“We can finish what we started before your mom showed up,” Caitlyn said, her tanned face flushed.
Lindsey cringed. “I won’t be able to hear you two going at it, will I?”
“That’s a definite yes,” Caitlyn said, and Kellen bit his lip to hold in a chuckle. He wasn’t sure how vocal Caitlyn usually was, but with Lindsey within earshot, she’d likely scream Owen’s name at top volume.
“Well, that’s my cue to start the dishes,” Owen said, rising from his chair.
He leaned over Lindsey as he reached for her plate. “Have you gotten any job interviews yet?” he asked her.
She released a morose sigh. “Not yet, but I’ve had a few good leads—most telling me to come back in six months. The problem is that no one is going to offer me a job when I’m going to need to be on maternity leave very soon.”
Kellen knew it bothered her to be out of work. Or at least it seemed that way. The longer he was around her, the more he started to believe she hadn’t shown up late in her pregnancy because she wanted a handout. She wanted a father for her baby. Emotional support. And he knew from experience that when you were broke as fuck, it was hard to feel stable in any capacity. Not being able to offer your newborn baby stability had to be a frightening proposition.
“I don’t have a problem with you waiting to find work until after the baby is born,” Owen said.
Kellen grimaced and shook his head. That wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to be useful. Wasn’t that obvious? Was he the only guy paying attention here?
“I have a problem with it,” Lindsey said. “I’m not a mooch.”
Caitlyn collected their drinking glasses and headed for the kitchen. “I might have some contacts in Austin that could help you out,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ll look into it when I return to the office.”
“That’s nice of you,” Lindsey said with a smile.
“Have you thought about temp work for now?” Kellen suggested with an encouraging smile. “Maybe an agency has an assignment that will last a couple of months. And then you can find something permanent later.”
“That’s a great idea, Cuff!” Lindsey placed the dishes she carried into the sink and offered him a nice hug.
Something inside his brain clicked. He could take a bit of the burden off Owen and help him take care of Lindsey. Why not?
“Have you been to the doctor?” he asked, suddenly worried about her well-being. Before, all he could see was how much she looked like Sara. All he could dwell on was how guilty she made him feel. But he didn’t feel that way at all now. And he was starting to see why Owen put up with her. She needed their help. And the Mitchells had instilled in him a response to her need as much as they had their biological sons.
“Joan took me to meet her ob/gyn yesterday. We scheduled a thorough appointment for Friday. I’m going to have an ultrasound and everything.”
“And a paternity test?” Kellen asked. He figured Owen wouldn’t pressure her about it, so it was his responsibility to remind her as often as necessary.
Lindsey glanced at Owen, and then Caitlyn. Her face turned red. “If I have to.”
“If it’s not Owen’s baby, do you still plan on staying here?” Caitlyn asked.
“I suppose I’ll have to leave.”
Lindsey looked at Owen, her desperation tangible, and even before he spoke, Kellen knew what the big softy was going to say.
“She can stay here.” Owen shrugged. “Even if it’s not my kid.”
A loud clang from the direction of the sink gave Kellen a start. Apparently Caitlyn didn’t know Owen quite as well as he did. Or maybe she hoped Owen would abandon the young woman if Caitlyn was passive-aggressive enough.
“I’d accuse you of being an idiot,” Kellen said, “but your family took me in and made me feel welcome, so I can’t insist you offer Lindsey any less.” He smiled at Lindsey, and said, “I can help you out too.”
“But it’s definitely not yours, Cuff.” Lindsey rubbed her belly protectively.
“I don’t have to be responsible to want to help you, do I?” Kellen asked, because in reality he wanted to help Owen—to relieve some of the burden troubling his friend. And if the baby was Owen’s, Kellen hoped the child would be part of his life too. He always thought he’d make a good uncle.
Caitlyn’s passive-aggressive loading of the dishwasher intensified as she jammed silverware into various slots with as much noise as possible.
Lindsey hugged Kellen again, this time nuzzling into his bare chest. “Thank you so much, Cuff. You’re almost as nice as Owen is.”
“Almost.” Kellen winked at Owen, who seemed confused about Kellen’s sudden change of heart. Kellen hadn’t yet had time to talk to him about his weekend or how he was finally moving on after losing Sara. The part about Kellen being sexually attracted to his best friend? Well, he’d be keeping that little secret all to himself, even though he did finally recognize it for what it was.
The baby was something he could share with Owen beyond their music. He could be the child’s godfather, if they’d allow it. And maybe Dawn would like to have a baby of her own. Their sons or daughters could grow up together. Kellen cringed inwardly. What was he thinking? The woman didn’t have time to be a mother at this juncture in her career. Hell, she barely had time to be a girlfriend. And if she signed that contract with Everlong—he was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to refuse it once she had time to consider the opportunity—she would be traveling the world for her inspiration to write more songs. He doubted she’d need him at all. Pushing thoughts of future babies aside—he had no business considering children when his own career was so rocky at the moment—he couldn’t help but grin as Owen completely missed Caitlyn’s pissed-as-hell and jealous cues. Kellen might have come to terms with Owen becoming a father, but his new girlfriend was obviously still struggling with the idea.
“Excuse me,” Caitlyn said, giving Owen a pointed look he didn’t understand. “I need to use the bathroom.” When he didn’t respond, she added, “Upstairs.”
Kellen feared his friend was in big trouble.
Owen blinked at Caitlyn like a clueless idiot. Kellen stifled a laugh as Caitlyn glared at Owen so hard, he was surprised the poor guy could remain standing. Apparently giving up on Owen reading her mind—or her very clear body language—Caitlyn dried her hands and stormed out of the room with a frustrated snarl.
“You’re supposed to go after her,” Kellen advised as she tromped up the stairs like she was performing the stomp dance his grandfather had taught him.
Owen crinkled his nose. “No thanks. What she does in that bathroom is her business.”