Catching Preeya (Paradise South Book 3)

by Rissa Brahm

  Replaced by a soothing realization that the child growing inside her was Ben’s. God, what she’d taken for granted. All he’d wanted was for her to share her life with him. The decisions about their family. Ben just wanted the best for her. The best for the baby, and the best for them. Ben Trainer set the bar—not a selfish bone in the man’s entire body.

  She felt numb, frozen in time.

  Read the rest and be done—so she could…do something. Change something. Fast.

  Her finger traced down the muddled page of scratch to find her place.

  In closing, Preeya Patel, some things have changed…while some have not. Undoubtedly, Josh is still a cocksucker. A selfish prick. And that may never change. But here’s to people like you and, now me, acting otherwise. The way you spoke of your mother, the woman who’d left you and your sister to help the children of the godforsaken world. That struck me, man. It truly did. For a child to take such a hit, and not to be bitter and sour and ugly, but instead to show love and compassion to your helpless little sister. I hope to find more selfless people like you…

  Other words based on illusion followed. Then, Truly yours. Dawn.

  And a cell number.

  How insane.

  And motivating.

  She stood up. Things were clearer than ever. She spun around, nowhere to go, but, God, she had to do or go or say something to change the course of things. Like Dawn’s compulsion into Sandpoint Way, she needed to fix what she’d broke, and she had to do it now.

  CHAPTER 56

  An avalanche of truth buried her.

  Time to dig out.

  Call Gigi. Tell her that what Gigi’d done—going against Ben’s wishes—it wasn’t okay. And that she’s sorry, but Gigi couldn’t be her child’s godmother. And she understood if she didn’t want Preeya to be Gigi’s baby’s either. Though it hurt her heart.

  And it would rock Gigi’s.

  Bad timing. Okay, maybe she’d wait. To upset her best friend in the same state, farther along, in fact. She would not do to Gigi what Gigi had done to her. She loved Gigi like a sister, always.

  But she was ready to prove to Ben where her loyalties lied.

  With him.

  And she needed help to do that. To prove to Ben that he was it.

  She picked up her cell.

  And dialed Sylvia—more of a mother to her in six months than anyone else had ever been.

  “Sweetie, we’ve been trying to reach you for days, and to be honest, if we didn’t hear back by the end of today, we were booking a flight up to you.”

  “I’m sorry to have worried you.”

  “I’m just glad to hear your voice, that you’re okay…but, Preeya, are you? Okay? Because Ben called your father. Told him to hold off on…well, he was planning—”

  “Planning what?”

  “The day you and I had coffee Ben had apparently brought your father in on a secret. Ben arranged with his sister to surprise you. In Vallarta. A beach wedding, a tiny ceremony, right after you guys became…‘courthouse legal’. But the other day he called to ask your father to hold off on buying the tickets. He wouldn’t say why…just that we should call you, make sure you’re okay because he had to take a long-distance long job in Texas? Why didn’t you guys ask us if money is an issue, Preeya?”

  “It’s not, Sylvia. Money’s not an issue.” She snorted, holding the eleven-thousand-dollar check in her hand. “No, it’s not money, and it’s not Ben. It’s me, all me. I screwed up royally and now I need to make it right. I need help, though. I need your help to fix this…please.” No panic, just stoic surrender.

  “Of course, sweetheart.” Sylvia paused. “Indra, I’ve got Preeya on the phone. Come!” Back on the call. “Can I put you on speakerphone, sweetie? Your dad is here. We’re both here.”

  *

  She couldn’t believe he’d planned a surprise wedding for her. And one so vastly different than his first wedding, like he’d read her mind, her soul. Jesus, it made her heart hurt worse than it already did.

  But it was more confirmation that she’d found the one. And lost the one. Again.

  She’d correct what she’d nearly destroyed. Sylvia and her father were on it. She’d left Stacy a voice mail and waited on that return call, also.

  Now for Gigi. A delicate version of the truth, but it had to be done.

  Preeya sat down on the sofa and threw her swollen feet up while she found and tapped Gigi’s image on her phone screen.

  She waited for Gigi to answer while a jumble of words bubbled in Preeya’s mind. Her eyes shut tight as she tried to prioritize what to say first. Gigi didn’t know that Ben had even left. And how would Gigi take it, being the root of the most major issues?

