Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds Book 2)

by Claudia Burgoa

  “As if,” I roll my eyes.

  “You know what I think is ironic?” he asks.

  “That my sister went on a honeymoon to another resort?”

  “I don’t see the irony in that. That’s nonsense. Unless…they wanted to get rid of us,” he laughs. “Then that’s plain genius.”

  “You want to get rid of me?”

  “No, but if this was our honeymoon, I wouldn’t want to have your entire family around,” he says, kissing my shoulder.

  “So, what’s the irony then?” I ask, shivering.

  “That we’re on a romantic getaway, and I’m still subscribing to your friend zone propaganda,” he says. “To answer your previous question, no, I never imagined spending this night like this.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I wish I could say, ‘my wife and my baby’ but I don’t have anything…” his fingers twirl my hair. His slow exhale carries longing and probably frustration. “Still, I’m happy with the company.”

  “A part of me thinks that we should have the talk. The one where I thank you for everything you’ve done and I move into an apartment,” I turn my body to face him. His beautiful eyes are a bit darker than usual. “This roommate arrangement cramps your style.”

  “What does the other part think?”

  I shake my head.

  “Listen to whatever part that tells you to stay with me,” he pulls me closer to him and kisses my forehead. “Being with you is all that matters to me.”

  He moves his head slightly. His mouth captures mine. This isn’t a chaste kiss. It’s Nate devouring me. I should stop him. Remind myself why we can’t act on our feelings. But it’s impossible to use my head when the man is nibbling my bottom lip. Sliding his tongue inside my mouth, tangling with mine, and making love to it the same way I want him to make love to me.

  My hand goes to his head. My fingers comb through his thick hair.

  His mouth moves to my neck, or maybe I’m pushing his head down, wanting his mouth all over my body, placing wet, hot kisses.

  I’ve never wanted anything more than this…

  I want…him.

  “We have to stop,” he says between shallow breaths. “I want this more than you can imagine, but not while things are too complicated.”

  He kisses my nose. “When this happens, it’s because we can be committed to each other. Because once I have you, I won’t be able to pretend that I don’t need you—that I can’t live without you by my side.”

  I’m frustrated with him, with myself, with the entire situation. Before I can get truly upset, the baby kicks, reminding me that there’s someone who is our number one priority.

  This could be a great moment to say, “Your life would be easier without us.” I just don’t have the heart to let him go anymore, because he owns my heart.

  He kisses my cheek and goes inside the suite. When he comes outside, he hands me a gift.

  “Christmas was a week ago,” I joke, staring at the small present laying on my palm.

  He rolls his eyes. “You have to get used to the fact that I like to shower you with presents.”

  My heart is all mushy because of this man. He keeps sending me flowers, bringing me ice cream, or just gifting me little things because he thought of me.

  Meticulously, I unwrap the box and inside is a gold chain with a rattle charm in the shape of a heart that has a tiny blue stone that is almost the shade of his eyes. I frown and look at him.

  “Well, the baby rattle is obvious, and the other is…me,” he shrugs. “I want you to have something that symbolizes the three of us. Maybe someday we’ll add to it when we have more kids. If you want more, that is.”

  I want to remind him that we shouldn’t be having these kinds of discussions where we teeter around the edge of our feelings, that we have to keep everything inside. Pretending that I don’t adore this man is becoming more and more difficult.

  “This…you and me—”

  He places his index finger on my mouth and shakes his head. “No, I can’t hear anything remotely nice or I’ll break my promise, and that might fuck the future of our baby.”

  He tilts his head toward the bedroom. “Come on. Time for bed.”

  “You’re sending me to my room, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not a saint, and I’m running in self-control fumes,” he confirms, giving me a chaste kiss on the lips.

  My hands curl around his biceps. I stop him because I’m not ready to let him go just yet. He looks down at me and I realize that I’ve never wanted anyone, or anything, more than I want this and us. It’s nearly painful, but he’s right. It’d be a billion times worse if we lose our baby. It’s weird to go from never stopping to realizing that there’s more in life than work and a career.

