The Rockers' Babies (The Rocker... Series)

by Terri Anne Browning

  Dabbing on the Proactiv mask that was supposed to help clear up my complexion, I finished getting ready for work. I knew the acne was from not taking my birth control pills and not altogether a product of the stress I was under, just as the heavy period I was having this month was as well. I used to have this every month until my mother had taken me to the doctor to get me put on the pill to help regulate my cycle.

  I had hoped that it had just been something I would grow out of, but I was worried that it was something a little more serious. Even back when I was just starting to have my period the doctor had said that it could be PCOS—polycystic ovary syndrome—that was making my periods the way they were and that birth control pills were the only real treatment for it to help with the hormone imbalance. For the moment, I was going to pretend like it wasn’t a possibility though.

  I was on day eight of my period now. I was tired, pale and zit-faced. Yeah, I was a hot mess. No way someone would look at me and think I was Shane Stevenson’s wife. Grimacing, I brushed out my hair, washed the mask from my face, finished the third step of the Proactiv regimen, and then applied concealer to the angry-looking spots on my forehead and chin.

  Dressed in a pair of loose-fitting dress pants—because I was bloated as hell—and the silk blouse I had picked up on my honeymoon in Mexico, I decided I looked as good as I was going to get for the day and left the bathroom. Shane was standing in the kitchen with the coffee pot full and a cup of rich smelling coffee in his hand.

  Blue-gray eyes narrowed on me in concern. “You look exhausted, beautiful. Just call in and tell them that you are sick.”

  “It’s just my period, Shane.” I took the mug from him, trying to keep my face hidden so he wouldn’t see how gross it was even with all the makeup I had put on to hide most of it. “Besides, I have to finalize next month’s cover on top of a staff meeting this morning.”

  “I’ve never seen you so pale. Not even when you had the flu last year did you look this pale.”

  “I’m so sorry I can’t be glowing every time you see me!” I snapped and put my mug in the sink, untouched. I was already feeling ugly, I didn’t need him to tell me how bad I looked. “I have to go.”

  “Harper…” I didn’t give him a chance to say another word. Without looking at him again I grabbed my purse and headed out the door.

  Peterson was already waiting for me and I climbed into the back of the town car he drove me around in. My phone rang with Shane’s assigned ring tone but I turned it to Do Not Disturb and tossed the phone to the bottom of my purse. Leaning my head against the window I closed my eyes.

  By the time Peterson dropped me off at work I had to stop at the bathroom before even getting on the elevator to take me up to my office. I was bleeding even more heavily today than I had yesterday. This was really starting to worry me and maybe it was time I faced my fear that I really was suffering from PCOS. I used the app on my iPhone for my doctor to set up an appointment for the next day before dropping my things at my desk and rushing to the conference room for the staff meeting.

  By lunch time I was dragging and my heart was feeling heavy. I’d ignored Shane’s calls to my cell and my office all morning, punishing him for something that wasn’t his fault. This was me feeling unworthy of him again, and all because of my stupid period. Damn it, I was going insane.

  A tap on my open office door had my head rising as I was going over the photo shoot layouts that we were going to use for the next month’s issue. My heart stopped when I saw the receptionist standing there with an arrangement of yellow tulips. “From the hubby,” she said with a grin as she stepped inside my office and set the flowers on my desk. “And there’s a note.”

  I didn’t say a word as she winked and left the office. As soon as she was gone I reached for the little card sticking out of the beautiful flower arrangement. You are the most beautiful woman in the world ~ Shane.

  Tears filled my eyes and I blinked them away rapidly as I reached for the phone on my desk to call him. “I’m sorry!” I sobbed as soon as he answered.

  “Hey, hey.” His tone was gentle, the one he used to soothe Mia when she was upset. It only made me sob harder. “Baby, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “It really is just this stupid period,” I choked out. “My hormones are all over the place. I’m sorry, Shane. This is turning me into a huge bitch and I hate it.”

  “I don’t know how to handle this…” He sighed and I pictured him running his hands through his short hair, the frustration on his face making his brow wrinkle and his eyes crinkle around the edges. “I hate seeing you like this. I just want to hold you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop fucking saying that!” he growled. “I love you, Harper. That means you don’t have to apologize for every little thing that upsets me. How are you feeling? Don’t get mad at me again, but baby you looked so tired this morning. I’m worried about you. I was talking to Em…” I sighed, because of course he had talked to Emmie about it, “…and she thinks that you could be anemic from all the blood you’ve been losing. She says you should call your doctor.”

  “I already set up an appointment for the morning,” I assured him, running my finger over the card still clutched tightly in my hand. You are the most beautiful woman in the world…

  “Good.” He sounded relieved. “Because if you had tried to argue I would have carried you there kicking and screaming. We’ll see the doctor tomorrow and get you sorted. And if she thinks that you should start birth control again then we will.”

  It felt like my heart was doing nothing but hurting today. Biting my suddenly trembling lip I just sat there, unable to say anything. Going back on the pill meant not trying for a baby of our own. Did that mean he didn’t want to try after all?

  “Harper? Hey, are you still there?” I sucked in a shaky breath and he groaned. “What did I say this time, baby?”