  But bottom line, Pree…Gigi had only burst the bubble, while you had blown it up in the first place.

  She sighed. Truth hurts.

  “Pree, it’s like we haven’t spoken in ages! One second, though…over there, Dad, in the left drawer under the plates. Sorry, Pree. Lord help us, my dad is cooking dinner tonight.”

  “That’s rarer than an earthquake,” Preeya chortled, then felt a sudden worry prickle her arms.

  “Yeah, I, uh, had a bit of a…thing today, Pree—”

  “What? Geej, what is it—you okay? Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I didn’t want to scare you, especially when I was too out of it to really put it in perspective…” Clanking pots in the background. “Sorry, one second, Preeya.”

  Teeth gnashed, Preeya huffed her irritation and dread. She didn’t want to even imagine the matter. And she needed to shove down her impulsive fury at Gigi for not calling her. Hell, she would have done—has done—the same thing…keeping her own scenario close-lipped.

  “I’m back. Dad’s about to burn the place down, but lucky he’s got an in with the fire chief.” Gigi laughed.

  Preeya didn’t. “Tell me, Geej. What’s going on?”

  Gigi exhaled into the phone. “I had my weekly exam this morning, and, well, it’s nothing horrible”—Preeya had already stopped breathing—“but the doctor says I have placenta previa, which is—”

  “I know what it is, Geej.” Enter oxygen. Placenta previa—okay…it’s manageable.

  “Right, of course, med school.”

  Yeah, med school, which, as Ben had pointed out during their blowout fight, should have corrected her own screwed-up stance on her own pregnancy. Finding her mother? After all this time? Really, Preeya? The realization of her over-the-top stupidity now played like a broken record in her head. Previa is only one of a thousand complications that a woman could face. And Ben’s Jamie had miscarried….

  “You there, Pree?”

  “Yeah. I’m here, Geej.” My mind’s just unhinging, is all. “Partial or complete previa? What did the doctor say?”

  She heard Gigi sigh. “Complete. The cervix is completely covered, and at this stage, six and half months, my OB says I’m hereby on pelvic rest. No intercourse—check—no more vaginal exams—yay!—and no other activities that may promote bleeding. Basically, I need to take it really easy.”

  Preeya swallowed back her lack of words. Complete previa. She cleared her throat of the new knot of worry. “Not just easy, Geej…complete bed rest. Err on the side of caution here. I mean it.” And Preeya would do the same. Her own saga would remain completely off the table. Gigi shouldn’t, couldn’t handle any of it right now.

  “Which is why my dad is here. I know you can’t juggle any more than you already are, even with Ben, so Dad took time off.”

  With Ben…right.

  “Oh, Geej, I’m so sorry—”

  “Hey, quit it. I’m fine. Dad’s here. The baby’s healthy, which,” she said, exhaling deep relief, “is the most…important…” Sudden sobs broke through her best friend’s shield of calm.

  “You’re right, Geej. The baby’s healthy. That’s what matters. It’ll all be fine.”

  “No, Pree,” Gigi nearly shouted, “that’s not all that matters.” Her longtime
friend gasped for air. “Your baby. Your baby’s health, my God…and your health, it’s equally important, Pree, and today with my feet in the stirrups and the doctor’s face paler than it should ever be, I could only think of how goddamn selfish and downright…horrid I’ve been.”

  Helping her find her mom was less than prudent, but Preeya wouldn’t go as far as to say Gigi’d been horrid. “Geej, I think you’re overreacting just a—”

  “Pree,” Gigi growled, “let me talk. Tell me, did you see my text…from this morning? Because you usually answer right away and you didn’t so I’m praying you didn’t. Either way, I just need you to erase the damn thing. Don’t look at it—delete the entire string of…”

  But Preeya had already put Gigi on speakerphone two-rambling sentences ago to see the text. From Gigi. With an address and a name.

  Jenny Freedman.

  Gigi’s frantic talk buzzed like flies around Preeya’s head while she read the text again and again: 522 Dawson Street, Tucson, Arizona. Jenny. Jenny Freedman.

