Daddy Undercover (Crescent Cove #9) - Taryn Quinn Page 0,99

more babies.” Horror engulfed me as the tears started coming like a flood.

“Gina.” Mason grabbed my hands. “Hey. It’s okay.”

I pulled my hands free. “No. I just need to go, okay? I’m just overtired, and it’s been a crazy day.” I couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t stand myself right now.

“Hey, wait. Don’t go.”

I grabbed Sami’s diaper bag. “I just need to get home.”

“I don’t think you should drive like this.”

I sniffled. “I’ll be fine.”

“Let me drive you. I’ll bring the Jeep back after work.”

I shook my head. “I can’t be without a car. I already left my car at the diner because of Leo and my sister. I don’t know what time Jared will be home—I mean, back.”

The swirl of panic and tears were a thick soup, and I felt like I was drowning. I turned to Sami and found her sleeping. Her sweet cheeks were flushed, and a burbling sigh of contentment was the only peep that came out of her. She was completely clueless to my stupid breakdown.

“Okay. Hang on, I’ll figure out something.” He rose and looked around. Then he seemed to spot someone and crossed the restaurant with his long-legged stride.

God, I felt impossibly worse. I didn’t want anyone to be put out because I was a mess. It was my own fault. If I would just tell Jared about my past, then he could…

What? Break up with me?

That wasn’t what he’d do. But I didn’t want to saddle him with my stupid busted ovaries. He was so honorable that he’d tough it out. What happened when he realized the mistake he was making?

“Hey.” Mason touched my arm.

I brushed away the tears that wouldn’t stop coming. Sadie put her head on my knee and licked my fingers.

“Jackie is going to drive me back after I drop you.”

“I can drive, Mason.”

“Just humor me, okay?”

I tipped my head back. “Fine.”

Mason took the diaper bag and the carrier. “She’s out for the count.”

“Until she gets hungry.”

“Just like her dad.”

I grabbed the chest strap carrier and followed him out, Sadie hot on my heels. I couldn’t look at the woman in the chef uniform who was willing to extend her day just to help me out.

Mason was already at the backseat on the passenger side where Sami’s carseat was.

“I can take her,” I offered.

Mason gave me a grateful smile. “Still not sure of the buckles and things.” He held his carrier and I unbuckled her to swap her into the carseat. I passed off my keys, and Mason took the crazy pink carrier with him and put it in his car. He came back and let Sadie in the backseat on the driver’s side, then started the car, warming it up for the quick ride to Jared’s. We actually weren’t far from home since Jared also lived on the lake.

I got her strapped in and kissed her cheek. She shouldn’t be sleeping this late in the day, but today was a day of weirdness.

No one’s schedule was right.

I climbed in and stared out the window as we pulled away. Once we were out of The Mason Jar’s parking lot, it was almost complete darkness. The night was overcast, so there wasn’t even a moon or starlight off the water.

Just pitch black, endless darkness.

I pressed my forehead to the cool window.

“I hope I didn’t upset you.”

I didn’t look at Mason, but I reached over and patted his arm. “It’s not you.”

“My boneheaded brother?”

“Some of it. Some of it is me.” I had to own up to that part. I wasn’t making any of this any easier on us.

“You two will work it out. You never fight for long.”

I smiled faintly. “That’s true.”

Sadie pushed her way between the seats and rested her head on the console.

“I’m fine, girl.”

“Animals know,” Mason said quietly.

“I just need a little rest, and things will look better.”

“I hope so.”

I was too tired to talk after that. Michael Bublé sang quietly on the radio about a white Christmas with a little Shania accompaniment. The sweet duet watered me up again.

I hoped we had a happy Christmas.

More than anything, I just hoped there was an us at the end of all of this.

Twenty-Five

Sleep was for pussies.

That was what I kept telling myself as I worked my second straight twelve-hour day. Between the fire and a rash of sickness spreading like wildfire in the station, I didn’t have a second to think.

I’d even managed to hire a new deputy. Brady McNeill was a single guy transplanting to New York from

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