Love on the Rise: Book Two of The Against All Odds Series

by Gemini Jensen

  The night of the charity event, while Gray was pounding into me, as I was pressed against the doorway of a powder room, a thought kept nagging in the back of my mind. I kept pushing it aside, unable to think of anything other than the delicious and confusing things occurring to my body in that moment.

  Tonight, I’m explicitly reminded of that moment, of that voice saying, you aren’t on birth-control anymore, dummy, use a condom! Surprise, surprise. I haven’t had my period in three months. Not since about two weeks before that night.

  So, I took a pregnancy test. Then, I took another. Before I knew it, I’d spent thirty dollars on several tests that all told me the same thing. I’m pregnant.

  Oops!

  Is it bad to admit I’m not even upset? I’m the opposite. I’m so over the moon it probably isn’t normal. All I see is a baby with caramel eyes and red hair, or maybe a baby with silvery eyes and dark hair. Either one would be beautiful. I’m hoping for a boy, but I won’t be upset either way. If it’s a girl, I’d like to include the name Estelle, like Gray and Lyra’s mother, even if it’s just the middle name.

  But how am I going to tell Gray? I don’t even know how to get in touch with him. From the last time we talked, he made it seem like it could be years before I hear from him again. I could be uprooting our child from place to place the same way I’ve had to live the past decade or more.

  At least I’ll always have a piece of him with me…

  I blink.

  My hands shake as I re-read the passage.

  I re-read it again. And again.

  I think about the night I was shot, how I foolishly asked, “Does the dad know?”

  “Yes,” she had said in irritation as those silvery eyes flashed like lightning in my direction.

  But damn, I didn’t realize she was that far along. If I had realized…

  I drop the journal, grab my keys, and head to the hospital. All the while, I’m praying I’ve not screwed up too badly to be forgiven. Halfway there, I come to a screeching halt. This is going to take a little bit more than your average groveling, even if my fears over the baby not being mine were at least a little bit founded.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Valley

  THE DRINK MACHINE whirs as it dispenses my ginger-ale. I crack it open, taking a quick gulp in a sad attempt to quell my anxiety.

  Ginger helps nausea, but does it actually help anxiety? Pretty sure not.

  I glance at my phone the same I have every two minutes since I left the apartment. Unsurprisingly, there are no new notifications.

  What if I’m wrong? Maybe he wasn’t confused about everything. Maybe he’s just not ready to be a dad. That would hurt, but not as much as it would be hurting him to miss out on our little miracle baby. This baby deserves a special name. It’s just week fourteen and he or she has already beaten the odds to get this far. It’s nothing short of amazing.

  As I step back into Mom’s room, I notice a figure sitting in the chair. Jameson has been vigilantly at her side, a permanent etching of worry carved into his face. He’s murmuring to her softly, although I can’t make out the words, and he keeps thrusting his hands through his unkempt hair as he so often does. The past few days I’ve become more and more acquainted with him, learning new things about him, and recalling some things from the past. When he’s anxious or nervous, he tends to thrust his hands through his long strands. When he’s irritated, his jaw ticks and his nostrils flare and you can hardly get a word out of him. He’s on edge and has been the entire time she’s been here. Doesn’t matter how many times the doctors try to reassure him, or how many test results conclude she’s going to be fine. Nothing is good enough until he has definitive answers, and by that, I mean Mom opening her eyes and telling him herself that she’s going to be alright. It’s obvious how deeply he loves her, so much so, that I wonder how he was able to hide it for so many years.

  I don’t want to interrupt the private moment he’s having, even if I can’t understand his words, so I clear my throat, announcing my presence. When his eyes land on me, I give him a small smile. “I’ll just come back in a little while. I’m sure you want some privacy.” I throw him a sympathetic look as I turn to leave.

  “Hey, Valley. Can you do me a favor?”

  My steps halt. “Yeah, sure. What is it?” I ask.

  “Could you head down to my car, and grab something out of it for me. It’s an envelope in the glovebox.”

  I’m exhausted and grumpy and so not in the mood for running errands, but how can I say no to someone who has done so much for me?

  “Sure. I’ll be right back,” I reply, flashing him another weak smile.

  I take the elevator down to the lobby and walk across the lot to Jameson’s SUV. I’m still so on edge the chirp startles me when I hit the unlock button. Sliding into the passenger seat, I lean my head back against the headrest and groan out my frustration.

  Gray still hasn't tried to get in touch with me.

  Am I reading him all wrong?

  I take a deep breath, slightly comforted by the same distinct smell Jameson has always had even since I was a kid—a masculine trifecta of sandalwood, leather, and spice.

  Reaching into the glovebox, which is otherwise empty save for the owner’s manual of the vehicle, I pull out an envelope. From pure curiosity, I flip it over to examine it, finding a familiar scrawling of words on the front.

  Open me, Buttercup

  Well, that got my attention.

  Butterflies take flight inside my stomach, as I shred open the envelope. Looking inside, I pull out a folded sheet of paper, and smooth it out to read:

  Come to the desk of ICU. Nurse June will give you your first clue.

