Page 25 of Depraved Favors

“If I have to,” he says, attacking my neck with kisses. He pulls away, tangling our fingers together. “Okay, where do you want to walk to?”

I blush, knowing he’s gonna give me shit. “The baby store.”

His head tilts back with a groan, shoulders slumping. “Honey, I think our son has more clothes than both of us.”

“And he’s going to keep growing out of them. We can never have enough.”

Owen shakes his head with a smile. “Fine, but one outfit only.”

“Dad?” Brit’s voice startles us both, and Owen instinctively pulls me closer. Her eyes slide to where he’s holding me and then to my swollen belly. “Oh my god.”

“What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the summer in Greece with your mother.”

Brit hasn’t looked away from my stomach, and I turn into Owen’s body to hide it from her. His arms squeeze tighter around me, rubbing down my back. She blinks, looking between us.

“Is that your baby?”

“It is.”

Her eyes flash with fury, and she glares at me. “You fucked my dad?”

I laugh. “You fucked my boyfriend.”

“Oh my god! So…what? You fucked my dad in revenge?”

“Hey, let’s calm down and talk this through,” Owen tries to mediate.

“No!” Brit screams at us. “I can’t—oh my god. I can’t believe you fucked her. She’s the same age as me.That’s—ugh! Gross!”

“Oh, please. What are you, the chief hypocrite of the moral police?” I roll my eyes, and Owen squeezes my waist. I huff, annoyed with the dramatics. I point a finger at Brit. “We obviously didn’t plan this, but it is what it is. And believe me, any time we’re together, you are the furthest thing from our thoughts.”

She flinches as if my words stabbed her, then looks up at Owen, hurt swirling in her eyes. “How could you do this to me? She was my best friend.”

He blows out a breath. “I didn’t pursue Peyton because she had any connection to you, Brit. You’re my daughter, and I love you. But you have nothing to do with our relationship.”

“You wouldn’t move for me! But here you are. So… what? Peyton is good enough for you to move?” Brit’s voice trembles, and I look away from her tears. I know she’s always hated that her dad lived away from her, but her mom had primary custody.

“Do you want me to call my dad to pick me up so you guys can talk?” I ask Owen, my voice soft enough that I hope she can’t hear.

He shakes his head, entangling our fingers. “No. I don’t want you out of my sight.” He looks at Brit, his jaw tight and his eyes dark with a defeated grief. “I’m at a different time of my life. It’s not about being good enough. And I tried hard to get your mom to stay, but she wanted to move back home with you. We were eighteen and just starting our lives. I couldn’t give up taking over my father’s business, and your mom didn’t want to stay.”

Brit glares at him. “No, you chose to not give up the business. You could have come with us.”

Owen shifts on his feet, his chest expanding as he straightens his shoulders. “No, Brit. Looking back now, your mother made a selfish and naïve choice because she couldn’t see past her own needs. I had the opportunity to make a real living and provide a home for us. She ran home to her parents. I regret a lot of things in life, mostly not spending enough time with you, but staying for my family business is not one of them. I just wish your mother believed in me enough to give us a chance.”

I squeeze his hand, knowing he’s never spoken up about Elise to Brit’s face.

She scrunches her nose, the furious glare not wavering. “And now abandoning that bar for your other child is the right choice? Thanks, Dad.”

Gritting down on my teeth, I swallow my anger. I know if I speak up, it will just make matters worse. Owen tilts his head back, blinking up at the clear blue sky. She looks at me and I raise my eyebrows, daring her to say something else. Brit’s lips thin, and I know she’s struggling to stay quiet.

“If you need me to be your bad guy, so be it. You’re an adult now, Brit. We should be able to have an adult conversation without trying to manipulate hurt feelings,” he says, the disappointment hardening his voice. Brit’s tears reappear as he continues. “I’m not sure when you’re leaving town, but if you want to meet up and talk before you do, don’t hesitate to reach out. Excuse us, we need to get Peyton off her feet.”

His hand slides to my lower back, guiding me around her and to our car. His angry gait is a little hard to keep up with since he’s so much taller than me. He notices and slows, blowing out a loud breath.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“For what?”

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