“Not really.”

“You shouldn’t be going through this by yourself.”

“No one knows that better than I do. Trust me.”

“He should—”

“I don’t know what’s about to come out of your mouth, but don’t you dare judge him. Remember it wasn’t too long ago when everyone wanted your head.”

After a brief pause, he said, “Fair enough.”

“You’d better get back.”

Sighing, he checked his watch and then dialed his phone, requesting a taxi at her address. Gabby stared straight through the windshield as one of her neighbors passed on the sidewalk in front of them, pushing a baby stroller, a little pink bundle tucked safely inside. That would be Gabby next spring. Pink or blue? And would anyone be walking beside her?

What if she couldn’t do this alone?

Mark ended his call, and she felt his gaze on her. Finally, she drew a deep breath and met it.

“I’ll go with you tonight. Pick me up at seven.”

“Ian. Come talk to me for a minute, dude.” Without waiting for a reply, Brian turned and headed down the hallway toward his office. Naturally, all gazes present in Dermamania swung toward Ian, and Ghost ribbed him by singsonging, “Oooooh. Somebody’s in trouble.”

“Fuck off, man.”

“Go get your spanking like a good boy.”

“There’s seriously something wrong with you.”

“Well, no shit.” Ghost laughed.

Sighing, Ian made a show of straightening up around his station for a few seconds, but he was only stalling. He’d been waiting for this. Unfortunately, he still wasn’t prepared for it. Brian had remained quiet about things lately—dealing with his own family drama, a brand-new marriage and impending fatherhood—but there wasn’t much doubt in Ian’s mind that time was over and Brian’s focus was shifting to what the hell was going on with Gabby. So when he walked into Brian’s office, Ian closed the door without being asked to.

Brian didn’t sit, rather crossing his arms and leaning back against his desk. And as usual, he got straight to the point. “What’s going on with you?”

“In what way?” As if he didn’t know.

“Well, for one, you’re still here, and for another…you’re always here. I don’t want to, like, tell you to take a break, or to quit and go be with my sister, but you’re hitting it too hard. You’re gonna burn out.”

He couldn’t tell his boss he was already burnt out. Weekday, weekend, he accommodated anyone and anything he could, working his ass off trying to better his financial situation. For what, he didn’t know. For some wild dream that if he saved up enough money, he could swoop in and take care of the woman he loved and his child to the point that her family would accept him, and he wouldn’t be dependent on her.

For the first time in his life, he wished he’d done more. Gone to college. He’d always loved photography when he was younger…then Earl smashed his camera, and he’d never bothered with it again. He had his art, but he could probably make more money inking it onto other people than selling prints.

“You might be right,” he muttered, shifting on his feet under Brian’s intense scrutiny. “But…it’s better than being home.”

“All right. I promised myself when this started—after my initial freak-out, of course—that I wasn’t going to stick my nose in it. Because I hate that shit, and I deal with enough of it myself. But now I’m going back on my word. Tell me what’s going on.”

“She’s there. I’m here.” It really was as simple as that.

“Dude, if you love her—and I’m not asking if you do, I’m just saying—then you’d better get your ass to Dallas and be with her.”

Hearing those words—as if he didn’t already know their truth—was too much. “How in the f**k am I supposed to do that?” he demanded, and Brian actually tilted his head back at the savagery in his voice. Ian was surprised to hear it himself. But that emptiness that had been gnawing its way deeper into his chest…it was reaching some vital part of him, and he feared every day he was about to lose it. Maybe this was it. “Jesus Christ, man, your family thinks I’m only after her for her money, or to f**kin’ mooch off her after she becomes a doctor. How am I supposed to deal with her having to give up everything she’s working toward just to be with me? It’s best for her and our kid if she achieves her dream. I can’t be a part of it right now. I’m willing to accept it if it keeps her on the right track. She needs you guys. She doesn’t need me.”

“She told you about all that?”

“I got it out of her.”

At least he apparently had an ally—Brian looked as if he were itching to hit something. “Goddamn, man. Look, I’m sorry. I know how you feel. I’ve been there—”

“Then how the f**k did you fix it?”

“It’s still not fixed. But I had information Candace’s parents didn’t want brought to light, so they tolerate me. I hate it. I still do, but she’s worth it.”

“I don’t have anything I can threaten your family with, unless you have a dark secret you’d like to divulge.” He gave Brian a crooked grin to show he was only joking. Sort of.

“Nothing like that, but I can tell you this: never underestimate the power of a good old-fashioned ass-kissing, dude. It’s worked with my old man more times than I care to admit. My mom…she’s a little tougher, but he can usually bring her around if you can get him on your side.”

“Yeah, but you’re his son. I’m just the indigent ass**le who knocked up his daughter.”

“Look, they can’t want Gabby alone and miserable. If a solution were presented, they’d jump on it. I guarantee it.”

“I can’t present one. I can’t snap my fingers and have a trust fund fall out of the sky.”

“Believe it or not, I doubt this has much to do with money. It’s more about, I don’t know, ambition. They hated me being a tattoo artist when I worked in that little hole downtown. Fucking hated it. But once they learned I wanted to have my own studio, though, and that I was serious about it, they calmed down, helped me get established. It’s all about your work ethic.”

“I don’t have any way to show them that.”

“You’ve damn sure been showing me. And I know you want more than this. I think for you this has always been something you just happened to fall into, and you were good at it, so you stuck with it. You like it, but it’s not your passion.”

“Yeah.” Brian was right about that. But Ian’s passions always had a way of getting doused…by life, by circumstances…by other people. He was f**king tired of sitting around and letting it happen.

His passion…right now, it was Gabriella. It was the thought of being a father. Again, he was sitting on his hands, watching it slip away, and afterward…afterward, he would blame the Rosses, he would blame the distance, he would blame everyone and everything except himself.

Lifting his gaze to Brian, he had only one plea. He could do this. He knew he could…but not without help. “Help me reach them.”