My Unexpected Forever

“Mom?” My voice breaks as I call out for her.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m in trouble.”

“Are you at home?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m on my way.” She hangs up, but I don’t move. My phone is glued to my ear listening to the silence on the other end. The baby… it whimpers. I look at the contraption it’s in and mentally tick off the seconds it takes my mom to get to my place. I’m afraid it’s going to start crying. I don’t like crying. I’ll have to leave the room if it does.

My front door swings open, banging against the table that my mom placed there. She said it was decorative and added character, but apparently now it’s a doorstopper.

“Harrison, what’s wrong?”

I love my mom. Along with my sister, she’s my best friend and my confidant. She’s standing in front of me, her eyes full of worry. I point and she looks behind her before looking back at me. Her eyes squint and I see the confusion written all over her face.

“Why are earth would you ever offer to babysit?”



I shake my head. “I didn’t.”

“Is there a baby in that carseat?”

I nod. “The mom just left it here.”

“It?”

“She didn’t say —”

“Oh, Harrison,” my mom gasps as she removes the blanket that has been covering the baby. She bends down and does something with her hands and before I know it, she’s holding the baby against her shoulder. She starts rocking back and forth, patting the baby’s back.

“What’s his name?”

His? I shrug. “Don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

I stand and start pacing. “The mom… his mom just dropped him off. She left him here.”

“When will she be back?”

I shake my head pulling at the ring in my bottom lip. I look at my mom. My brows furrow. “She said…” I point to the baby. “Is mine.”

“Yours?”

I nod, biting my cheek.

“You have a son.”

“What did your mom do?”

I lean back and get comfortable. If Katelyn wants to know about my past, I’m going to tell her. I’ll say anything just to keep her talking. She mimics my position. The blanket slips, showing me more leg than she probably intends. Flashes of my hand caressing her leg play in my mind. My fingers itch to touch her. To feel her against my skin would be heaven. My hand clutches the back of the couch to keep myself seated. I don’t trust myself not to lunge across the open space and press my lips to hers.

“Harrison?” I snap out of my fantasy when she says my name, wishing it was more reality than anything. I just need a sign from her, anything to show me that she might be at least interested in getting to know the real me.

“Yeah?”

“What did your mom do?”

“She moved in and taught me how to care for a baby. She lived with us for about a year until I hired a full-time nanny.”



“Where’s Quinn’s nanny now?”

“I let her go when we moved to Beaumont.”

“Oh,” she says. She rests her head on the backside of the couch. She looks tired. I wish I could offer her a place to sleep… on my chest. I could hold her in my arms. Rub her back until she falls asleep. I’d never let go. I’d never let her nightmares haunt her. I can make things better for her. When her eyes close, that’s my cue. We’re done talking. I pick up my book and start reading again. I need something to keep my hands occupied or I might end up doing something I regret.

I see her shiver out of the corner of my eye. I grab another blanket and drape it over her. I can’t resist. I sit down next to her. Her legs are bent just enough to give me space. My fingers brush her hair away from her face, just like I did earlier. I’m not imagining it when she leans into my hand. I stay there and relish in how her cheek feels against my palm.

I drop my hand, feeling like a creeper. She doesn’t like me the way I like her. I shouldn’t be touching her while she sleeps. She’d hate me if she knew. With my elbows pushing into my thighs, I rest my head in my hands. I’m so screwed. There’s no way someone like Katelyn will give me the time of day. I need to find a way to get over her, and fast, before the pain is too much to take when she finally decides to start dating again.

I look down when I feel something brush against my thigh. It’s her hand. I look at her and deduce that she’s dreaming. She has to be. She’d never willingly touched me like this. I pick up her hand and gently lay it across her waist. My hand lingers longer than necessary, but I can’t help it. Her fingers link with mine. I know I stop breathing while I wait for her to wake and freak out. There’s no way I’m pulling my hand away, even though I know it’s wrong. She has to be dreaming about her husband, not me.

I slide my hand out from under hers, thankful that she doesn’t wake. I need to get away from her and fast. As much as I’d love to take advantage of this sleeping beauty, it’s not enough that I want to ruin any chance I have with her, if ever.



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