  To finally be in love with someone. To finally enjoy the sunrise, the sunset, and life without worrying about reaching for the goals I keep raising.

  “Sweet dreams, beautiful,” he whispers as he bends down to kiss my cheek and then leaves.

  Forty-One

  Nate

  Throughout January, Ford is in Seattle most of the time. We’re launching a new product in February. Persy comes along, and other than Simone, her cat, and Brock learning to get along, the visit is pleasant. Unfortunately, the next month I have to be in New York most of the time—and Ford too.

  Leaving Nyx in Seattle doesn’t sit well, but she can’t fly during her third trimester. I call her at least twice a day, and we text all day long. I hate that I am home only on the weekends, but I’m making sure that when our blueberry is born, I can be in Seattle one hundred percent of the time.

  One night, while we’re on FaceTime, she says, “You must be tired of dealing with all this.”

  “Of not being with you every day?” I ask. “Yes.”

  “No, of having to fly every week and…” she shakes her head. “Do you miss Brock?”

  “Not as much as I miss you, and before you offer to let me take him, I have to remind you that he chose to stay with you.”

  She smiles. “I think he chose to stay with the blueberry demon.”

  “Seven more weeks to go before we meet her,” I remind her, trying to keep our conversation upbeat. “Are we going to choose a name soon?”

  “I was thinking of Verity,” she suggests.

  “No,” I answer. “Verity…is it going to be Verity Brassard, no middle name?”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her if she would allow her to be Baby Chadwick. I want her to be mine too.

  “What’s up with that frown?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Nyx?”

  She’s playing with pendant I gave her on New Year’s Day. It’s become a habit of hers to play with it when she’s anxious.

  “Is it wrong to want her to be Chadwick…but then I panic when the answer is that she will most likely have to be a Bryant too,” she mumbles, and I wish I was there with her.

  “We promised we wouldn’t think about it.”

  Her eyes look up at me and they start watering. “I can’t lose her.”

  “We’re not losing her, Nyx,” I assure her, but fuck if this isn’t killing me because I don’t even know if I’m just lying to myself.

  All I know is that I can’t lose another kid. And I can’t stand thinking what’s going to happen to Nyx if we do. “But she’ll stop talking to you if you continue picking shitty names for her. Now, if you allow her to be a Chadwick, I’d be honored.”

  “What was your grandma’s name?” she whispers, and fuck if she’s not losing her strength today.

  “Gladys, and as much as I love her, I won’t let you name our baby that.”

  She smiles.

  “What?”

  “I really wish you were…” her voice trails.

  Her dad. She doesn’t finish the sentence.

  “If you allow me, I’ll be the best Dad she’ll ever have,” I promise.

  Fucking Edward. If Pierce hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve
been at his office breaking every bone in his body. The guy is a fucking weasel. We could drag his ass to jail. I have to be careful and patient. In the meantime, he’s breaking Nyx. Not because she can’t fight, but because he’s using the baby to get to her.

  Around midnight, she falls asleep. I keep the phone on because that’s the only way I can be with her.

  The weeks go by too fast and not fast enough.

  On her thirty-sixth week, I am officially working from home. The doctor says the baby can be born any day starting the thirty-eighth week, but with the blueberry demon, one can’t be sure. She does whatever she wants.

  Edward’s lawyer requested the judge make Nyx surrender the baby when she’s born. Fortunately, the judge shut him down, telling him that if he wants to see his child he has to travel to Washington. If he wants visitations, he needs to have a place here. Also, he can’t have her visit him at his address when she’s dependent on her mother. We start to panic when he arrives at my house, demanding to see the baby—who hasn’t been born. He is buying a property in the area, plus his lawyer is submitting new documentation that would try to prove Nyx isn’t suited to raise the baby.

