Second Chance Baby (Crescent Cove #18)

Chapter 17

SEVENTEEN

Stretched on my side, I sifted my fingers through her cornsilk hair as the sun gradually filled the room. My wrist started to ache from the endless repetition, but I didn’t stop.

She was so beautiful. How had I lived without her for so long? No wonder I’d spent my life running from the reality of it. The idea of not having Bridget in my life again had been too painful to contemplate.

If she hadn’t shown up at that shoot, would I really have just continued on as if I was actually living when I’d been no better than a robot? I hoped not, but I honestly couldn’t have said for sure. It felt like so much of my world had changed in just a couple of days.

Now all I felt was anticipation.

Excitement to see what the next chapters of our story would look like. To turn each page eagerly but not to rush any of it in case I missed a minute.

Today we had to go down to the lake for our shoot. In not too much longer, actually. I’d already let Bridget sleep in for quite a while.

Earlier, Daphne had texted me what kind of clothes to wear—a suit sans tie would be good for me, and some kind of girly floral dress for Bridget. And since I’d awakened early due to my agent’s endless texts, as well as a few bonkers texts from my cousin Cam, I’d decided to text my perpetual early riser mother to thank her officially for matchmaking.

She’d started off claiming she hadn’t done a thing until she’d clearly grasped how fucking happy I was, and then she had no problem taking credit.

Lots and lots of credit.

There had even been talk of naming future offspring after her, ideally her middle name of Minerva. I hadn’t asked Brig yet, but I’d warned her she’d likely be waiting for a while for that one.

But I had agreed to come to Sunday dinner with Bridget and Carrington, most likely after we headed down to the city to get any belongings Brig needed before we told her landlord she would be cancelling her lease.

We had to get through today first, which necessitated taking Carrington to school before our next shoot—oh, and probably telling her mother that she most likely knew more about sex than I even wanted to think about.

Hopefully, it was still an abstract sort of knowing.

Please God.

Then there was Bridget’s movie from last night for us to discuss. My mind had been opened in several ways yesterday, that was for damn sure.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” I tried rustling her awake. “We have a shoot to do this morning. And a kid who needs a school drop-off. One of those I can handle alone. The other, I absolutely cannot.”

She opened one eye then the other. “Travis? Is it really you?”

“Who else were you expecting?” I kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s really me, and we really have to get dressed, pronto.”

“I was having the best dream.” She turned over, stretching her arms over her head. “And now I woke up, and my reality is even better than my dream.”

“Don’t get too excited. My mom wants our next kid to have the name Minerva.”

“Good Lord, why?” She wrinkled her nose. “She told me that before, that her middle name is Minerva, and another grandchild would be a nice thank you.”

“Can’t we just get her a fruit basket at the holidays? Minerva Masterson is a hell of a mouthful.”

“It does kind of have a ring.” She tapped her fingernail against her lips. “Though, hi, we can’t order a female child. What if he’s a boy?”

“Then we’d be spared. Time to search Doctor Google.”

“For what?”

“You know, they tell which positions and whatnot to do to up your chances of a certain sex. I will do the needed research to save the next generation.” While she stared dumbfounded at me, I grabbed my phone and had just typed in the search phrase when she sat up and pointed at me. “I actually don’t hate Minerva. We could call her Minnie.”

“And then the baby shower would be all Minnie Mouse.”

“Would that be so bad?” She pushed her wild blond hair out of her face. “Besides, I’m not doing something freaky to get a male child when you know those things are the worst kind of wives’ tale.”

“Freaky is in the eye of the beholder.” I rolled onto my side to face her. “Says the woman who starred in a lesbian movie.” I frowned. “Maybe they call them sapphic movies these days.”

“And how would you know that?”

I shrugged. “I might not be as up there in the echelon of models, but I’ve been on many sets over the years. You hear things. That’s neither here nor there. Your movie was hot as fucking hell, and I think we should watch it at least once a year. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.”

She covered her face with her hands then spread her fingers to peek at me. “You aren’t mad?”

I laughed. “Why would I be mad? You’re so talented and beautiful and a hell of a lot better actor than I am, that’s for sure.”

She dropped her hands. “You’ve acted?”

“Just in one random movie early on. Didn’t get any others after that. And the world is a better place for it. The important part is you’re all mine, regardless of what other movies you end up in.”

“Don’t worry about that one. I’m more interested in a far different role these days.”

“Which brings us back to naming a kid Minerva. I mean, I’m cool with it, though the freaky sex style they suggest is doggy style. Gives the male sperm better odds, apparently.”

“Are you making that up?”

“No.” I grabbed my phone. “Already bookmarked the page.”

She snorted. “Oh, I just bet.”

A knock sounded on the door. “Everyone decent?” Carrington called.

“Depends what you consider decent,” I called back.

At least I’d managed to put my boxers back on before going to sleep.

“Are your no-no bits covered?”

I lifted an eyebrow. “That’s a new phrase for her,” I muttered, checking under the covers to make sure Bridget was covered too. She was back wearing the pair of my old pajamas she’d thieved, so yes, indeed. “Yes, everything is covered.”

Carrington flung open the door and charged inside, all ready for school. “Yo, people, hello, I have to get going or I’m gonna be late.”

“Just think, in a few years you can drive yourself.”

“Over 5. That’s more than a few, lazy bones.” She cocked her head to study Bridget. “You’re still here.”

