Forgot To Tell You Something: An Angsty, Later in Life Romance

I’d be lying if I claimed to hate seeing Owen jealous. There is something deeply satisfying about his obvious angst over Dan spending the night. It’s an innocent situation, but Owen didn’t see it that way.

Instead, the man turned alpha on me, his mouth and fingers owning my body, before reminding me that I belong to him.

Any other situation, I would have dropped to my knees to show Owen who’s really the boss.

But this isn’t just any situation.

Dan really is only a friend, and Charlotte really is Owen’s ex-fiancée. An ex-fiancée who is once again involved in Owen’s life. It’s a minefield I have no desire to tread.

I’m dealing with my own life issues. Namely, being a single mom to my Nugget. Yes, I plan on telling Owen—eventually. I know it’s the right thing to do, and since I have no expectations of him, there’s no chance of being disappointed, right?

It sounds terrible, but I’ll now be flush with cash since I’m no longer spending thousands of dollars on Dad’s care. Don’t get me wrong, I’d spend every penny for one more day with that man, but not the shell he’d become. If I could have my old Dad back, I’d gladly go through life a pauper.

“Tallulah, dear, might I have a word?”

I turn to see my landlord, Mrs. Smalls, standing outside the screen door.

“Come on in.”

She’s such a dear woman, the closest thing I have to a relative, besides Stefani and Dan. But today, something is bothering her, as evidenced by her incessant hand wringing. “How are you doing, dear?”

“As good as can be expected. My father didn’t have a quality of life anymore, so now he’s free.” I volley my gaze between her face and hands. Okay, spill it, Mrs. Smalls. “Is everything okay?”

“I hate doing this, considering everything you’ve been through. But my grandson…he lost his job, and he needs a place to live. I told him you’ve been a perfect tenant and friend, but he can’t find a place with his budget and credit—”

I grasp her hands, worried she’ll rub the skin off if she keeps at it. “You’re not renewing the lease.”

“I’m so sorry, dear.” Her eyes well with tears, and I grab her into a hug.

“Don’t fret. I understand. You need to take care of your family.”

“But I consider you family, too.”

“I love you for that, but Hecate and I will be fine. How long do I have?”

Mrs. Smalls doesn’t respond, but her nervous, darting glances make her answer clear.

As soon as possible.

I offer her a reassuring smile. “I just need to find a place and pack. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

What’s to understand? She has a family and they need help. I know the feeling all too well. I stepped in to help my family when the need arose. That’s what you do.

“It’s perfect timing. Moving will keep my mind off things,” I reply, but it isn’t the truth. It only adds to my ever-growing pile of worries.

 Memorial granted me a week of mourning, but I return early. I need to stay busy, and helping others will make me feel better, right?

So very, very wrong.

“Ouch,” I moan, laying my head back against the pillow, pressing the ice pack to my face. “He might be almost eighty, but damn, that man can hit.”

“He was fast as greased lightning,” Janine, one of the unit nurses, adds, lifting the ice pack to check the swelling. “I’m sorry, Lu. I tried to catch his arm.”

Her patient, fresh out of surgery and still halfway under the effects of anesthesia, did not wake up in a happy mood. It happens, albeit rarely, and most of the time, their aim is clumsy, and I have no issue evading their swings.

Not this time.

I blame my pregnancy brain. I’m serious. Since I found out I’m carrying Nugget, my brain cells have up and flitted away into the ether. It doesn’t help that I’ve yet to figure out how to broach the topic to Owen.

I know. I sound like a terrible bitch for hiding the pregnancy. Once I got past being mad about Charlotte and yet another lie, I realized Stefani was right. Owen deserves to know he’s going to be a father. I also can’t hide the pregnancy from him forever. Hell, it’s already noticeable when I’m naked—one of the many benefits of being short. There’s nowhere for my Nugget to hide.

So, I planned on telling Owen, but then my dad died and then the apartment situation…it’s an ongoing menagerie of crap.

And now, to top it all off, here I sit, in the ED, a bruise forming on my cheek and a banger of a headache brewing behind my eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay? We need to check.” Janine motions to my belly, and I wave her off. Yes, Janine knows that I’m expecting. She wasn’t supposed to know, but she overheard a discussion between Stefani and me. It wasn’t hard for her to connect the dots. Thankfully, the woman is Fort Knox when it comes to keeping secrets.

“Hazard of the job. Besides, he hit my face, not my stomach,” I add with a chuckle, the last word barely escaping my lips as the bay curtain slides open.

Owen.

I’m not sure who told him, but he made it down here in record time. Hell, I only stumbled in ten minutes ago. But it’s the look on his face. If he’s this distraught about a bruised cheek, I can only fathom what he’ll be like in the delivery room. Then I recall what I just said to Janine and wonder if Owen overheard our conversation. Let’s be honest, privacy curtains are hardly soundproof.

