Pretend Honeymoon (Romance)

by Bella Grant

“I believe you,” he answered when I straightened. “I feel ashamed for the way I treated you, but I never imagined the vasectomy could had failed. I went to the doctor and he confirmed it did. Will you forgive me?”

  “What are you two talking about?” Isabella wanted to know.

  “We’re talking about the baby brother or sister you’re going to have,” Jarrod told them.

  “Jarrod!” I scolded him. I would have preferred we talk about it later.

  “Laurel’s pregnant,” he told them for good measure, in case they didn’t get it. “So we’re going to have a new baby, and I’m going to need you girls to help us take care of him or her. Can you do that?”

  “Yes!” they both cried in excitement.

  “We can always do a paternity test when—”

  “No, I trust you,” he affirmed with a smile. “I love you, Laurel. And you too, Ana and Isa. You’ve made my world a better place.”

  I could see he was worn out and drifting back into sleep, but I wasn’t worried anymore. I had a sense of ease in my spirit that everything would work out well. When he was finally out, I tiptoed with the girls from the room, glancing back at the man who had brought so much happiness into my life. This was only the beginning, and I looked forward to what the next nine and a half years of my contract would hold.

  Epilogue

  Jarrod

  “Anabelle Simpson.”

  Beside me, Laurel clapped almost as hard as I did, waving to Ana on the stage as she collected her high school diploma. We beamed proudly at our daughter, who had graduated with honors and had been on the honor roll all through high school. Tears brimmed in my eyes as I stared at her, the beautiful young woman, now eighteen years old, and who was so different than when she had come to live with me. Tall and slender with her black hair cut in a bob and bangs, she was my pride and joy along with all my children. She was heading off to Harvard, and on a full scholarship no less, so she could study law.

  “Isabelle Simpson.”

  We clapped as hard for Isabelle, who sauntered on the stage in a dramatic fashion, which was completely her style. Over the years, the twins had blossomed so differently as they grew into their separate identities. Isabelle may not have graduated top of her class as Anabelle had, but she had left her own unique mark as well. With purple highlights in her black hair and several piercings, she collected her diploma. She had been Prom Queen and had already started her own fashion line, which I had willingly funded. And not just because she was my daughter. She was gifted.

  Unlike Anabelle, she wasn’t going to a traditional university nor following a traditional career path. She was heading off to Milan to attend Instituto Marangoni, not a decision I’d taken lightly since it was far away. Whatever made my kids happy made me happy too, and it was a dream of hers that I wouldn’t blight in anyway. She would always be a plane ride away and had my private jet at her disposal.

  “Is it over now?” my nine-year-old son Jeff grumbled beside his mother. He had her fair hair, but outside of that, he favored me like the girls did. The day the nurse had placed him in my arms when Laurel had given birth to him, I’d cried, a man undone by the new life he was responsible for creating.

  “It will be over soon,” Laurel assured him, then turned to place her hand on my thigh and sniffed. “I’m so proud of them, but I don’t want them to leave home yet. It’s too soon.”

  I smiled at her with so much affection, my heart felt like it was ready to burst from my chest and present itself to her. She was an incredible woman, and life with her had not been boring these past ten years. I loved her more with each year that passed of our contract. She had walked into my broken life and been the glue that kept us all together.

  She was also very pregnant with our baby. Another boy, according to the ultrasound. I reached across her to rub her belly and as if sensing my touch, the baby moved and butted against my palm. I never got tired of experiencing it. We hadn’t expected another baby. My sperm count was still low, and we hadn’t really tried. We simply never used protection, and since another baby was never conceived, we thought it safe to say another wouldn’t put in an appearance.

  I loved it when we were wrong about things like this because I now anticipated the birth of another child. Especially with two flying the nest.

  “I think this baby is ready to come out soon,” Laurel whispered to me, grinning.

  “Two more weeks left,” I reminded her. “I don’t mind waiting. I have something for you.”