  “Thirty-eight weeks, two days and I have to be at an emergency hearing,” Nyx complains staring at her swollen belly.

  On a Monday morning we are in a conference room with the family judge, Edward, his lawyer, who happens to be Sarah Bryant, Pierce, who represents Nyx, and Nyx too.

  “Pierce, I wasn’t told you’d be here,” Sarah glares at him.

  “I want to make sure this doesn’t go on for much longer, Mother,” he answers and then looks at Edward. “I hope this was worth the effort.”

  “It is, Son,” she assures him.

  “That’s his mother?” I ask, almost wanting to slice the tension between them with a knife. “Talk about family drama.”

  Nyx sighs. “You have no idea.”

  A couple of people enter the room at Pierce’s request and then he asks us to leave.

  “I need to stay,” Nyx insists.

  “Trust me.” Pierce waves his hand toward the door. “I rather you just get good news once I’m done with them.”

  We walk out and stand outside the room.

  “What do you think is happening in there?” I ask.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. Pierce has been having a lot of issues with his family, and shutting down their firm is one of his goals. Now, we’re in a different state so I don’t know what he is trying to do.”

  “The baby isn’t born yet. Can they even claim custody?”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t know what proof they have against me,” she answers, her hands are trembling. “But they are good at tampering with evidence—”

  “Hey, we need to calm down,” I say. “Deep breaths.”

  She does some breathing exercises while rubbing her back.

  “Are you okay? You keep touching your lower back.”

  “I’ve been having these weird cramps since last night,” she announces.

  “Contractions?” I ask.

  “No. Haven't you watched movies and TV? Women yell when they have contractions. I’m having these small spasms and my lower back bothers me when it happens.”

  She makes that sound again, the one that she’s been making since breakfast and then touches her back. I time her, and there’s just a minute between each episode.

  “You’re having the baby,” I declare.

  “No, I’d know,” she insists.

  “Humor me, please,” I beg her.

  “There’s no pain, my water hasn’t broken, and it’s not time,” she swears.

  “Just let a doctor confirm that I’m wrong,” I beg her.

  “I need to know what’s happening in there. This baby can’t be born until I know he can’t take her away from me.”

  “He won’t, I swear, but let’s go.”

  “What if they snatch her from my side.”

  “Can you trust me?” I beg her.

  I’m not sure what I’m promising because other than kidnapping the baby and hiding somewhere in the Caribbean, there’s not much I can do according to the fucking legal system.

  Forty-Two

  Nate

  My heart pounds faster the closer we get to the hospital. I’ve heard those funny stories where the husband has to stop and help the wife deliver the baby. Every time I hear that shallow moan Nyx makes, I push the gas pedal.

  We arrive at the hospital within twenty-five minutes. I text Ford as we head to the maternity ward. Nyx’s family is in town. They’re staying at an Airbnb close to downtown. I’m not sure if I need them, but I know Nyx wants them close by. I’ve done this before, going to the delivery room. But this feels different. When the doctor says she’s almost ten centimeters dilated and we just arrived in time, I almost say I told you so, but instead, I say, “We’re about to meet her.”

  “You won’t let anyone take her, will you?”

  “Nope. I’ll be right by her side,” I swear.

  She’s connected to several monitors. One of them measures her contractions. They have to break her water. The doctor explains that not every pregnancy or delivery is the same. Women are different. The average is what everyone hears, twenty-four hours of pain, water breaking dramatically, and the mother screaming bloody murder. Some are just serene, like Nyx’s.

  When she has the next contraction, the doctor says, “Okay, they are now spaced pretty close to each other. I think it’s time to push. Are you ready?”

  “Yes, you are,” I whisper, kissing her temple.

  I’m holding her, watching the doctor as she’s coaching Nyx to push and breathe.

  “The head is out,” the doctor announces, and I take a look at the squishy little face. With a second push comes the rest of the baby, and I’m asked to cut the umbilical cord.

