnant.”

  It was the truth, and that’s what she should tell him, except… “What if the news kills Daddy?”

  Maybe if she sat him down, braced him before she explained, made sure she had a phone and his medication nearby… Wasn’t it worth a try? She loved him so much and hated being dishonest.

  “Are you going to tell him you’re planning to raise your baby on your own?” Cutter added.

  And that was where she stumbled. Even if her father accepted the truth—that she’d bear the fruit of her love for Pierce come May—the town wouldn’t.

  To outsiders and city folk, Sunset probably seemed backward and small-minded. But Daddy loved it here. They both had deep roots. This was the only home she’d ever known. She’d already accepted that she’d lost Pierce. But she didn’t know how she’d cope with losing everyone else she’d known all her life, too.

  Brea hated adding more lies, but this plan would only work if she got ahead of the narrative, announced her engagement to Cutter, and convinced the townsfolk they were just another happy couple pledging their lives to each other. Of course, once she started showing and the baby came, everyone would deduce that she’d been expecting when they’d married. But they would assume Cutter had fathered the baby, and he’d never say otherwise. It would be a minor scandal, but they would weather it. Daddy could keep the town’s respect, and she could keep her clients. Gossip would die as soon as the next drama hit town.

  “And what if he disowns you?” Cutter went on.

  Daddy wouldn’t. She might have worried, but he wasn’t a cruel man. Yes, he would be shocked and disappointed she’d gotten pregnant by a man he’d never met…but now that she thought about it, maybe he’d already guessed. And he still seemed to love her. God willing, he would love her child,
too. They would get through this as a family.

  “You know if he does, the folks in Sunset will do the same,” Cutter went on. “We’ve covered all this. You either have to leave Sunset alone to raise the baby in secret or—”

  “I’ll marry you. I-if you’ll still have me.”

  It was time to stop hiding her head in the sand and face the inevitable.

  Brea had expected Cutter to be relieved that she’d finally seen reason. Or impatient that it had taken her so long to reach the logical conclusion. Instead, he paused.

  His silence was rife with resignation.

  “Of course, Bre-Bee. I’d be honored.”

  But he wouldn’t, not at all. Clearly, he wished she’d made any other choice. But she didn’t have a better one. If Daddy had noticed her off moods and behavior, there was a chance some of the ladies at the salon had as well. She had to act now for this plan to have any chance of working.

  “Thank you. A-and like I said, I’ll never infringe on your personal life. I want you to be as happy as you can in the midst of this mess. If you want children of your own, we’ll figure something out. Artificial insemination or—”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. That’s years away, and we’ll address that if I get the urge. You just worry about you and the baby right now. Unless plans change, I’ll be back early next week, and we’ll go to the Justice of the Peace.”

  “We can’t do that. Daddy will want to marry us.”

  He would insist, just like he would want the ceremony in his church—a big shindig the whole town would attend.

  Cutter cursed softly under his breath. “How soon can you plan a wedding that doesn’t look slapped together?”

  “In Sunset? January sixth.”

  “That’s too long. Your pregnancy will likely be showing by then.”

  “Maybe not, with the right dress. But everything is booked up with the holidays. Out of curiosity, I called Norma Kay and asked if she could cater food for an event in December. She said she promised her family she’d do pre-Christmas parties, then take a vacation until the first of the year. Who else in Sunset can do the event except Violet? She just had a hip replacement yesterday in Baton Rouge.”