  I reached in the inside pocket of my jacket and pulled out a sheaf of papers, which I passed to her. She glanced at me curiously before taking the papers from me and unfolding them. I stared at the front page which had been stamped in red, “Invalid.”

  Tears shone in her eyes as she smiled at me. “Does this mean what I think it does?”

  “Yes, you’ve completed your duty to us,” I told her. “And I want to marry you again, for real this time. Not for the kids but for us.”

  She squeezed my thigh. “Silly, our marriage has always been real. And I haven’t been living these ten years only for the kids but also for us.”

  “Then no wedding?” I asked her.

  She shook her head. “But I can take a renewal of our vows, though.”

  Hooking her chin with my finger, I tilted her head towards me and kissed her at the same time the graduating class erupted in screams and shouts of glee. Once again, although there were more than a hundred people around us, we were lost in the two of us. Lost in our love.

  NOT SO INNOCENT

  by

  BELLA GRANT

  Chapter 1

  Ava

  “You can’t leave!” Ava groaned, sitting cross-legged on the floor as she rolled the packing tape over the flaps of the cardboard box. “What am I going to do without you?”

  “I have to,” Mateo replied, kneeling next to her. He rubbed her back, leaning his head against hers. “I don’t want to, but I have to.”

  “I know that. I’m just complaining.” Ava wiped a stray tear away. “I think it’s amazing. I’ve never known anyone who got into Harvard, but of course, it would be you. Because you’re you, and you’re incredible, and yada yada yada...”

  “I couldn’t have done it alone,” Mateo replied, his voice trembling. “How many hours did you spend reviewing my applications and helping me study? I’m going to miss you, hermana. I don’t think I even want to go anymore.”

  “Don’t be a dummy. Of course you do,” Ava argued, pulling herself together and sniffling loudly. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to either of us, and you’re going to love Boston. I’m feeling sorry for myself, that’s all.”

  “Cambridge, actually. You have to visit me,” Mateo insisted. “Promise me. You’re my best friend and I’m going to be miserable without you.”

  “I promise. And right back at ya.” Ava smiled, fighting back the tears once more. “Now, hurry up. We’ve got a ton of stuff to pack and no time to do it. When did you collect so much shit, Mateo? You’re such a hoarder!”

  “That is categorically untrue,” Mateo said, feigning offense. “Everything I have serves a purpose.”

  “Really?” Ava laughed, holding up a box. “Your PEZ dispenser collection?”

  “Those are collectibles, thank you very much,” Mateo countered, reaching into the box. “They might just pay for my tuition.” He wiggled the top of a Spiderman PEZ dispenser and grinned. “All right, all right. Keep packing.”

  As Ava reached for the next box of clothes to tape up, she couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in her stomach or the aching in her chest. She was losing her best friend, and even though he was going away to Harvard for law school, Ava knew it was the beginning of the end—or the end of the beginning, or something big and life-altering. It felt cliché, but things like this were cliché for a reason.

  When Mateo told her he had been accepted to Harvard, Ava had screamed and hurled herself through the air, tackling him in an enormous hug. His success fe
lt like her success. When she’d met Mateo in the foster care system, he became her brother and her best friend, all rolled into one. Each time she got bounced from the system to a foster home and back to the system, she looked for him. By the time they were teenagers, they were inseparable.

  Mateo aged out of the system first. He was two years older than Ava, and when she found herself on the street shortly after her eighteenth birthday, Mateo was waiting for her. They scraped together a patchwork of part-time jobs to pay the rent and made a home for themselves. It was the first time Ava had ever felt safe and secure in her life. Mateo was a dreamer and a doer, and his dreams pulled Ava into a better life, a life she had simply window-shopped before.

  Mateo had insisted they enroll in community college. When Ava protested, worrying they would never be able to afford it, he had pulled out a list of scholarships they qualified for. Together, they filled out financial aid applications and wrote scholarship essays, sitting on the floor of their unfurnished apartment, eating ninety-nine-cent cups of Ramen noodles. Mateo had a vision for them, and he made her believe in a better life, too.

