Real Regrets (Kensingtons Book 2)

My dad is waiting next to the baggage claim with a dorky handwritten sign that reads Favorite (Middle) Child.

I smile, shedding some of the exhaustion and stress as his arms wrap around me. A barrage of texts was waiting when my plane landed, letting me know that April and Eddie now have a son named Ezra and that both baby and mom are happy and healthy.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Grandpa.”

He laughs. “That title will take a little getting used to.”

“Everything is really okay?”

“Yep. Just a scare. He’s a cute little thing, all wide eyes and tiny toes. Reminds me of when you were little, not extending work trips to spend time with a husband.”

I cleared my trip extension with his assistant since I don’t have a direct supervisor. And I should have known it would take less than a minute for him to mention my longer stay in New York.

“We’re still getting divorced, Dad.” I pull my sunglasses down over my eyes as we walk out the automatic doors into the sunshine. It’s at least ten degrees warmer than when I left New York.

My dad says nothing, which is worse than a lecture.

I’m a coward who left New York without telling Oliver how I feel about him. And I feel the echo of that weakness in each second of silence. In the fact none of the texts waiting when I landed were from him.

My dad is a rule-follower, so we trek across the hot asphalt to the parking lot where he left his car. I fill him in on the meetings with Tyler as we walk, even knowing he’s already received reports. This is the part of my job I’ll really miss, if I do leave Garner Sports Agency. Sharing it with my dad.

“I met with Logan Cassidy again last week,” he says, once we’re in the car zooming along the palm-tree lined road, the scenery so different from New York’s concrete jungle.

“How did it go?”

“Good. I think there’s a good chance he’ll sign with us.”

“That’s good.” I fiddle with the hem of my t-shirt. “I got into architecture school, Dad.”

I realize while he’s driving probably wasn’t the best time to tell him after he drifts over the lane divider, setting off a series of honks. He quickly swerves back, correcting the car’s path.

“I’m not sure if I’m going to go,” I add, once I’m confident he has driving under control again.

“Why wouldn’t you go?” he asks, which is not the first question I would have guessed he’d ask.

“I’m not sure it’s what I want. If I applied because it was the right decision or because I was wanting something different.”

“What school?”

“Los Angeles School of Design.”

“Long way from New York.”

I look away from him, out the window. “It is,” I agree.

And I know it’s a part of my indecision. Committing to school here is different from continuing my job here. Some hopeful part of me wants to leave possibilities open.

“I’ve loved having you at the agency, Hannah. You know that. But starting that company was my dream. I want you to follow yours, wherever that might lead. The offices could use a facelift, so it would be handy to have an architect in the family.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I whisper.

He turns on the stereo, stopping on an old Beach Boys song. It serves as our soundtrack to the hospital, where my mom and Rachel are waiting in the lobby. They both give me hugs before we head to April’s room. Since I’m the only one who hasn’t visited, I go in first.

April is sleepy and smiling when I enter the tiny hospital room. Eddie is standing beside the bed, beaming down at her and the little bundle in her arms.

Stranger than the realization I’m an aunt is the recognition my brother is a father. That his life changed irrevocably today.

When Eddie asks if I want to hold my nephew, I don’t hesitate to say yes. He’s wrapped in a striped blanket, even smaller than I’m expecting. I stare down at his miniature features, his eyes closed and expression peaceful. Sleeping like a baby.

“He’s beautiful, you guys.”

“Thanks, Hannah,” April says. “I brought the duckling onesie in my hospital bag to take him home in.”

I smile. “I got a more original gift too. I’ll drop it off tomorrow.”

April replies with “You didn’t need to get us a second gift!” at the same time Eddie tells me “Thanks.” They glance at each other, then laugh.

“I’m sure Ezra will love it,” she says.

“I hope so.”

Unfortunately, thinking about the lamb rocker only reminds me who suggested I buy it.

I pass Ezra back to Eddie after a few minutes, noticing how exhausted April looks. I hug them both goodbye, then head out into the hallway.

My parents both duck into the room to say goodbye as well, while Rachel grabs a snack from the vending machine. I stare at the infographic about the common cold while I wait for everyone else to be ready to depart.

Everyone is cheerful and excited once we’re in the car. Everyone except me, but I try to fake it. My mom is gushing about Ezra. My dad gets a call about a new contract offer. Rachel chatters about her summer trip. She’s settled on Greece.

“Will you come over for dinner tomorrow night, Hannah?” my mom asks as we turn onto my street. “I want to hear all about your New York trip.”