  “It’s stupid. I’m being stupid,” I whispered.

  “Harper…” His tone was full of warning that I had better answer him and not beat around the subject like I normally did when I wasn’t ready to talk about something.

  Muttering a curse under my breath I sucked it up and just asked him point blank, “Does that mean you don’t want to try for a baby?” The line went dead and I knew I had pissed him off. Great, just great. “This day blows.” Trying not to worry about the pissed-off man I had to go home to later, I forced my attention to the pictures still lying on my desk needing my attention.

  “You are the most frustrating woman on the face of the planet.” I nearly jumped out of my skin when Shane walked into my office not ten minutes later. He had to have been already on his way when I talked to him earlier or he wouldn’t have been able to make it here in such a short time frame.

  He slammed the door to my office and pulled the blinds closed to the window that looked out into the corridor. When he turned back to face me my heart was still beating like I had run a marathon. Wearing only a pair of basketball shorts, a faded old T-shirt, and running shoes that were tattered but his favorite to run on the beach in he was still the sexiest man I had ever seen in my life. The old Boston Red Sox baseball cap turned backward just made my fingers itch to push it off his head and run my fingers through his short dark hair.

  “Why would you say something like that?” he demanded, jumping right into the heart of the matter. “Scratch that. Why would you even think that? Damn it, Harper, haven’t we moved on from shit like this?”

  “It just sounded like you were having second thoughts,” I told him, still seated because I was in such awe of the god-like creature I got to call my husband. Seeing the anger and the hurt in his eyes made me regret even thinking that he didn’t want us to try for a child of our own.

  “That wasn’t it at all. Look, baby. You are obviously having a hard time and this is just the beginning. I don’t want you to hurt like this. I don’t want you to be so unlike yourself and miserable…” He raised his hands to cut me off when I started to
argue. “Don’t you fucking dare lie to me, woman. I want you to be healthy. You mean more to me than anything in the world, and that includes us having a kid. Do you hear me?” He stalked toward me, his eyes smoldering with a combination of frustration and love that had me squirming in my chair for something I wasn’t going to get anytime soon the way this freaking period was going. “Harper? Do you understand me? You healthy is more important.”

  Dumbly I nodded, unable to find my voice with my throat all choked up with a mixture of emotional tears and need for the sex god just inches away from me now. He put his hands flat on the desk and leaned forward until his nose was touching mine. “Are we done driving each other crazy today, beautiful? Because I’d rather be kissing you than arguing with you.”

  I pressed my lips to his, letting that be my answer.

  Shane

  For the second time in a week I sat with Harper in her doctor’s office, waiting for the results of the tests the woman had done the last time we had been in here. Blood work, ultrasound, and a few other things that I hadn’t been allowed in the room to witness and Harper hadn’t explained to me. I was a nervous wreck and had been since the last time I had sat here and the doctor had said that Harper could have something that was called PCOS or something far, far worse… cancer.

  I hadn’t known what PCOS was so I had googled the shit out of it the moment we had gotten home the other night. Once I knew what we were dealing with I had been praying for the PCOS. Polycystic ovary syndrome caused a hormone imbalance that could produce ovarian cysts, the heavy period that Harper was still having even now—or no period at all in some cases, as well as any number of other changes that she had been showing signs of over the last two weeks of this hellish period.

  The cancer possibility? Yeah, I hadn’t let myself think about that much because the few times I actually had I had gone to a very bad place.

  Cancer was some scary shit and I wasn’t going to be able to handle anything in life if that fucker tried to take away my girl.

  Harper sat beside me in a chair that, while only a few inches away from my own, felt way too far away for my comfort. She was holding my hand, having been my rock from the moment the doctor had told us what she suspected was going on with Harper. It should have been the other way around. I should have been the one who looked like I could conquer the world and everything else that looked like a threat to the person who meant more to me than life. I should have been the one who had held her the night we had gotten home from the first appointment while she cried silent tears.

  Instead it had been her, looking strong and determined while I stood shaking in my running shoes. It was she who held me while I cried. Because I couldn’t fucking handle even the thought of losing her.

  Emmie was worried about me, but I couldn’t talk to her about this yet. Harper had asked me not to tell anyone, including Emmie until we knew what we were dealing with. Everyone was still recovering from the stress of the twins, who were still in the hospital, and Lucy’s kidnapping. It had made this whole thing even harder for me, not being able to talk to my brother or even Emmie. Em knew that there was something wrong, was calling me almost every hour. I hadn’t taken any of her calls and kept in contact only through texts because I knew I would have broken down and let it all out.

  As soon as we were done here I would call her, I promised myself. If this shit turned out to be bad then I was going to need Em as much as I was going to need Harper to hold onto.

  The doctor finally pulled Harper’s test results up on her iPad and nodded her graying head. “It’s exactly what I suspected, Harper,” the woman said, and I was sure I was going to vomit. Fuck… “PCOS is treatable and you were doing really well on the birth control pills. I think you should start back on those and we can see if that will get you back to normal.”

  Relief washed over me. Harper squeezed my hand, shooting me that beautiful smile. “That’s good news.”

