Justifying Jamie (Reason to Ruin Book 1) Read online

  When the baby fusses, Liam doesn’t hesitate to rock her. I take a step back and watch him console his daughter and talk in a high-pitched voice I’ve never heard before. And a really fuckin’ small pang of jealousy hits me at what he has that I don’t.

  Mercy

  Coffee.

  That’s the only thing on my mind. Even though I’m already running late, I have to stop at the small café right inside the hospital. Not only is it part of my daily routine, but without caffeine, I’ll surely fall asleep standing up today.

  Accustomed to long hours, I know all the tricks to doing whatever I have to in order to pull off double shifts, and coffee is essential… like a vitamin. I mastered sleep deprivation in nursing school, but the insomnia I’ve been experiencing decided to come to the party late. And it’s been almost debilitating the past few months, making my usual tired exhausted.

  As I stand in line for caffeine, I cover a yawn. I’ve worked two doubles in a row this week and am covering a ten-hour shift for my friend Nikkie while she’s on vacation. I had the day off and could always use the overtime, so I signed up for her hours.

  Right now, though, I’m regretting it because I can barely keep my eyes open as I shuffle forward to get my coffee. The wait is unusually long, and as I contemplate if I should skip the line and go to the vending machine that’s next to the elevator for a soda instead, the squeaky giggle of a woman in front of me draws my attention.

  “I know, right?” She twirls her long blond hair and bites her red lip, so blatantly trying to flirt with the guy ahead of me in a Valley Girl accent that is so not indicative of the Midwest.

  I don’t hear what the guy said that made her laugh like a hyena, but I roll my eyes at how obvious and embarrassing her behavior is. It’s one thing to be into a guy and have a conversation, but to blatantly throw yourself at him while you’re acting like a literal idiot is something all women should be ashamed of. No man is worth your dignity.

  We shuffle forward, and I get a whiff of the spicy-sweet cologne he’s wearing. Damn, he smells good. So does his leather jacket.

  She clutches his arm and pushes up on her pointed black shoe and whispers something in his ear that has a small gauge in it. I study his profile as he listens. He’s tall and lean, but not skinny. Toned. His tattoos peeking out of the collar of his black shirt give him the mark of a bad boy. I bet he has at least one sleeve of tattoos; something I’ve always found attractive.

  What catches my attention the most, though, is his hair. It’s short on the sides and spiked in the middle, but when the light hits it, I swear there’s blue in it. Something about him is intriguing. I suppose it’s his look. I see guys with tattoos all the time, but not with the whole rocker vibe this guy has. It’s somehow really sexy, and I hate to admit that I get why this girl is all over him. But if he were to give me that attention, I’d probably just say something stupid and embarrass myself. I tend to do that because I’m a total dork sometimes.

  He leans down and replies to the woman who then reaches into her black leather purse and pulls out an envelope. She hands it to him, where he presumably writes his number and hands it back. Why wouldn’t she just put his digits in her phone? She clutches his hand with both of hers and squeals like a damn pig. I wonder what animal is next.

  My God… who does that in line for coffee at six fifty in the morning?

  I take another step when they do and finally get close enough to hear his voice loud and clear. “Black for me and whatever the pretty lady wants. Something sweet, I’m sure, just like her.”

  The laughter that bubbles up my throat is uncontrollable, and when his head starts turning, I drop mine to hide my face. My shoulders shake, and I stare at my shoes, unable to stop the giggling at that cheesy line. I’m a bit slap happy and can’t help the little snort that escaped me when I try to inhale.

  I think about something sad to control myself; like Bambi or the ending of Titanic. But instead of it having the effect I want, it makes me mad because there was totally room for Jack on that damn door. Rose was a selfish bitch. Then I remember the scene in Steel Magnolias when Shelby (spoiler alert) dies. That does it; there’s no way I can laugh thinking about that. I clear my throat and somber up, all traces of humor gone.

  Finally, I feel rather than see the space in front of me clear, and when I risk looking up, I’m happy to find the lovebirds are gone, and I’m next in line. The barista Cole waves with one hand and holds a tumbler of ice water in the other. “Hi, Merc. Usual?”