Dread trickles through me, but I know I’ll have to have this conversation eventually. Might as well get it over with. “Sure, Mom.”

My dad pulls over in front of my bungalow, then climbs out to grab my suitcase from the back. I check to make sure nothing fell out of my bag into the footwell, then unclick my seatbelt.

“Oliver came back with you?”

I glance over at Rachel. “What?”

She points out the window. “Isn’t that him?”

Rather than look, I climb out of the car. My dad has spotted him too, waving once he’s set my suitcase on the sidewalk. “You got it from here, Han?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Dad.”

He winks, squeezes my shoulder, and then climbs in the car.

I start up the front walk to my house, rolling my suitcase along the path.

Oliver stands as I approach, the porch swing rocking slightly as he walks over to the front steps. He’s wearing joggers and a sweatshirt, looking rumpled and nothing like his usual polished self. His casual clothes make me smile, for some stupid reason. It feels like some part of myself I’ve left on him.

I abandon my suitcase a few feet from the stairs, racing up them and flinging myself into his arms. Oliver staggers back a half-step before regaining his balance.

I don’t know why he’s here. But he came, and that matters to me. He wasn’t too busy to notice I’d left. His arms tighten around my back, and I exhale for what feels like the first time since I left New York.

“Is April okay?”

I pull back so I can see his face. “She’s great. I have a nephew. Ezra. He’s really cute. So tiny, I was nervous to hold him.”

Oliver smiles. Then, very seriously, asks, “Do you want kids?”

“I, um, I…” I’m completely thrown, is what I am. That’s he’s here, and that that’s the second question he asked. “I don’t know. Do you?”

“I didn’t think so. But I would be open to it, if my wife did.”

I study his face, trying to determine if he’s using wife in a general sense or if he’s referring to me.

“I thought you didn’t want to ever get married.”

“Yeah. I thought that too. Then I realized I don’t want a divorce, either.”

“You don’t?” Something that feels a lot like hope spreads through me.

“No. I meant what I said last night, Hannah. I don’t regret marrying you. It was the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Happiness expands in my chest, bright and fizzy.

“I’m selfish, Hannah. Set in my ways and I spend way too much time focused on a company that doesn’t spare a thought for me. But it’s who I am, Hannah. I’ll never be able to change, not all the way. I need you to know that. Just like I need you to know… I love you. I’m in love with you. I’m not sure when it happened, when it started, but it’s gone nowhere. It’s this part of me now.”

I don’t realize I’m crying until he gently swipes a tear away.

“Sorry.” I sniff, wiping the rest with the back of my hand. “It’s been a day.”

“I know.”

I step closer to him, inhaling his familiar scent. It feels like home, more than the house we’re standing in front of. “I’m in love with you too.”

Oliver visibly swallows, and I wonder if anyone has ever said that to him. If he’s ever said it to anyone. So I say it again, in even simpler terms.

“I love you, Oliver.”

He tugs me against his body and kisses me. It’s slower than most of the ones we’ve shared. Savoring and sweet. Like the first of many, instead of possibly the last.

Oliver brushes some hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. “My dad called me in for a meeting early this morning. I thought I’d be back before you woke up.”

“What did he want?” I ask.

“He was pissed about a deal that went sour. But the real surprise was Crew handed in a resignation letter. He’s leaving the company. Moving here, actually, part-time.”

That’s why he was here a few weeks ago, I realize.

“So, you’ll be the next CEO.”

“If I stay.”

“What do you mean, if you stay? You’ve dedicated your whole career to the company. You want CEO.”

He doesn’t disagree. “The headquarters are in New York. It’s where I’d have to work.”

“They have architecture schools in New York.”

Oliver’s jaw clenches. “I don’t want you to have to give up on—”

“I’m not giving up on anything. I promise.”

His green gaze simmers with emotions. “I love you.”

I rise up on my tippytoes, wrapping my arms around his neck and fusing our mouths together. His hands land on my ass, pulling me into his growing erection.

“How long can you stay?” I ask, when his mouth moves to my neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. I literally melt against him, giving up on holding myself upright.

“Couple of days. I took the jet, but my dad can’t do shit unless he wants to hand the company over to a stranger.”

“If he really can’t do shit, you should stay for a week.”

I feel his chest reverberate with a chuckle. “You could probably convince me.”

“How?” I ask, feigning confusion.

Oliver laughs again, and I savor the sound. He pulls away to grab my suitcase from the spot where I abandoned it, while I unlock my front door.

And then we walk inside.

Together.