  I don't think twice. I just do it with the tool they hand me and take the most beautiful girl in my arms. She cries, but when I say, “You're safe, my little love,” she sniffs, and I swear looks at me as if she knows exactly who I am.

  “Let’s meet Mama,” I tell her, handing her to Nyx who is sobbing.

  “I love you, pumpkin,” she whispers. “I’m Mom.”

  I kiss her forehead and then brush her lips. “You did amazing.”

  The nurse takes the baby to clean her and another one puts bracelets on Nyx and myself. I watch our little girl closely. While they take them to their room, Ford texts me.

  Ford: Security is on the premises. We’re on our way.

  Until I have a signed order by the judge, Edward won’t get close to my baby girl. He might have donated his sperm, but he has nothing to do with her. The only reason he’s been fighting Nyx is just to fuck with her.

  I grab the little pink bundle from the plastic crib and hand it to Nyx. “We still don’t have a name.”

  “Livia?” she asks and shakes her head.

  “Mairi?” I suggest.

  “Nivia?” Nyx counteracts and scrunches her nose.

  “Nova,” I offer.

  “I was thinking Wylder. It goes with Chadwick,” she says.

  “Leave Wylder for our boy,” I respond.

  She chews on her lip. “We…”

  “We will talk when the storm ends. I can feel that’s about to be over,” I say calmly. “We’ve been through a lot, but we survived, haven’t we?”

  She nods. I brush her hair and kiss her lips. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  “Flattery won’t get you far with me, Mr. Chadwick.”

  “Good, because I never want to be far away from you,” I assure her.

  Persy and Eros are the first to arrive. Edna and Octavio were on their way to Orca island and won’t be able to get back to Seattle for a couple of hours.

  “She’s so beautiful,” Persy whimpers. “I want one.”

  “You make cute kids, Andromeda,” Eros declares, smiling at my baby. Then he looks at me and asks, “What’s happening with the asshole?”
/>
  I shrug. “We had to leave the emergency hearing since the little one decided it was time to arrive.”

  “I told you she was a Monday baby,” Nyx protests. “She’s never going to let me sleep.”

  “Do we have a name yet?” Persy asks curiously.

  Pierce enters the room and looks at Nyx shaking his head. “She’s just like you. She couldn’t wait for a couple more hours, could she?”

  Nyx shrugs.

  “What happened?” I ask, because I need to make sure that this is the happiest day of Nyx’s life.

  He smiles and hands Nyx a folder, glancing at my baby who is now with Eros. “Edward relinquished his parental rights.”

  “What happened to him?” I ask, wanting to know if he’s going to come back. I know that those papers assure me that he can’t do anything, but what if he still wants to fuck with us?

  “Well, my cousin is going to spend a few years in jail. Fraud, embezzlement, bribing judges…the list is long. They are transferring him to Colorado. Mom lost her license. The rest will happen at home where the prosecution is ready to take down a few judges and law firms.”

  “Just like that?” Nyx asks.

  He nods. “We’ve been investigating them. I happened to find the last piece of the puzzle last week. This was going to be handled differently, but…they chose the hard way.”

  “So, what now?” she asks.

  “You’re officially on maternity leave,” he states. “I’m heading back home because I can only use so many days away from the hell hole before I get everyone in trouble. You three are about to start something new and wonderful. Enjoy it.”

  He leaves and Nyx glances at our little girl. “Can I have her back?” she requests.

  I take her from Eros, place her in her arms, and kiss them both.

  “What are you thinking?” I ask, hoping she found the name.

  “New,” she repeats.

  “You’re not calling her New,” Eros protests. “That’s worse than Apple, Blue, or Bear.”

  “Nova Gladys Brassard-Chadwick,” she says the name while looking at her. We know that the last name won’t happen until I officially adopt her, but I hope we can file for that soon.