by Lulu Pratt
Blake is leading me through the lobby of his hotel and to his car, parked out front. He is doing this, not because he is taking me back to my place after what has been an amazing weekend, but because he is taking me back to his own house.
We spent the weekend together. Saturday night was spent at my apartment. We made love all night. It was deep and passionate and the best sex we ever had. Then on Sunday, he asked me to stay at his hotel with him. I said yes. Again, we made love, and again, it was beyond incredible.
This morning, when we woke up, he asked me if I wanted to stay at his place for the remainder of the pregnancy. I didn’t even hesitate in saying yes. Why would I?
“You’re going to love the next nine months,” he says as he opens the car door for me. I slide into the passenger seat and smile as I watch him walk around the car and jump in. “Seriously, if you thought that one week you stayed with me was special, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
“Oh, yeah?” I laugh. I love his boyish enthusiasm. “And why is that?”
“Just ‘cause,” he says with a wink. He turns on the car, switches into first, and takes off down the road toward his house. No, toward our house.
“Wait,” I suddenly yell, grabbing his arm. “The books? I didn’t see you pack the baby books.”
“I did last night while you slept,” he says reassuringly. He reaches out and strokes my leg. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to forget those.”
Blake has been incredible with the books. When I first suggested that we buy them, he seemed less than enthused. But then, he did a full one-eighty and has now read more than me. Every day, I have caught him reading, and even before we fall asleep, he devours a few chapters. Seriously, his enthusiasm is beyond anything I expected.
It’s because of this that I know he is going to be an incredible father. I think at first, he thought that his job was done until the baby came. But now that he has realized that it’s only just beginning, he is attacking it with gusto. I can’t keep up.
“You really are something else,” I say. I look at him, catch his eyes, and smile warmly. He smiles back.
“So are you.”
I don’t know what I am going to do now. Last week, it seemed so simple. Have the baby, take it with me and never talk to Blake again. Done and done. But now, I don’t think I can. I don’t even think I want to. He keeps proving himself to me. He keeps showing me that he is in this for the long haul, and that he is going to be a great father. And I know that he is going to be.
I tell myself each night that soon he will mess up and make a mistake. That this will make it easy for me to say goodbye and not feel guilty. But I watch his face and that smile as he drives the car home, and I just don’t know anymore. I am starting to believe that he didn’t do what Lyndsey said.
“Here we are,” he says as the car turns onto his driveway. “Home sweet home.”
I can only smile as I look up at the house that is now my own. It’s incredible that I will be living here. I still cannot believe it.
We walk through the front door, and his housekeeper, Christina, greets us warmly, as she has every time I have come over before. Without thinking, I begin to make my way to the spare bedroom. This is where my things were kept last time, so I just assume it is the same.
“Hey, where are you going?” Blake asks. He watches me with a grin. “You’re not staying in there.”
“I’m not?”
“What? No. You’re in my bedroom with me. It’s your bedroom, after all. I’ve even already made room for your things.”
I beam at him, walk across the living room, and wrap him in my arms. “Incredible,” I say.
“Me or the house?”
“Hmm, let me think about that.”
He laughs and kisses me on the forehead. He takes my hand and leads me to our bedroom.
“Oh, and I’ve made a list of doctors in the area, too. It’s time that we found one, and I want it to be one you feel comfortable with. So, you have a choice.”
“You want me to go to more than one?” I ask, surprised. I know that’s what some people do. Well, a certain type of person. A rich person, but that isn’t me.
“Well, yeah. So you can find one you’re comfortable with. Trust me. They aren’t all the same. At least, that’s what I read. Is that a problem?”
“It’s just, how am I going to afford it?”
“You’re not serious, are you?” He turns on me and takes both my hands in his. “Listen, while you are here, you don’t have to worry about anything. Bills are paid for. Food is paid for. Everything baby-related is paid for. All you have to worry about is being as comfortable as you can, for both your sake and the baby’s sake. Oh, and your writing. I figure that you’ll have plenty of time for that now.”
I stare at him in total disbelief. I am speechless. I knew that he was going to be looking after a lot of the bills, but it hadn’t occurred to me that everything will be covered. And the fact that he has also thought about my writing, factoring that into everything. So thoughtful.
My face hurts from smiling. I can feel tears forming in my eyes and blink them away. I don’t want to cry, not right now. I want the moment to be nothing but joyous. I wrap my arms around his waist and hold him tight. He kisses me on the forehead.
“Welcome home,” he whispers.
“Thank you,” I say back, and I kiss him again. For a moment, the two of us stay where we are, wrapped in each other’s arms. Of all the moments we have spent together, this one is by far the most perfect. And the funny thing is, I know there are more to come.
Chapter 37
BLAKE
WHEN I FIRST started doing this with Carrie, I envisioned her as the woman who was going to have my baby and nothing more. I thought that maybe I would develop some sort of feelings for her. Sexual feelings, if nothing else. But I never dreamed I would feel for her the way I do now.
“Should I throw this out or keep it?” Carrie asks.