  She felt a dull kick then a follow-up rumble on her left side. From the baby. Jenny’s your grandmother’s name, little one. Your blood-only grandmother.

  Alive. In Tucson. With a new name. Not her maiden name.

  Gigi’s voice still hovered like radio static—overshadowed by inner sounds, deafening noise, namely Preeya’s pulse. It squeezed up the side of her throat and sent reverberating throbs of heat the rest of the way, to her forehead and eyes and ears. Wonder and questions pulsed through her thoughts with each wax and wane of the slow-motion pounding. “Gigi, are…are you sure it’s her? Are. You. Sure.”

  “Preeya, listen to me now. Ben…he told me not to bring her up, not to mention my idea now or ever. He was concerned for you, for the baby. I ignored him, the fucking idiot I am. I ignored him and it…it hit me, with today’s news. This condition, the previa, it’s a warning. You have to put this whole thing out of your mind, Pree. You just…just have to delete the text; delete the thought. Facing her, erasing the negativity, won’t matter a damn if…if there is no baby. My godbaby, Pree. Please…do you hear me? Just leave the whole thing alone.”

  Curiosity to numbness transitioning to irritation rooted in her diaphragm like she’d been sucker punched. Then it all snowballed into hot fury and erupted into her chest.

  “I will do what I need to, Geej.” No remorse. No guilt. “And, sorry, but Ben and I have decided to choose Stacy as our baby’s guardian, the godparent—”

  Beeep-beep. Her call-waiting. Preeya didn’t hear Gigi’s reaction over Stacy’s incoming call.

  “Listen, Gigi, I gotta take this call. Rest, and I love you. I’ll be in touch…next week. And I do…I do love you so much.”

  She answered Stacy’s call with her chest heaving, hands shaking, head still throbbing along with her feet and ankles.

  Ben. God, Ben. I wish to God you were here.

  “Stacy.” Preeya held back a river of tears.

  “Preeya, honey…what? What is it? Are you and the baby okay?”

  CHAPTER 57

  The cabbie put Preeya’s carry-on in the trunk while she lumbered into the backseat. “Jetta Air Departures, please.” She hugged her purse to her chest and exhaled until she was empty. Nothing left to do. She’d gotten Amy’s wedding planner in touch with Stacy who reserved the beach behind the Airington—the ceremony after the turtle release, which had been Ben’s niece’s idea. Then on to Las Caletas for their celebration by torchlight under the stars. They’d head to their Marietas for their honeymoon the following day. Their real honeymoon.

  The only unplanned, unpredictable variable—Ben. God willing, Ben.

  Her pulse spiked, teeth clenched. Wasn’t this what she asked for, the thrill? The unknown? Yes. Sky’s the limit, Pree. And her limitless love for Ben, her sky—he was worth everything. Worth it all.

  Screech. The cabbie slammed on the brakes. Her equilibrium got thrown to Sea-Tac while she and her fetus remained in the cab.

  “If you could take it easy on the stop and go”—she rubbed her belly and worked to catch her breath—“we, uh, just ate…and you seem to keep your cab in mint condition.” She lifted her brows and smiled.

  He winked in his rearview. “Will do, ma’am. Sorry. Due in, what, three months?”

  “Just about, yes.”

  “I’m having a little one in just about that time, too. Exciting times.”

  “Yes.” Her eyes shot down to her lap as she swallowed a tremendous knot of anxiety-coated…excitement. “A thrilling roller coaster ride, for sure.”

  *

  “Ben, I just feel like you ran again.”

  His nostrils flared.

  His sister threw her hand up to her jutted hip.

  “I actually flew, Stacy, and it was absolutely not the same thing.”

  “As what? The last time you ran from her?”

  Fuck. “That time she…she cut me off, out, up and down, when I told her about…it doesn’t matter. She figured it out, found me—”

  “Alive, thank God. You do and act and go out of…spite. That’s what it is. First, to spite Jamie for dying, then her parents for that whole medical review fiasco—”

  “Hold it…”

  “No, I don’t blame your anger there, but…let me finish, little brother. Now you take this job in Texas, leaving your pregnant fiancée out of spite…” Stacy shook her head at him. “Thank God she’s as rock solid as she is for all she’s been through. But you know, the one you always end up hurting most is you. You don’t give yourself the time or space to…to…”

  “To what? Dwell and rot? To settle? Look, past is past. Marriage is something I cherish. And my marriage was cut off, stolen from me. My next one has to be…worthy and…different, but better. And Preeya doesn’t want a husband. She wants…a follower, a support when it’s convenient.”