  “Hey, Cole,” I reply with a smile as I step closer to the counter. “No, not today. Can I get an Americano?”

  “Sure thing. Tired?”

  “That’s an understatement.” I hand him some cash and scurry away before he can give me any change. He’s here almost every morning, and when he isn’t busy, I usually chat with him for a few minutes. He’s a really nice guy, around my age at twenty-six and also at my height of five feet seven with a mop of curly brown hair.

  A quick look around tells me my entertainment for the morning has left, and I bite back another laugh as I think about that guy’s lameness again while I wait for my coffee.

  “Something funny?”

  His baritone voice behind me scares the crap out of me. Where did he come from? I twirl around so fast that my elbow hits the cup in his hand. In slow motion, the Styrofoam lands on the floor with a force so hard the lid blows off and piping hot black coffee magnetizes to my blue scrub pants.

  “Oh shit,” he mutters.

  I freeze in place, which is ironic since my legs are on fire, and take a deep breath. My exhaustion catches up to me, and I keep my eyes closed as I squeeze my hands into fists, trying not to cry or scream, I’m not sure which. I finally raise my eyes, and the moment they catch his bright green ones, he smirks. “Now that is funny.”

  “You’re an ass.”

  “And you’re beautiful.”

  I guess it’s anger I’m going with. “Listen, dude.” I push up on my toes to make myself feel better about the height difference. “Those phony lines and your…” I wave my arm between us. “Bad boy charm won’t work on me, so take all that crap and shove it up your ass.”

  He smiles then, full-on with his white teeth practically sparkling, and if I’m not mistaken a glint of silver on his tongue from a bar in the middle of it. He shifts toward me an inch, so close I can feel the warmth coming off his tall, lean body as his sexy as sin smell invades my senses. “Not big on things being shoved up my ass, but if you’re game, I’d be more than happy to play.”

  I glare, my eyes spitting fire as I fall back to my heels. If he wasn’t so damn hot and so sure of himself, I’d be insulted. But clearly, he finds the entire situation hilarious, which it really is. I usually always find humor in everything that I can. Life’s too short to willingly be unhappy.

  “Damn. Are you okay? You’re not burned, are you?” Cole comes around the counter, and before I answer him, I notice the man’s brows furrow as if he just realized his coffee could have legitimately done damage.

  “I’m fine, Cole, thanks. My scrubs soaked it up before it hit my skin. But now I’m going to be even later because I have to go home and change after already waking up late and running out of milk for my oatmeal. Have you ever eaten oatmeal with water?” I don’t wait for a response and continue. “Well, I had to this morning, and it’s gross. And then on top of that, my blow-dryer died on me.” I take a breath. “Rest in peace.” I’m totally sad to see her go; she’s been with me since high school, and her death came as a complete shock.

  Cole nods while trying to fight laughter as he wipes the mess up with a mop. “I’ll keep yours warm until you get back.”

  “Thanks.” I start to back away but call Cole’s name. “Can you get Donny over here a new cup?”

  His green eyes light up bright with amusement. “My name’s not Donny, babe.”

  “No?” I giggle dramatically in mock disbelief as I start my exit and tap my index finger to my chin. “Really? With all that charm? I could have sworn it was Donny. Do you prefer Don? Or do you only go by Don Juan?”

  His lips tilt up, and the most beautiful, deep laughter I’ve ever heard sings to my soul. Rushing away, I’m thankful not for the first time that I don’t live far away. I could wear my extra scrubs, but I keep forgetting to bring them back to keep in my locker. On the way home, I call my boss and tell her of my conundrum. I might live close, but the walk is about fifteen minutes. And in that time, I can’t stop smiling as I think about that guy, despite my shitty morning.

  By the time I get back to the hospital, grab my Americano, and am making my way to the elevator, I’m over a half an hour late.

  “Sorry, sorry,” I yell as I run past my co-workers, my black Nikes squeaking on the linoleum floor. Once I reach my destination, I throw my stuff in my locker in the break room and go to the nurses’ station to look at patient charts and start my rounds.

  “We’re fine, girl. Take a breath.”