  The doctor shrugged. “It is treatable, but you had mentioned a few weeks ago that the two of you wanted to try and have a child…” The doctor looked sympathetic and her voice became gentle as if she were about to deliver bad news. My gut clenched again because I felt Harper’s hand start to tremble. “…But your PCOS is so severe that I don’t think that will ever be a possibility.”

  “But she’s okay, right?” I asked, needing to make one hundred percent sure. Nothing else really mattered. Who the fuck needed kids? I had all I wanted right beside me. “She’s going to be all right?”

  The older woman gave me a small smile. “Your wife is going to be fine, Mr. Stevenson. The inability to have a child…” her gaze went back to Harper who now had her head bowed, “…well that can take its own toll.” She stood. “I’m going to give you two some privacy. Take your time.”

  As soon as the door closed behind the doctor I pulled Harper into my lap. I was shaking with relief, but she was motionless. Her head leaned against my chest and she just sat like that for a long moment while I ran my hands up and down her spine. “I feel… empty,” she whispered as the first sob racked her and shot me straight in the heart. “Why do I feel so empty?”

  “Sweetheart…” I kissed the top of her head, “…I’m sorry. I know that you wanted our baby…” My voice trailed off because I didn’t know what else to say to her. Maybe I was a selfish bastard. Okay, there was no maybe about it. I really was a selfish bastard, because right then it didn’t bother me that we weren’t going to get to have a child of our own. I was so happy that I wasn’t going to have to face the fear of losing Harper that nothing else in the world mattered. I didn’t need a kid of our own.

  I just needed her.

  Chapter 27

  Emmie

  My calendar was spread out in front of me and I was trying to figure out exactly how to fit in going to New York for the birth of Lana and Drake’s daughter and be back here in time for the twins to be released from the hospital. Lana’s due date was next week and the doctor had said that more than likely Luca and Lyric would get to come home. The twins’ sleep apnea alarms had been going off less and less but still not three nights in a row yet, but next week was looking like a huge possibility.

  “You have a meeting with Mia’s preschool teacher in two hours.”

  I didn’t even look up at the woman as she spoke and I was sure that she hadn’t been expecting me to anyway. I’d hired three assistants so far and only one of them had made it longer than a week. The first one had quit because she couldn’t take my attitude. I’d told her the day I’d hired the woman that I wasn’t an easy person to work for. She hadn’t believed me, which had been made blatantly apparent when I had started chewing her out for not immediately telling me when Lana had been on the phone—an emotionally wrecked Lana at that. Stupid bitch—the ex-assistant, not Lana.

  The second assistant had quit when I had told her point blank that my husband was my husband and not ever going to start an affair with her. I didn’t even remember the woman’s name because for one she hadn’t worked for me for longer than five hours before she was trying to get Nik to sign her tits. For another, she really hadn’t been worth getting to know. The chick probably could make it big on screen, though. She had fooled me into hiring her, pretending to be a serious career-minded individual who wanted to learn the music business.

  Rachel was a different story, though. She had proven to be efficient, handling all my phone calls, the mail and most of the emails that came in. She was thirty-eight and had the tone of an angry fifth-grade teacher who only softened when she spoke to Mia and Lucy, which deterred most people who were only calling to annoy the hell out of me. Having spent her life in a house full of nothing but chaos she knew how to micromanage and kick ass over the phone.

  Honestly, the woman was a godsend. Now if only I could clone her my life would be so much simpler. “Thanks,” I muttered, still considering the calendar.

  “Your husband wants to know if you want to pick up dinner while you’re out or if he should grill steaks
.” I flicked my eyes up but only briefly, wincing as soon as I did so because my eye was still pretty sensitive. The scar that went from my hairline to my eye brow was itchy and irritating, but it didn’t compare to the lingering pain underneath. “Shane asked me to have you call him at your earliest convenience…”

  I picked up my cellphone, ready to call him back now. Shane and Harper were going through a lot at the moment. Well Harper was, Shane was in a better place than she was at the moment. Which probably made it all the worse for poor Harper. She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t more upset over them being unable to have kids. I could see it from both of their points of view. Shane was just happy to have Harper and not have to worry about losing her to the dreaded C word. Harper was slipping deeper into depression more and more every day because she wasn’t going to be able to have something I cherished every day. That depression was also making old scars resurface and crack open.

  “…and Axton Cage is holding on line two.”

  “Ax?” I frowned and reached for the phone on my new desk instead of my cell. Everything in the guesthouse was new actually, except for the small kitchen that I hadn’t bothered to have taken out. It had taken two weeks to get the layout I had wanted from the contractor. What had once been the living room was now a reception area that had Rachel’s desk as well as a few chairs and the walls were covered in beautifully framed posters of both Demon’s Wings and OtherWorld. The bedroom was now my office and really my sanctuary since I hid out in here more often than anywhere else. Rachel had made it so easy for me to push off things on to her.

  That Axton was calling my office and not my cell was enough to cause me to worry. He texted me twenty times a day even if it was just to say hi or send me a picture he had found on Facebook. “Hey,” I greeted. “What’s up?”