  “I was married, Ben, and sorry, but it was as close to perfect as Mexico is to Canada. And—”

  “And you, my dear sister…ran.”

  “Whoa!”

  “What? You did. You quit, took the kids, ran here to Puerto Vallarta, holed-up in your paradise cave. Max didn’t fit, so—”

  “Max didn’t earn or help or care or—”

  “Or what?”

  “Or love us, Ben. Preeya does love you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Stacy growled, literally growled. “She hunted you down to see if you were alive in Central Mexico, found you in Seattle, and now…now she’s alone in Seattle. While you’re here escaping. Again. Instead of, hey, doing one of a billion proactive things to work this out with her.”

  His chest tightened. But he said nothing.

  “What about a therapist?”

  “She won’t see a therapist.”

  “You wouldn’t, either. You are both so alike it hurts.”

  “Well, last month I offered, for her own stuff, I offered, Stace. To go with her. I bent over backward, forward and through, damn it.”

  “You can’t stop there. Why am I telling you this? You already did the long haul once, but that marriage…had an expiration date. Well, you gotta do it again. Push through again. Even if it’s hard.”

  “I pushed, Stace. And she stopped me. I can’t do any more than I’ve done. It’s not fair to either of us.” He raked his hand through his hair and yanked for the pain. “Maybe we…we fell in lust instead of love…I don’t know.” But he did—he did know, and that’s what burned so bad. He far more than lusted for Preeya Patel. He loved her beyond and back…while she maybe, probably, seemed to have only lusted for him. An idea, an image, a dream.

  “What about the baby?”

  “I will be in that child’s life, Stacy. I will be that baby’s father—to the fullest extent of the title.” He swallowed back a knot of hard angst, picturing Preeya opening the front door, that little news anchor Evan or some other schmuck holding her waist while she held Ben’s baby. Handing him over for the weekend.

  Fuck.

 
His voice cracked. “We can work out custody…and be friends.”

  “That’s insane, Ben. You love her.”

  “I know I do, Stacy.” His chest heaved. “I know I do.”

  He paced the room. His breath shallow, his spine staunch. “Bottom line, if she can’t come to me and discuss vital things, little things—everything—then it’s done. And I will…go through the courts. And I will…be fine.”

  He ignored Stacy’s clucking and head shake of shame.

  “Look, I still get a second chance at having my own kid. That’s more than I could’ve ever hoped for.” His chest lifted with a new fuller breath. “Preeya’s given me that chance. I’m thankful. For that, I’m so grateful.”

  His eyes sank with his heart to the floor.

  “She and I, though, we just…don’t know—and didn’t know—each other well enough.”

  Stacy began to tear up. He grabbed the tissue box and handed it to her, then squeezed her shoulder. “It’s just better this way. It is. Why put a kid through inevitable heartache? Starting out honest, separate…it’s fair. It’s real.”

  “Ben. You two are too…” Stacy’s eyed widened, tears broke free.

  “It’s best, Stace.” His heart racked his ribs. Jamie really might’ve been his one and only.

  “This is not best.” Stacy’s sorrow morphed into a death glare, and it began to penetrate his cheek until a text—thank God—pinged her phone. “Shit—I forgot. My meeting with Phyllis.”

  Ben narrowed his eyes.

  “My editor. You met her a year ago? Oh, never mind. But”—she looked around the kitchen—“I didn’t make dinner. You and the kids—you’re comin’ with me.”

  “I’ll make them food here, no prob—”

  “It’s at their favorite spot…so move your butt!”

  He looked down at his swim trunks, no top. “You guys go. I’m fine to lounge here…in my sloth-wear”—he opened and shut the fridge in a flash—“with a beer.”

  “You need to get out of the house, Ben…and I’ll drive so you can get a drink at the resort. Kids! We’re going to the Airington. Wear your nicer outfits!”