  Although ambitious and hard-working, Ava had no idea where she was headed in life. Mateo knew what he wanted. He was going to be a lawyer, and he was going to get a law degree from Harvard. Every late-night shift they worked together, he would tell Ava about his plans and his dreams until they became as real to her as they were to him.

  After working through night classes, Mateo transferred to a university and finished his Bachelor’s degrees in Political Science and English. At his prodding, Ava had also managed to transfer to a university for a four-year term, although her path was less focused. Her classes ranged from Women’s Literature, to Electrical Engineering, to Entrepreneurship in Business. She still had a couple years to go when Mateo came home and asked her to help him with his LSATs.

  Shaking the memories from her head, Ava wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt and untangled a mess of packing tape. Somewhere in her reminiscing, she had managed to stick the tape to itself instead of the box, and now it was stuck to her hand, which she waved about like a cat with something sticky on its paw. “Goddammit!” Ava muttered, yanking the tape off with her teeth and spitting it out. She took a deep, shaky breath and reached for another box.

  As she folded his black graduation gown and placed it in the cardboard box, her mind flew back to this past summer, three months ago, when she sat in the stadium, watching her best friend graduate. She was his one person in the world, and she felt a little sad about that as she sat surrounded by families of graduates—mothers, fathers, siblings, grandparents. But when the dean of the university announced, “Mateo Hernandez,” and she watched him walk across the stage to receive his diploma, his honors tassel blowing in the wind, she cheered louder than ten people. Against all odds, he had made it. Ava had never felt so proud.

  Mateo came out of his bedroom with a duffle bag to find her crying silently on the living room floor. “Hey! Don’t cry!” he insisted, dropping his duffle bag and pulling Ava to her feet. “This isn’t going to change anything. I’m just a phone call and a plane ride away. You’re still my family. Look, I think we need to get out of here for a little bit. It’s too heavy in here. Let’s go to that new café downtown. I wanted to try it and this might be my last chance before I leave.”

  “Okay.” She nodded. The apartment had begun to feel claustrophobic, and all she could do was wonder how she could possibly live here without him in the home they had shared as family for the last three years.

  It was a bright August day, and Ava blinked in the sunlight as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. “Crap, I should have brought my sunglasses,” she said regretfully.

  “Here, wear mine,” Mateo replied, pulling his Ray Bans off his head and handing them to her.

  “Thanks, bud,” she said, bumping him affectionately with her shoulder. As they walked, Mateo tried to chat pleasantly, but Ava couldn’t find her normal level of cheerfulness. She was chased by the ghosts of their past and the ghosts of a future without him. Although she wanted to concentrate on the moment while he was still here, she was assaulted on one side by memories and on the other, by the prospect of an empty life, and it crushed her. She tried to clear her throat inconspicuously, but it didn’t work because Mateo grabbed her hand and stopped them on the sidewalk.

  “Look, you’re going to be fine. You don’t need me. You’ve never needed me. If anything, I need you. But we’re not losing each other. How many times did we get split up and bounced around in the system? A dozen? More? Distance means nothing. You’re my family, hermana. I’m not going anywhere. Not in any way that matters.”

  “I’m afraid that without you, I will just stall,” Ava admitted finally. As she heard them fill the air between one another on the bright, sunny sidewalk, it occurred to her that she was not just afraid of losing him, but of losing herself, too. Without him, would she finish university? Would she have any drive in life whatsoever? Would she slip back through the cracks? Mateo leaned on her, sure, but Ava felt as if she leaned on him much, much more. Now, she had to stand on her own.

  “You’re an amazing person, Ava. You’re the strongest girl I’ve ever met. Without you, I wouldn’t be where I am now. I sure as hell wouldn’t be going off to Harvard Law. You have to see that. Do you hear me? You don’t need me to get by. You just need to believe in yourself.”

  He pulled Ava into a tight hug and she rested her head on his shoulder. “I guess,” she said finally.