“I sure am. I’m not going anywhere.” She patted the space beside her on the bed. “Come sit with us.”

She crawled in between us and then crossed her legs. “What’s going on today? Dad has a suit hanging on the back of the door in the bathroom and he only wears a suit to weddings and funerals.”

“Nice.” I ruffled her hair. “Your mom and I have another shoot for Uncle Penn’s new girlfriend down at the lake.”

Carrington wrinkled her nose in a perfect imitation of her mom. “Uncle Penn has a new girlfriend down at the lake? When did he have an old one down there?”

“Funny, kid.” I rolled my eyes at her, and she stuck her tongue out at me.

“You’re doing another shoot together?” She looked over her shoulder at her mom. “More dirty pictures?”

“Definitely not, since this one is outside. I’m not sure what we’ll be doing, actually, but Rita seems nice in any case.”

“Uncle Penn’s new lake girlfriend?” Carrington asked again to be annoying, something she excelled at.

“I don’t know when you got to be such a smart aleck, but I have to say keep it up, kid.” I stood up and scratched the back of my head. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and get dressed then we’ll drop the monkey butt off at school.”

“Yes,” she said primly, “I really didn’t want to have to tell my teacher I was late because of my parents.”

“Oh, the horrors.” I smirked at her before heading off to the bathroom, savoring the normalcy of hearing them talking and laughing like any other mother and daughter while I got ready.

Small, basic things always made me feel better about our situation. I wanted the boring and mundane. I was even looking forward to teen meltdowns now that I’d have Bridget to help me.

I took a shower, taking the time to actually condition my hair and trim up my beard for the all-seeing camera. I finished up my morning routine, then I dressed quickly and headed back to the bedroom. I froze in the doorway, my gaze on Bridget lying down in bed with Carrington in her arms. Exactly what I’d dreamed about was right there in front of me. They were talking quietly, and she was stroking her hair so slowly and methodically, I wasn’t surprised to see Care clearly drifting.

Then she spoke. “Daddy, Mom said she has a letter for me for every month she was gone in her apartment. So, we gotta make sure we pack those when we go.”

I swallowed hard. “Of course we will. I figured we could go down to the city and get that taken care of this weekend. You game?”

“Sure.” Bridget’s quick assent went a long way to easing the thread of unease still inside me. As much as I wanted to believe in her—and in us —I still had a lot of the past to work through. So, I was taking it one day at a time.

I also had a feeling we’d be seeing that couples’ therapist sooner rather than later.

I didn’t hold back my grin. “Maybe before we have Rita and Penn over for that cookout. Though we do need to pick up some marshmallows. Bet Biscuit will like those too.”

Carrington scrambled to the end of the bed. “Can we get Biscuit back today? Yesterday didn’t work out but maybe Aunt Lacey will be home after school so we can get him then?’

I nodded. “I figured we’d go grab him after the shoot. Speaking of,” I tweaked Bridget’s foot currently poking out from under the covers, “we should get a move on since we still gotta drop off this one.”

“You’re right. I showered last night so I’ll be just a few minutes.” Bridget rolled out of bed and hurried to the en suite bathroom.

Carrington propped her chin on her hand as she appeared to think something through. “I think she is really gonna stay this time, Dad.”

“Yeah? Me too.” I sat beside her on the bed and looped my arm around her shoulders. “But Gams suggested we talk to someone professional like she and Pops are doing, and if your mom is on board with it, I think we will. Maybe you could talk to someone too. If you wanted to, that is.”

“Like a therapist?” She puckered her lips. “Jesse has one of those.”

Jesse again, the friend who may or may not have been pent-up sexually. Heaven help me.

“Yeah, a therapist. Is Jesse a friend? Or is he your boyfriend?”

She didn’t bust out with laughter as she had the last time I had asked a similar question. Loudly and over the top as if there wasn’t any possibility of such a thing.

“What are we talking about?” Bridget came out of the bathroom wearing a snug pale yellow floral dress that showed off her curves to the best possible advantage. I had to swallow hard when my mouth went dry.

“I asked Care if a kid at school named Jesse was her boyfriend.”

“Oh, is he?” Bridget sat on the edge of the bed, her face relaxed and natural as if the very question didn’t twist her up like it did with me.

Guess that was why it was better if a kid could have two parents, because they always had a variety of opinions then.

“He’s a friend who is a boy.” Carrington shrugged.

“Is he the boy I saw you with the other day when I picked you up at school?”

I swung my gaze to Bridget, but she was focused on our daughter.

My automatic reaction was sarcasm. Oh, yay, keeping secrets already. But that wasn’t really fair. I also hadn’t told her about the pent-up conversation yet.

If I wanted her to trust me again, I had to learn to do the same.

“Yeah,” Carrington said quietly. “But it’s not a big thing, I promise.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart. I had my first boyfriend around your age. Maybe a little older.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. His name was Tony. I was sure we were going to get married one day. We did not. He dumped me for the new girl in class before a month was over. A few years later, I met your dad.” Bridget smiled. “I was sure I was going to marry him too, and that also did not happen. Yet,” she added meaningfully, slanting a glance at me.

I looked down at the hand I’d fisted in the comforter. “Yeah, your dad was pretty slow on the uptake. Maybe he’s learned a few tricks by now.” I rose to grab my keys and wallet before heading into the bathroom to grab my suit jacket.

Why did it feel then as if somehow, I knew even less?