that?”
“Because you’re hanging out together all the time and you’re sleeping together and—”
“How do you know we’re sleeping together? We’ve been discreet.”
“Oh, please. You whistle after you two have had sex. If you were anyone but my father, it would be cute, but it’s not.” She angled toward him. “Dad, do you really not get what you did? You’re in a committed relationship with a great woman, and instead of telling her you love her and proposing, you suggest some ridiculous co-parenting arrangement. She wouldn’t want that. She doesn’t need you to have more kids. She’s more than capable of doing that on her own. She has a steady income and lots of friends for support. What she doesn’t have is a partner to love her and have her back. That’s what she wanted.”
Before he could absorb what she’d said, let alone figure out a response, he heard Elijah crying.
“I need to go check on him,” Joylyn said, standing. “Dad, you have fix this. Either tell her you were a fool and of course you love her and want to marry her, or end things. You don’t get to have middle ground on this one.”
With that, she turned and walked back into the house.
Garrick stared after her, then faced front and waited for his world to stop spinning.
Love Wynn? This wasn’t about love, it was about having kids together because that was what Wynn—
He blinked, then swore under his breath. No. No! He’d completely and totally blown it. Joylyn was right—Wynn didn’t need him to co-parent. She could easily have more kids on her own. She wanted to be a part of something. She was amazing and incredible and a woman like her would demand it all.
He’d been so sure he was giving her exactly what she wanted, and instead he’d been an idiot and possibly hurt her in the process.
Joylyn was right—he had to do right by Wynn, and that meant committing to her in a meaningful way or walking away. There wasn’t going to be any middle ground.
* * *
JASPER’S OFFICE WAS separate from the house up on the mountain. It was a big, open space with lots of windows and room to pace. There was also a sofa against one wall.
Wynn sat there, her feet tucked under her, an untouched mug of coffee on the table in front of her. Jasper was in his desk chair, waiting patiently for her to explain why she’d shown up with no warning and asked him if they could talk.
He was a good-looking man, she thought absently, taking in the dark hair and green eyes. He’d been a magnificent lover. She’d spent hours in his bed and had enjoyed herself, yet there wasn’t a single part of her that regretted the fact that they’d ended things.
“We were never right for each other,” she said.
One eyebrow rose. “We were right in the moment,” he corrected, “but it was never going to be anything more than that.”
“I wasn’t willing to trust you.”
He smiled. “You weren’t willing to trust yourself.”
“Yikes, that’s too insightful. It makes me uncomfortable.”
Instead of replying, he waited. This was her party, she reminded herself.
“When I was nineteen, I fell in love with a guy named Chas,” she began. “He was a professional surfer, and he made it clear ours was just an off-season fling. When it was time to go back on tour, he would be gone and there was nothing I could say or do to change his mind.”
He watched her without speaking.
She sighed. “I got pregnant on purpose to trap him into a relationship. He took off anyway, leaving me alone and pregnant.” She held up a hand. “I don’t blame him. It was all on me. But it was hard, and there were times I wasn’t sure I was going to make it.”
Emotions flickered through Jasper’s eyes. Emotions that she couldn’t read, or maybe she didn’t want to.
“Has Hunter ever met him?”
She shook her head. “Chas died. I didn’t know until his lawyer showed up to tell me about a life insurance policy. I was the beneficiary.” She waved her hand. “It’s how I bought the business and you know the rest.”
His expression sharpened. “So that’s the guilty secret? You wouldn’t let me in because you were punishing yourself? You couldn’t have a real relationship because you’d tried to trap Chas? Self-punishment when there was no actual punishment to help you atone?”
She groaned. “I really hate that you’re a writer.”
“It can be inconvenient for other people. While