Page 14 of Second Chance Baby

“You’re not stupid, man. Stop saying that.”

I looked at him in wonderment. “Did I say that aloud or are you now reading minds?”

His mouth quirked, showing his usually hidden dimples that were far too much like mine. “You said it out loud. Though I wouldn’t hesitate to apply for a raise if I had that to put on my resume.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I just bet. Budget cuts wouldn’t be a factor then.”

“Indeed not.”

For the millionth time, I marveled that all five of us looked like we’d had some wild DNA split to form each of us in the same damn mold. Same oversized builds, all shades of blue eyes, and hair blonder than not.

Well, except Penn. Dark-eyed and dark-haired, he was the anomaly in the family. I was pretty sure he looked like one of our uncles. Maybe Dad’s brother Bartholomew, where Penn had gotten his middle name.

Genes were wild.

And Maddie was clearly a woman, and while she was on the taller side, she was slight too, so she was a bit different than the four of us guys. But she looked more like us than not.

Personality-wise? We were all definitely unique.

Half of us had started on the closer to grouchy side of the spectrum when it came to Christian and Penn. But Murphy, and me, and Maddie, had all been more easygoing sorts by nature.

Until recent years when I’d edged uncomfortably closer to that grumpy line against my will.

I tried like hell to keep my nature as even as it had once been, but it was becoming harder every year. Once upon a time, I’d laughed as easily as I breathed. I always tried to look on the brighter side of life, and I wasn’t one to assume bad things were going to happen.

Now, I mostly saved my cheerful side for my little girl. She was my bright spot in every cloud, and so was my family—when they weren’t writing me a ticket. Genetically, I’d freaking lucked out, and I reminded myself that daily.

I knew too many people who weren’t as blessed as I was family-wise. I’d grown up fighting over nonsense with them like any other guy with siblings, but as we’d grown older, I’d realized I basically had four built-in best friends.

I didn’t take that for granted.

“Look, man, I know we don’t talk as much as we used to. I know you’re so busy with your new wife and your baby and Rea, but I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate you. I fucking lucked out in the sibling department, and maybe I don’t say it enough.”

“You think you can avoid a ticket if you butter me up?”

I grinned. “Is it working yet? Because I can keep buttering.”

“Oh, I know you can.” He slapped his ticket book against the back of his hand again. “C’mon, stop slacking, dude.”

“Nah, I’m not trying to skip the ticket. I earned it, fair and square.” I held up my palms. “I won’t even argue or plead it down in court. I did the crime, I’ll do the time.”

“Well, shit, now it’s no fun.” He grinned back at me, dimples winking. “I gotta say this, man. I don’t try to interfere in your business. But I have to say she did you wrong. From day one, you’ve been a stand-up father in every way. She didn’t give you a fair enough chance before she took off.”

I swallowed hard. “She kept saying she was scared. That she didn’t know what to do or how to handle any of it. Her mom had some kind of mental condition, and she never even wanted me to meet her. Why I only did that one time. Her mother in my presence seemed kind of like an ice queen.”

“Like Bridget became after she had the baby?” He frowned. “Could she have had bad postpartum symptoms? Honey suredid. Her doctor had to prescribe meds for her to even deal with that, and that was only possible because I have great insurance. You guys sure did not back then.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know,” I said vaguely. “I remember something about her feeling bad, but I had no idea how to help so I didn’t ask too many questions. I admit that now. And sometimes, I’d just fallen back on what had worked early on…” My cheeks heated uncomfortably.

“Sex?” Christian asked, sympathy thick in his voice.

“Yeah. I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t even know about postpartum shit.”

“Most guys don’t, man.” He patted my shoulder. “Takes practice and time and learning. None of us start out as experts there.”

“No,” I said miserably, a second away from thunking my head on the wheel in frustration.

Clearly, I’d fucked up. Big time. I’d failed to even realize how much until I’d started thinking back.

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