Page 19 of Happily Evan After

“Well, you fucked something up,” Dane says. “You know you have to do right by her. You can’t just walk away.”

Those words, among any of the others he’s slung at me, hit me straight in the chest. I stand and take a step towards one of my closest friends and the man who is currently my boss.

“Do you honestly think I wouldn’t step up and do what’s right? Obviously, I’m gonna do whatever I need to do to take care of her and this baby. I’ll be damned if I walk out on my kid like my dad did to me.”

“Both of you, calm down,” Romeo says. “Dane, I’m sure Evan is going to do the right thing.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll marry her. I’ll do the right thing. There’s no way I’m going to let a kid of mine grow up a bastard.”

“Not if I have a say in matters,” her voice says from behind me.

chapter

ten

Marley

I glare at the display of raw masculinity in front of me. In any other moment than this one—where I arrive in time to hear three adult men, one the husband of a friend, the second my baby daddy, and the third a stranger to me—when I hear them planning my life. Making my decisions. No, thank you.

Evan, at least now I know his name, steps towards me.

He holds his hand out. “We should’ve done this that night,” he says.

I take his hand, and he captures mine in between both of his.

“Evan Cartwright.” His voice is steady.

“Marley Olsen,” I say.

“It is really fucking nice to meet you,” he says, dropping my hand. He swallows visibly. “Are you really pregnant, Dimples?”

The question alone could rankle, especially because I’m sure I don’t look it from most people’s perspective. I just look as if I’ve been hitting the daily two-dollar special at the local ice cream parlor, Sprinkles, too often. But there’s nothing but sincerity and… hope? Oh God, is that hope reflecting in his gaze? My emotions are knotted in my throat, so I don’t dare speak; I just nod.

He steps even closer to me and holds his hands out. “May I?”

I’m not a hundred percent sure what, specifically, he’s asking, but again, I just nod.

His big palms go to my lower belly and cradle it. Then he drops to his knees and leans his head against the swell of my belly.

Then he looks up at me, his green eyes filled with emotion. “Can they hear me?”

I clear my throat and pray that I’m not actually crying. “I talk to her, but I don’t think she can hear quite yet.”

“She? It’s a girl?”

I nod. “I found out last week. All of her little parts are there and normal, and she’s growing on track.”

“A girl,” he repeats.

It’s then that I remember that we have an audience. We are not having this moment in a vacuum, nope, we’re having it in front of Evan’s co-workers and my only friend in town. I take a step back, breaking Evan’s connection with my body.

“I want you to know that I tried to find you when I found out I was pregnant. To no avail, obviously. But now that you know, you can, of course, have full rights as her father. Once she’s born, we can work out visitation or a custody agreement.”

He stands, his brows heavy with a frown. “I don’t want to be a part-time father,” he growls.

The tone and weight of his indignation inexplicably turn me on. My nipples harden to almost painful tips and my entire lady garden blooms with need. Stupid hormones. And stupid hot man who just lights up my body.

“Well, I don’t want to marry just because it’s your duty or whatever nonsense you were spouting when I first walked up. I am not a Victorian debutante worried about her reputation. We are long past the time when a man had to marry a pregnant woman to salvage her in the eyes of the world.”