He rushes to my side, cupping the good side of my face and giving Janine a look. “Can you give us a minute?”

Janine nods, sending me a wink. “No problem, Dr. Stevens. When did you transfer to the ED?” She giggles at his glare, but abides his demand, ducking out of the enclosed bay. Memorial is a big hospital, but it’s not that big. She guessed Nugget’s father on the first try.

Any rigidity dissolves once it’s just the two of us, as he gingerly lifts the ice pack.

“You should see the other guy,” I smirk, wincing when his fingers gently palpate the area.

“I’ll bet. You can take a punch, Darlin. I’m impressed.”

“See? Everyone has a talent.”

“You have tons of talents. Several of which I’ve missed desperately this last week.”

My body flames at his words. Glad to know I’m not the only one. I avoid his probing gaze, my eyes focused on the pilled blanket. “These blankets are like sandpaper.”

Owen releases a huff. He knows I’m not going to address his earlier statement. “Did he get you anywhere else?”

“No. He didn’t know what he was doing. It was the effects of anesthesia wearing off.”

Apparently, Owen isn’t taking my word for it, as his hands slide down my arms and over my stomach. I release a small gasp when his fingers trail over my belly, and his pupils dilate, his gaze fixed on mine. “Are you in pain?”

“No,” I shout, a bit too fast. “I don’t need anything.”

He clears his throat, those stormy orbs searching my face for deception, his fingers still resting on my stomach. Coincidence, right? It has to be a coincidence. “I hate that this happened to you.”

Does he mean the punch to the face or the baby? At this point, and with that glare, I can’t tell. My only option is to play it off. “Hell, I’m thrilled. I’ll blend right in at Wicked Chucks.”

“You’re going to the concert tomorrow?”

I nod, glad to be on a different conversation path.

“The dinner is tomorrow.”

Crap. It’s not that I forgot about the dinner. I just hoped he would forget they invited me, and I could discreetly decline the invitation. I’m a strong chick. Hell, I can take a punch to the face, but it will be a punch in the heart to spend an evening with Charlotte and Owen. Add in that I now have a nice bruise on my cheek, and it’s fodder for a soap opera. “Yeah, I know.”

Owen stares at his hands, idly playing with my fingers. “I really want you there, Tally.”

Oh God, don’t do this to me. Please don’t make me feel guilty about evading this situation. Then his eyes meet mine, and I lose what little spine I have.

“Please, Tally.”

“Why do you need me there?”

His hand squeezes mine. “Because I don’t think I can survive this dinner without knowing you’re in the room.”

“But Owen, she’s going to be there.”

“I know, and I want to be with you.”

I pull my hand from his grasp. I need to put some space between us. Fast. “I can’t. Please don’t ask me to do this.”

“I know I’m asking a lot of you, but this is a big deal for me, and you’re the most important person in my life. I want those things interconnected.”

I hate him. Truly, I hate him. Okay, I love him, but I hate that I’m being guilted into attending a soiree of elegant people while I bumble about in ill-fitting heels and a smashed cheek. “You suck,” I pout, grabbing my glasses off the bedside table.

Even worse? The smile crossing Owen’s features almost makes the idea of tomorrow night tolerable. Almost. He moves closer to me, pushing my thighs apart to stand in between them. “I can.”

“No, sir, there’s no can about it. You suck. End of story.”

“Does that mean you’ll be there?”

“Yes,” I huff, hating how good his fingers feel as they wrap around my ass and pull me against his erection.

He buries his face in my neck, nipping gently. “I’ll make it up to you. Any way you want. Even better, any way I want.”

I bite back a moan as he grinds himself against me. Holy hell, but I’m hot for this man. “I’ll figure out a repayment schedule.”

“Don’t forget to tack on interest payments.” Another nip as his hands knead my ass, my body buzzing from his touch.

“Rest assured, I’ll demand repayment in full.” I push my hands against his chest, feeling the muscles flex under my fingers. “But I’m leaving early. I’m not missing the entire concert.”

“Deal.”

“Lu! I just heard! Holy crap, are you okay? How’s the ba—” Stefani barges into the bay, her eyes widening at the sight of me wrapped in Owen’s arms. “—battery on your phone? I heard you dropped it.”

I squeeze my eyes shut in horror because a five-year-old could see through that save. “Yep, my phone is fine.”

Owen’s hands grip me tighter, and I meet his gaze.

Poker face, cooperate. Just this once.

“I’ll take you home.”

“I’m heading back to work,” I argue, but Owen waves me off.

“You’re done for today. Let’s go.”

I want to fight him on the decision, but employee health will send me home, regardless. Might as well save them the trouble. With a grumble, I gather my belongings and shoot him a mock glare. “I can drive myself. You don’t have to take me home.”

Those gray eyes focus on me with laser intensity. “Oh, yes, I do. I have to ensure that you and your battery make it home safe.”