  Mindlessly, I follow his commands despite still being more than a little peeved. I’m not in the mood for the runaround and I’m annoyed that he hasn’t contacted me, allowing me to stew in worry. Yet, he has time to set up a game? And to get Jameson in on it?

  Of course, he hones in on a huge weakness of mine: My ever-relentless sense of curiosity is much stronger than the irritation I feel for him at this point.

  When I reach the ICU floor, I walk toward the desk and June spots me straight away. She grins at as I approach.

  “Apparently, you might have something for me?” I ask apprehensively.

  She nods, sing-songing, “I suuure do,” as she slides another envelope across the counter to me.

  “Thanks.” I sigh, taking it from her even though I’m still not whole-heartedly in the game.

  Inside I find a map of the hospital, along with another folded piece of paper. This one states:

  When we first met, you threw me for a loop.

  The word “loop” is underlined with a thick, bold line. Scrunching up my nose at the clue, I silently question what he could mean. I take a seat in the ICU waiting room, gather up all the magazines off the coffee table, and stack them neatly on one of the corners. Now that there’s plenty of room, I lay out the map of the hospital, smoothing my hands over the wrinkled surface.

  I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to be doing, but my eyes finally land on something that’s sort of shaped like a loop. There’s a drop-off area at the front entrance of the hospital that technically loops back around, prompting me to investigate since I don’t have anything else to go on at this point.

  The doors slide open as I reach the front entrance and my eyes scan the area. The loop itself is paved but there’s a covered pavilion surrounded by flowers and shrubs in the center so that families can picnic when they’re visiting patients.

  My inner voice insists I head that way.

  As I reach the entryway to the gazebo-like structure, my eyes land on a stunning assortment of flowers inside a vase that obviously were placed there recently. Picking them up, I pluck the card out of the plastic display holder. It reads:

  You make my heart skip a beat; it’s in a constant state of disarray.

  Okay, so this one might be easy, but my own heart starts to suffer fr
om palpitations of its own as I make my way to the cardiology department. Excitement blooms in my belly, slowly but surely overtaking the annoyance and irritation I’d formerly felt. I make my way to the cardiology desk more eager than before.

  Apparently, Nurse June has rallied the other nurses over to Gray’s side because this nurse gives me another clue, smiling gently as she hands it over to me.

  You may just be bad for my health, but baby, you taste too good to give up.

  I read the clue over and over, suddenly more than a little stumped.

  “This fucking game,” I grit out in frustration.

  Isn’t there a way to phone a friend?

  A multiple choice of answers that can be narrowed down?

  Maybe even take a poll from the audience?

  I want to ask for help but feel like it would be cheating. Plus, I don’t want to ruin all the time he’s put into this. While I might be hurt because of Gray’s assumption, and even a little annoyed, I can still appreciate the thought he’s put into this.

  Above all else, this is just for me.

  And I’m greedy for his attention; I’ve been starving for it for way too long.

  Pulling out the map, I scan the layout of the hospital once more. All the departments are listed in a key, so I read through all those. Nutrition suddenly sticks out to me, but could it be a fit?

  I hurry there to find out.

  Unfortunately, it’s a conference room of sorts—I’m guessing for educational purposes—and when I jiggle the handle, it’s locked. I hang my head in defeat, thinking of another place that could fit the bill. Cafeteria perhaps?

  But just as I’m about to walk away, a lady approaches me and asks, “Are you Valley?”

  I blink slowly at her, momentarily speechless.

  “Yeah,” I answer after more than a few beats, still having a difficult time responding to my birth name due to the countless aliases I’ve used over the years.

  “I’m supposed to give this to you whenever you come here.” She presents another envelope. I smile and thank her before eagerly tearing into it.

  You make my head spin

  This particular one elicits a small giggle on my part. Everything is so cheesy but so damn adorable at the same time. I make my way over to the section labeled “Head Trauma” on the map, gaining more confidence with each correct guess I’m making. Again, there’s someone waiting to hand me an envelope when I arrive. I’m really beginning to enjoy myself, the stress of the past few weeks melting away with each silly hint. The newest one:

  Just like the Madonna song you once sang to me in my Jeep, I’m crazy for you

  Glancing at the map to ensure there’s actually one of those types of wards here since hospitals can be selective with what they provide, I find the Psychiatric Ward listed out all too easily. When I reach the desk, this Nurse isn’t too friendly, seemingly agitated about being involved in a silly game when she has more important matters at hand. But she hands over my envelope all the same.

  How much further can I fall?

  I pause for thought, repeating the question aloud to myself. An elevator perhaps? But there are so many of those in the building. Still, it makes the most sense. And, if that’s what I’m looking for, Gray would choose the closest one in the vicinity. My eyes flit about the area until landing on the one closest by. I skip across the area and press the button to open the doors.

  Once inside, I glance around on the ground, half expecting an envelope to be tucked neatly against one of the back corners of the floor, in plain sight.

  Nothing.

  The floor is empty, no papers lying anywhere and none tacked to the back wall.

  Sighing, I hit the button to go to the ground floor but my peripheral vision catches on something. Turning, I notice a piece of paper slipped down into the pocket containing the safety papers provided for servicing each elevator. On it, in his handwriting, it reads:

  Every day I fall even harder, and I’m falling further still. Code: 6234 P.S. I had to pull in some EXTRA favors for this one so be on your best behavior.