  I sigh loudly at Beth and wrap my stethoscope around the back of my neck as I try to slam some caffeine. “Thanks for covering for me.”

  “No problem. I’m just about to go to three-oh-seven.”

  “I’ll go.”

  I wave at the lactation consultant as we pass each other and then knock on the door to three-oh-seven quietly before opening it. “Morning,” I whisper, not sure if anybody is asleep.

  The first-time parents look up at me with tired smiles. “Hi,” Mom replies.

  “Morning,” Dad mouths.

  As I’m washing my hands, I hear the little peep of a baby and can’t help but hurry to see the tiny pink bundle wrapped in her mom’s arms. “She’s gorgeous,” I whisper in awe as she yawns, her itty-bitty fists squeezing. Her cheeks are rosy, and her
nose nothing but a little button. I think all babies are beautiful, though, but this one is just a little extra. Probably because Mom is stunning. Her face is flawless without makeup, and she just had a baby less than twenty-four hours ago. Not all women can get away with the badass look she has going on, but it suits her perfectly. I briefly think about the guy from the coffee shop and how they both have the same vibe.

  “I’m Mercy. I’ll be your nurse this morning.”

  “I’m Liam, this is my wife Meara, and the little princess is Melody.”

  Swooning, I put my hands to my heart. “What a beautiful name.”

  “For a beautiful girl, just like her momma,” Dad adds. Running his tattooed knuckle down Meara’s cheek, he gazes at her with such love it makes my eyes burn. That right there. That isn’t a line; that is genuine emotion.

  I push aside the heartache that I’ll never find a man who will look at me like this guy is looking at his wife. Or that the good ones are already taken. Or that I’ll never have a baby of my own. I love my job immensely, but I hate the sorrow and self-pity I feel at this moment, so I take a breath and grab the cuff from the IV cart. “I’m just gonna get your blood pressure really quick.”

  And then I go to work.

  By the time my shift is over, I’m dead on my feet, which barely get me home. It doesn’t take long for me to take a shower and collapse on my bed, not waking until almost noon the next day.

  Jamie

  “I think it’s okay to walk away,” I whisper to my brother.

  He doesn’t look up from his beautiful daughter when he answers. “I know.” It’s as if he’s still in shock.

  A few minutes after he doesn’t move, I try again. “The couch is four feet away. I’m pretty sure you’ll hear her if she needs something.”

  “But what if she stops breathing? I won’t be able to see if I’m not watching her.”

  “That’s not going to happen, but I’m right here. I’ll watch her if it’ll make you feel better.”

  Sighing, he turns around from the bassinet and then sits across from me on the black leather couch in his living room, resting the back of his head on the cushion. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “Shut up.”

  “How’s Meara doing?”

  They just got home this morning, which shocked me. I thought when someone had a baby, they stayed in the hospital for like a week, but apparently, a day and a half is enough. He already looks ragged, and it makes me feel for him, knowing it’s just going to get worse. I’ve heard stories about how infants don’t sleep and how hard it is for some parents at first. It’s not like they’re strangers to not getting decent shut-eye—my brother used to be a rock star, and Meara owns a bar—so I know they’ll pull through just fine.

  “She just pushed an almost eight-pound human out of her tiny body. What do you think?” I raise a brow at how damn defensive he is. He always was, though, when it came to Meara. From the first time he saw her when we were just kids, a part of him always belonged to her. In all my life, in all the places I’ve been and people I’ve met, I have never seen a love like theirs.

  He closes his eyes and then pinches the bridge of his nose. I’d give him shit about being in the same clothes he wore yesterday, but he looks straight-up beat. “I’m exhausted, so there’s no way she’s not feeling it a thousand times more than me. God, I don’t know how she did it. She’s so small, but she was so strong.”

  Liam and I are the same age, but from the time our parents got married when we were four years old, I always took on the role of the older, wiser brother even though, truth be told, he’s the smarter one despite what he thinks. He always knew what he wanted, and even though the road to good intentions was rough, he set himself up for a pretty sweet gig. He’s a business owner and the one who’s married and has a kid now, but I still feel the need to look out for him. “I’m right here, Lee. Go up to bed and get a nap in with your wife while you can.”

