Page 21 of Ransom
"You are."
She blushes, which is adorable, then leans her head on the couch. "How are you? You've seemed a little out of sorts the last few months. Is it the work on the new office? Cara says it's coming along nicely."
"It is. They're a little ahead of schedule. We should be moved in by the end of April."
"So soon," she breathes. "That'll be a big change."
"Yeah. It will." Especially since Janey and Maya won't be coming over. I wanted to move the marketing and HR departments over, but neither one thought that would be a good idea. "Are you sure I can't convince you to move offices?"
She gives me the kind of smile my mom used to give me when I asked for an extra slice of cake. Indulgent but firm. "No. HR needs to be where the bulk of the employees are. You corporate goons don't need my services."
I bark out a surprised laugh. "Shit. Sorry, baby," I murmur to Noah, who didn't move an inch. Thank fuck Micah and Hollyhaven't raised him to be the kind of kid who can only sleep in a dark, quiet room. ’Cause quiet isn't really a thing around here.
"If you change your mind," I tell Janey, "I'll get you moved over in a heartbeat."
"Jonas said the same thing. He says he's worried about missing quality time, whatever that means. Most of the time he's so wrapped up in his work, he doesn't even realize it's the end of the day. You know that."
"I do know that." I'm not going to be the one to tell her the quality time Jonas is talking about is lunchtime sex. She still thinks they're being sneaky. She has no idea he's not as discreet about it. Not that he's acting like some bragging jock, but he's always so fucking happy after being with her, it's obvious to anyone why.
Silence falls between us, and I find myself lost in the tiny miracle nestled against my chest. Noah's breathing is soft and even, his warmth seeping through my stupid cow onesie. I breathe in deeply, savoring that indescribable baby scent—a mix of powder, milk, and something uniquely Noah.
His little hand rests on my collarbone, fingers splayed out like a starfish. I gently take it in mine, marveling at how his entire hand barely covers my thumb. His skin is impossibly soft, and I can't help tracing the little divots of his knuckles.
"He's perfect," I murmur, more to myself than to Janey.
She hums in agreement. "Have you ever thought about having one of your own?"
I look up, meeting her curious gaze. "What, a baby?"
Janey nods, her eyes sparkling. "Yeah. Finding someone special, settling down, starting a family. You're so natural with Noah."
I chuckle softly, careful not to disturb the sleeping infant. "Nah, that's not in the cards for me. Never has been."
"Really?" Janey's brow furrows. "But you're so good with kids. And you seem to love being around them."
"I do," I admit, looking back down at Noah. His little nose scrunches up in his sleep, and I have to resist the urge to boop it. "But I'm happy being the fun uncle. Marriage, kids of my own—it was never the plan." Maybe once, just for a little while, I considered it. But not since.
"I don't understand," Janey says, her voice gentle. "Don't you want a family of your own?"
The weight of her words settles on my chest, heavier than Noah could ever be. Memories flash through my mind—a house engulfed in flames, the acrid smell of smoke, the crushing weight of guilt. Then other images: McKenna's kind eyes, Blair's fierce grin, the day I met each of my brothers.
"I have a family," I say quietly, my voice thick with emotion. "Right here in this building. You, Jonas, all my brothers, their partners, these kids." I press a soft kiss to Noah's forehead. "This is my family."
Janey's silent for a moment, and I can feel her studying me. When she speaks, her voice is soft. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to?—"
"It's okay," I cut her off gently. "I know it might not make sense to most people. But this—" I gesture around the room, to Holly and Micah curled up on the couch, to Mia and John in their cardboard fort, to the sounds of laughter drifting down from upstairs "—is everything I need." Maybe, if I'd found my way back to Blair a decade ago, my answer would be different. But I put in my time.
I'm fucking tired.
Noah stirs in my arms, letting out a tiny sigh before settling back into sleep.
"I understand," Janey says finally. "And we're lucky to have you."
I meet her eyes, seeing the sincerity there, and a warmth spreads through my chest that has nothing to do with the baby I'm holding. Her eyes drift down to Noah, and her gaze sharpens. Her fingertips absently scratch at her stomach.
Something about the motion makes me sit up straighter. "Do you…are you having a baby?" There's no way I can't ask. I am incapable of keeping my nose out of my family's business.
Her cheeks pinken, and her hand balls into a fist. "No. Well, I don't know. Maybe. I'm…you know," she glances over at Micah and Holly, still asleep on the other couch, then leans in closer. "Late," she whispers. "My um…you know, is late."