  He’s falling further still, so does that mean I need to go as high up as I can?

  Guess we’ll find out.

  I press the R button enjoying the hum of the elevator as it climbs to the top floor. My belly is taut with anticipation. When the doors creep open, I step out into an enclosed space. Essentially, it’s four walls, one of which contains two snack dispensers and a drink machine; one of which holds the door to the roof. That door is locked with a security access keypad.

  My fingers shake as I type in the code from the note, 6234, hoping I’m at the right place. Green lights illuminate paired with two short beeps. The lock produces a click.

  I push at the heavy metal door, hoping like hell no alarms start blaring. It gives under the pressure of my palms, and I’m relieved when I realize no loud noises accompany it.

  Taking a deep breath, I step out onto the rooftop.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  MY STEPS FALTER as I take in the scene around me. It’s a rooftop garden adorned with potted plants and even a few trees in the larger cemented planters. Water trickles from a tiny fountain about the size of a birdbath, but it’s music to my ears. The noise carries just enough to be heard from the doorway whispering promises of tranquility. A single red rose rests just on the lip of the fountain. I wonder if this means the game is over… Just like the game began with flowers, is this how it ends?

  I step forward, approaching slowly. As I reach out to grasp it, I realize there are no more notes to be found, at least not from my point of view.

  I’ve come to the end of my scavenger hunt, but what will be my prize?

  Glancing around the area, my eyes finally land on him. He’s cloaked in shadows as he leans casually into the dark slant of the building. When he realizes I’ve finally spotted him, he pushes away from the wall and strides over to me. His gait is all-powerful, all male. It gives no hint of the pain he’s probably in, or the fact he was just in a hospital bed fighting for his life not that long ago.

  My feet desperately want to meet him halfway, but I remain rooted in place, absorbing his every movement as he approaches. I can control my feet, but I can’t control the rest of my body. Everything inside of me is thrumming—the surface of my skin, my heart, even the area between my legs that has no business calling out with need. My stomach tightens and my chest constricts in that astonishing kind of way it does when you’re completely wrought with the anticipation of good things to come.

  Stopping when his toes meet mine, he gazes down at me but remains silent. He just drinks in my face lovingly like I’m his favorite thing in the world; like he’s seeing me for the first time all over again. The air crackles around us, and I open my mouth to speak, but snap it shut again when I realize I don’t know what to say. Instead, my tongue darts across my lips nervously.

  His eyes survey the motion and his nostrils flare.

  Then his arms reach out and yank my body against his as his lips lower to mine.

  He doesn’t ask permission. He doesn’t wait to see if I’m over the fact I was more than a little ticked off at him. He just takes.

  But in taking, he also gives. Every emotion, every feeling, every thought is poured into this kiss and I consume them willingly. I devour each thing he’s feeding me, I listen to each thing he’s telling me, and I let go.

  I let go of every bit of resentment I might have once felt; the most recent baby miscommunication, the things he kept from me in regard to working with Jameson, the words he said to me that day in the car. I release them all and my heart is lighter because of it.

  When he pulls away, I can’t help but smile up at him.

  “How’d you get such a sweet set-up like this?” I tease, glancing around again at the rooftop garden we’ve been dropped into the midst of.

  He smirks at my question. “That was just a stroke of luck. Apparently the hospital staff uses this as a break area.”

  “And the sc
avenger hunt with the sappy clues?”

  His thumb traces random shapes at the small of my back before he answers, “You just inspire me to be a sappy love-struck fool.” He pulls me further into his arms, holding me and pressing his nose to my hair like he’s breathing me in; making sure I’m really here.

  “So…” he says, “we’re having a baby.” His voice attempts to be casual, but I can hear the smile in it even with his face pressed into my hair.

  I pull back to gaze up at him, and sure enough, I’m right about the sentimental expression lighting his face. He’s so full of pride it makes my heart sing.

  “Yes, we are,” I answer, putting more emphasis than is necessary on the ‘we’ part.

  He picks me up in the air and spins me around once before dropping me lightly back onto my feet.

  “Gray,” I scold, “you aren’t supposed to be doing shit like that. You were just shot. You’ll rip your stitches at the very least.”

  He just grins his shit-eating grin at me and ignores the reprimand. I glare at him and he sobers suddenly before whispering, “I’m sorry I was a fool. Sorry I was too damn stupid to realize the baby was mine.”

  “Hm. You should be.” I shake my head attempting to sound stern. I may have just decided to let it all go, but he doesn’t have to know that. I’m at least going to enjoy making him sweat a little. Can’t give it all to him too easily.

  He hangs his head at my comment, threading his fingers between mine. Taking a deep, lungful of air then releasing it, he glances up again, eyes boring into mine. “I’m such a fucking idiot; I know that now. I was just so fucking scared because I could see the rest of my life unfolding before me. I told myself even if you were having someone else’s kid, I was going to be with you anyway. Because you’re mine.” He growls the last words. “But then I started over-thinking every little thing. I let fear get in the way of rationality.”