  “I don’t want to go up there and wake her. She barely slept, and she’s not going to have a choice but to wake up to nurse, so if she’s snoozing, I’m leaving her. Plus, you’ve never been alone with a baby in your life. No way in fuck are you using my daughter as a guinea pig.”

  “I’ve been alone with babies before.”

  He huffs. “When?”

  I actually have to think on it but can’t remember a time that I did. Normally, the thought of babies or, more specifically, me having babies makes me queasy… I shiver at the thought of being tied down. “Okay, so maybe I haven’t, but it can’t be too hard. You just pick ’em up by their ankles—”

  “Fuck off.”

  I laugh at how easily he’s provoked. “I’m proud of you, bro. And you’re doing great.”

  “It’s only been a day, not too much to fuck up in a day.”

  “Give yourself credit and get some damn sleep.”

  His knees bounce. “I don’t know if I can. I feel all speedy. I’m agitated, but at the same time, I’m focused. It’s weird.”

  “I bet you are, but if you tried, you could probably knock off for at least a few minutes.” My phone vibrates, so I pull it out of my pocket to find a group text from Ian.

  Ian: Fire at Stage 20, show cancelled tonight. I’ll keep you posted but looks like we won’t reschedule. Enjoy the next two days off. Departure still set for Saturday at 7.

  I shoot back a reply of acknowledgment. “Damn. There was a fire at Stage 20, so the show’s cancelled, which means I don’t have to leave for sound check, so you can definitely go take a…” I trail off when a light snore from Lee filters through the room. “…nap.”

  Laughing to myself, I stand and take a picture of him so I can post it on social media, and then go to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. I think for a second about what caption I want to use beneath the picture and laugh as I type it in on Ruin’s profile. We all have access, and each of us tries to post once a day to keep our visibility really high and our names on people’s minds, which sells tickets when they see we’re in their town.

  Baby Melody and Mama are doing perfect, but Daddy, on the other hand… #andtothinkheusedtobearockstar

  He’ll pretend to be pissed at me, but even though he isn’t technically a part of the band anymore, the fans still want to know what’s going on with him. And his family. Meara was around a lot, so everyone who follows us knows who she is. She was actually in a couple of music videos in the beginning. God, that was so long ago, before we had the money to hire actresses and models. Damn… sometimes I forget just how far we’ve come and how much more we can accomplish.

  I don’t say it to Liam, but it’s hard to digest still, looking behind me and seeing someone who isn’t him behind the kit. He isn’t just my bandmate; he’s my brother. As much as the other guys are like family, Liam actually is and that naturally gave us a tight bond on the road. It might make me a punk ass, but I miss him on tour and was even resentful at times that he left us, but more specifically that he left me.

  We dreamed up this band when we were kids. We’d spend hours and hours thinking of names. He’d go through pads of paper writing lyrics while I broke the skin on my fingertips messing around with hooks for something we never thought would be possible. I never thought we’d be selling out arenas and winning awards and having our music on movie soundtracks. Truth be told, I didn’t understand how he could leave that, even for Meara.

  I understand it now.

  Seeing him tired but so fuckin’ happy, I know he made the right decision. It’s what’s best for him and for Meara, who I love like she’s blood. And damn, for the first time ever, I really, truly understand him.

  Because if I had what he does, I’d give anything and everything to keep it and stop at nothing to protect it. It’s sometimes hard to remember that the kid I met when I was four who went from stepbrother to friend, to best friend, to brother is a fucking husband and now a father.

  I meant every word I said to him in the hospital, and I know he’s going to rock this dad gig. Lord knows I couldn’t do it. On stealthy feet, I head over to Melody’s bassinet and stare down at her, and damn… I never knew it was possible to love something so tiny so much. She is perfect. She almost looks like a porcelain doll, and if I didn’t see her chest rising and falling, I’d think she was fake. Smooth skin and pink cheeks and puffy little lips. Her nose scrunches, and her arm flails as she fusses. Out of instinct, I lift her out carefully and cradle her in my arms before she wails and wakes Lee.