I look up at her and see that she is holding a hideous canary yellow dress in her hand.
“Burn it. Then throw the ashes out, and then destroy the garbage can you threw it into.”
She laughs and tosses the dress into a large trashcan sitting in the middle of her apartment.
I’m at her place right now, helping her to pack her things. Once I suggested that she come live with me, I decided that would not be enough. If she is going to be living with me, she is going to need to make the house feel as much like home as possible. I have, therefore, also suggested that she move some of her things in as well.
“And this?” She asks, holding up a dress of a similar ilk.
“New rule,” I say. “If you have to ask, the answer is going to be a no.”
I didn’t want a wife. That was never the plan. I want a child. But lately Carrie has begun to transform before my eyes. Or perhaps she has been transforming me. Although I don’t see myself as marrying her anytime soon, I do see myself as being with her.
Once we have this baby, I would be surprised if I want her to leave. I can’t tell her this, though. For all I know, she has no desire to live with me once it is done. For all I know, it is still about the money for her.
“Do your chefs mind, by the way?” She asks suddenly.
My head is buried in a cabinet, and I pull it out, turning to look at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, that they are cooking for three now?” She rubs her belly.
I laugh. “I think they are okay with it. The third member doesn’t eat too much yet, anyway.”
“For now,” Carrie agrees. “But I already feel myself getting hungrier every day. I predict I’ll be twice this size soon.”
“And you’ll look just as beautiful as you do now,” I say and give her a warm smile as I do.
I feel myself falling for her more every day. And although I am not fully sure how she feels about me, I am almost certain that she is feeling close to what I am. I want to ask her. But as I open my mouth, each time, I balk and ch
ange the topic. I am content now to live in ignorant bliss. She is moving in with me, and right now, that is all that matters.
“So, how are you going to go about telling your friends?” She asks.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s an odd conversation to have. Do you think they will care? They’ll think it’s odd, at the very least.”
“Honestly,” I say. I look into her eyes and make sure she is looking into mine. “I don’t care. Nothing they say or do will convince me this wasn’t the best decision I ever made.”
“We ever made,” she corrects.
“What about your friends?” I ask. “Same thing?”
“Yeah, same thing. I mean, Amy doesn’t care. She’s weird enough. And my few other friends, I could not care less about their opinions. Like you said, nothing they say will make a difference.”
And that is the truth, too. When I first started doing this, I was terrified of what friends would say. I was too scared to even leave Ben and Carrie alone for God’s sake. But now, it doesn’t bother me. When I see Ben, I will tell him outright what I am doing and why. If he doesn’t like it, so what? I like it. Carrie likes it. That is all that matters.
“And you’re sure you don’t mind?” She asks.
I look up from what I am doing. Carrie has stopped packing and is standing in the middle of the living room, looking at me. She looks worried. Her shoulders are slumped, and she is frowning at me.
“Worried about what?” I ask, confused by her sudden change in disposition.
“That I am moving in with you? I mean, I know it’s a big deal.”
“Hey,” I say. I’m in her kitchen, holding a handful of cutlery which I quickly put down. I walk straight to her, keeping my eyes fixed firmly on her. I reach her, and as I do, I take both her hands in mine. “You know how I feel about you moving in.”
“Do I?” She asks, still frowning.
“Yes. I could not be happier. Truly. You see this as imposing yourself on me. I see it as a way to keep you and our baby in my life and as close to me as possible. If you weren’t moving into my house, I would move into here. I have never been happier, okay?”
“Okay,” she says, that warm smile returning to her face. “Just checking.”
“I know you were.” I lean down and kiss her on the nose.
We finish packing. It takes another hour or so. She isn’t breaking the lease or anything like that. She just isn’t living in the apartment for a while. So, everything that she is bringing fits easily into a few boxes.
I scoop the boxes into my arms and lead the way through the front door and down to my car. I turn and watch as she closes the door behind her, locking it up. She won’t be coming back for a while.
I watch her make her way to me, now smiling permanently. I, again, have to pinch myself. I am having a child. I am having a baby with a beautiful woman who I can feel myself falling in love with. She is moving in with me, and I can’t, for the life of me, see how anything can go wrong. From here on out, it is all going to be smooth sailing.
Chapter 38
CARRIE
BLAKE HELPED me move earlier in the day, but he had to go to work after. I hate that he has to work so much. I don’t want to be selfish, but a part of me kind of wishes that he would quit his job so that he could stay with me all day. But I know that is unrealistic. He is, after all, a busy film producer. But even still, I miss him.
It’s only been a few hours since I last saw him, and I can’t stop looking at the clock, hoping that time has passed so that he will be closer to coming home. I’m at my laptop, and I should be working, but as I go to type, I stop, look at the clock, and sigh to myself.
The book is coming along pretty well now. Skimming through what I have written, I am surprised with how much is there and how good it is. I wish I could add to it, and usually, I would be able to, no problem, but today is different. Today, my mind is awash with thoughts of Blake.