  “Okay, we need to work on that answer. You’re not convincing anyone.” Mateo laughed. “Come on. It’s hot as hell out here and I want my damned coffee. Cheer up. No more being sad today. Be sad tomorrow, when I leave. Okay?”

  When they entered the café, Ava took a deep breath. She loved the smell of coffee. She loved the taste of coffee. She loved damned near everything about coffee. Growing up in the foster care system, she had learned to appreciate the little things in life, and for her, that was the luxury of a nice French roast, luxurious whole beans shining with oil, freshly ground and brewed to perfection.

  The first thing she did when she aged out of the system and found herself on the street was head to a coffee shop and wait for Mateo. Now, as she stood at the counter surveying the extensive list of choices, she realized what a weird bookend this was, essentially saying goodbye to Mateo in a coffee shop, where three years earlier, he had shown up to take her to their new home.

  “What can I get for you?”

  Ava’s attention snapped back to the counter, and she scrambled for words. When she looked at the man who had addressed her, at his strong jaw and deep blue irises, she felt tongue-tied. Her ears heated, and she didn’t know what to choose. The line of people behind her was extensive, and Mateo had already ordered, so she just said, “Same, please,” and pulled out her money, not even certain what she ordered.

  “But you don’t like black coffee?” Mateo asked questioningly as they walked towards a seat in the corner. “Why did you order that?”

  “I…um, I was distracted. I didn’t want to hold up the line,” Ava confessed. “I don’t know. I just got flustered, I guess.”

  “I wish you’d get over that,” Mateo criticized. “You have as much right to time and space as anyone else in the world. Quit feeling so inferior.”

  “I don’t,” Ava started to say, but she dropped it. She didn’t want to admit the real reason she had fumbled her order. She didn’t want to admit to Mateo that she found the man at the counter incredibly handsome and had choked because of the way he’d looked at her. The easier course of action was letting him think she was just nervous and shy—which, admittedly, she was.

  As they waited for their drinks, Ava looked around the shop. This was the kind of place she loved, but at the same time, a place that had never existed before except in her dreams. It was quiet with a nice, low buzz of noise, good music, and an excellent vibe. The room was furnished with old leather couches and books, oriental rugs, antiqu
e lamps, and plants everywhere. It looked like someone’s apartment—if that someone was an intimidatingly cool person with excellent taste in bohemian furnishings. This was the kind of place Ava would be happy to spend all her time, and if the coffee wasn’t so expensive, she might actually do it.

  After a few minutes, the man who took their order walked over carrying two drinks. Ava was alone, waiting for Mateo to return from the restroom, and she flipped casually through the pages of The New Yorker when she caught sight of the tall man from the corner of her eye.

  “Hello,” he said confidently, bending to place the drinks in front of her on the copper-topped coffee table, his eyes fixed on her. “Here are your coffees.”

  “Thank you,” Ava managed to get out, feeling like a silly little girl. She was about to retreat to the pages of a magazine filled with comics she neither understood nor found funny, but she noticed only one black iced coffee. The other drink was an iced latte of some sort with a beautiful fern leaf painted in the foam with espresso.

  “Oh…um, excuse me,” Ava called to the man as he turned away. She felt flustered, and her palms suddenly felt sweaty. The secondary dialogue in her brain chastised her, shouting, Get it together, girl! Act like an adult. Listen to Mateo—you’re no less important than anyone else.

  “What can I do for you?” the man asked, giving her an amused smile. Ava couldn’t decide if it was cocky or confident, or whether she could tell the difference between the two.

  “I’m sorry, this isn’t what I ordered,” Ava replied quietly. She immediately raised her hand to her neck, cooling her warm skin with her brisk, clammy fingertips. It was one of the self-soothing techniques her university therapist had pointed out to her, and Ava was now acutely aware of it whenever she did it. The movement was no longer soothing.

  “Oh, I know,” the man said. Ava was transfixed by the perfect curve of his lip as it stretched into a grin. “You didn’t seem to know what you wanted, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t a black coffee, so I made you something special. I hope you like it.”