I push myself from my laptop and walk to the kitchen. I’m getting a little hungry, and I hope that there are some snacks in the house. I’m sure that this early on, it’s just my imagination, but I feel like I can feel the baby inside of me. And I feel like he is hungry.
I’m in the habit now of referring to the baby as a boy. We both are. Not only will Blake make a great father if it is a boy, but he’ll be just as great with a daughter.
I walk through the house, taking note of how big and empty the place is. When Blake is here, it feels so welcoming and full of life. But when he is not here, it feels as it does now, cold and empty. In truth, I am bored and in need of a little company.
I smile as I suddenly realize what I can do to remedy this situation. I haven’t spoken to Amy in ages, and I quickly reach into my pocket and pull out my cell. I dial the number, feeling a little too excited at the prospect of talking to my best friend.
“What up, girl,” she says as she answers the phone. “Long time. I thought that maybe you had forgotten about me. Or maybe you had gotten a new best friend? That’s it, isn’t it? This is a break-up call!”
“How did you know?” I laugh as I fall onto the couch in the living room. The couch is as big as my bed back home, and I can literally lie and stretch out my entire body on it.
“Instinct. You’ve moved out of your apartment. You’re living with some playboy, for whatever reason that you won’t tell me. It only makes sense that you’ve gotten a new best Real Housewives of Beverly Hills friend. Who is she?”
“Her name is Sandra, and she likes to shop and complain about how bad a job the help is doing on her rose bushes.”
“She sounds like a treat,” Amy says scathingly. “Punch her for me, will you?”
I laugh at this. God, I miss Amy. The two of us could easily go on pretending that Sandra is a real person for hours and never miss a beat. The two of us can talk about almost anything really, and as we do, I suddenly realize how much I actually miss her.
Despite how great my life is at the moment and despite how great everything is going, best friends are hard to come by and even harder to replace.
“I miss you,” I say seriously. “Too much.”
“I miss you, too. Ugh, listen to us. You’re only in Beverly Hills. I’m acting like you’re in New York or something.”
“May as well be,” I moan. “While I’m here, I’m never going to get to see you.”
“While you’re there. Are you going to tell me why that is, by the way? You’ve been very coy about it, and I know you. I know you’re not the type to move for some boy, no matter how big his dick and or bank account is.”
“I can’t tell you, at least not over the phone.” Despite what I tell Blake, I am dreading telling Amy about what I am doing. I know she won’t judge me, but it will still make for awkward conversation.
“So, invite me over. You promised me that you would, anyway. I want to see this mansion and this man, both.”
“I will,” I say. “As soon as Blake gets home, I’ll ask when a good time is.”
“Oh, you’re going to ask Blake?” She jokes, dropping her voice in an attempt to make it sound snobbish. “Mr. Blake needs to give you permission.”
“It’s not like that,” I laugh. “It’s just polite. It’s still his house, after all.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she agrees. “I just miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
The two of us speak for several more hours. Honestly, we could talk all day and night. I have so much I want to tell her, and I have to make sure to keep a wrap on all the important stuff. The only reason that we do, eventually, stop is that I hear the car come down the driveway, announcing Blake’s return.
I quickly say goodbye to Amy, promise that she can come visit soon, and leap from the couch and run to the front door. As he walks in, I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around him.
“Whoa, someone has missed me.” He smiles at me.
“Oh, no,” I say, and I quickly let go of him. “I thought you were th
e milkman.”
“He comes at two.”
“Ah, I’ll remember that,” I joke, and I lean up and kiss him on the cheek.
“Plans tonight?” He asks as I follow him through the house and into our bedroom. I watch as he unpacks his things from the day and changes his clothes. It’s nothing interesting, but for some reason, I am absorbed in every little movement.
“You,” I say simply.
“Sounds delightful,” he replies.
* * *
As always, the chefs have outdone themselves. I don’t even know what the food is, but I eat two whole servings. For the first time in as long as I remember, I don’t have room for dessert.
It’s as I finish and watch Blake slowly chew his food, that the housekeeper comes up behind me. I jump as I feel her hand on my shoulder.
“Oh my God,” I say as my breathing calms down. “You scared me, Christina.”
“Sorry, miss,” she says. “But Mr. Blake wants me to give you this.” She holds out a little dish and in it is a small pill.
“It’s a prenatal care vitamin,” Blake says. “I read in one of those books that they are meant to help with digestion and cramping. The book always said you should start right away, so I figured why not now?” He watches me with a smile as I take the pill from Christina.
“Thanks, Christina. That’s really thoughtful of you. Blake, seriously, you can’t stop impressing me, can you?”
“If I ever do, let me know, okay? That way, I can step it up a little.”
I shake my head at his boyish smile. I then pick up my glass of water and use it to help swallow the pill. Blake is taking this pregnancy even more seriously than me, it seems. It’s time I start doing it too.
Chapter 39
CARRIE
“HOW DO YOU feel?” Blake asks. He looks at me, noting my shaking hands and sweaty brow.
“I’m fine,” I lie. I am fidgeting nervously, while trying me best to not look nervous. It isn’t working.
