Baby Makes Three: A Brother's Best Friend's Secret Baby Romance

by Nicole Elliot

  “You’re such a jerk, you know I’ve always had an appetite.”

  “That was some decent eatin’, though. Lookin’ forward to watchin’ you slosh lunch all over your shirt.”

  I slapped him playfully on his chest, and he grasped my hand within his. He brought it to his lips and kissed the top of my skin, and I felt my breath catch in my throat before he tilted my chin up towards him and captured my lips in a sweet, resounding kiss.

  “I’ll be in just before lunch to make us somethin’,” he said lowly.

  “I could make us something if you’d like.”

  “Don’t bother yourself with it, it’ll probably just be sandwiches and chips.”

  “Let me do something for you, Flynn,” I asked.

  “What makes you think you don’t already?”

  He kissed my forehead as a blush crept down my neck, and I watched him go out to his farm as he began tending to all his animals. I watched him groom and feed his horses before he moved to check the bulls, and when he let them all out to pasture, I saw him disappear into the heifer den, probably to milk them down and check on the ones carrying calves. He was in there for a while, so I retreated back upstairs to take a shower, and that’s when my mind began to race. I thought about the conversation ahead of us that would eventually occur and all the questions I knew he would ask, and I felt tears crest my eyes at the very idea of accusing him of holding me back.

  My common sense told me he never would’ve, but my fears told me to not take the chance.

  I had no idea how I was going to broach the conversation, but what I did know was that Flynn deserved answers I’d been holding on to for many years. I also knew that I’d fallen right back in love with him and that not a night had gone by that I hadn’t yearned for him to stay with me. The few nights he did retreat back to his room were nights I struggled to sleep and woke up feeling cold, and I knew that when I carried all this back to Paris with me, it would take me weeks to reorient myself.

  Just like it did when I left him five years ago.

  I had to go back to Paris, my entire life and career were there. But it made me so sick to think of leaving him that I tumbled out of the shower and threw myself into the toilet. The breakfast I had indeed wolfed down came barking back up the tree, and when I was done heaving, I wiped my mouth, sat down, and cried.

  I had to tell him. I had to sit him down today and tell him everything. I didn’t know how I was going to start the conversation and I didn’t know if he would let me stay the last week or throw me out onto my ass, but I couldn’t keep doing this to him, and I sure as hell couldn't keep doing this to us. As easy as it was for me to just run from my problems, I was tired of running.

  I loved him with everything I had, and I’m not sure I had ever stopped… and because of that, he deserved better.

  He deserved answers, and he deserved those answers served to him. He shouldn’t have to dig, or begin the conversation, or even wait between my pauses. I needed to bring it up, and once I started talking I couldn't stop until it was all said. Until he had all his answers.

  Until he understood what had happened and that it wasn’t his fault.

  I pulled myself off the bathroom floor and eventually got dressed. The clock was blaring a few minutes past noon, and my hands suddenly began to tremble. I felt short of breath and tears were rising to my eyes, and before I could settle myself down, I heard Flynn’s voice waft up the stairs and ricochet down the hallway.

  “Chelsea! Lunch’ll be ready in about fifteen!”

  Chapter 17: Flynn

  I started throwing us some sandwiches together and pulled out a couple glass bottled Orange Crush’s. I knew that was Chelsea’s favorite drink if she wasn’t guzzling down sweet tea, and then I threw some chips and salsa onto the table before making a small fruit salad. It wasn’t the nicest lunch ever, but it would do before I had to go back and tend to the animals some more. I heard Chelsea shuffling around upstairs, and I couldn’t help but rush to the bottom of the steps when I heard her starting to come down.

  “I can get down a flight of steps now,” she smirked.

  “Rather be safe than sorry,” I smiled.

  She looked absolutely beautiful, and my heart thundered in my chest. She had on a pair of white linen pants and a tight, pink tank top. Her feet were bare, and her hair was fluttering around her neck, and the smile on her face sent shivers down my spine. I’d completely fallen back into love with this woman, and I intended to talk with her over lunch about trying to do the long-distance thing. I didn’t know what she was doing now or where she was doing it, but I wanted her to know that I supported her and that, wherever she was, we could somehow make this work.

  “Come on. I got sandwiches, Orange Crush, and chips.”

  “Oh God, Orange Crush. I haven’t had it in ages,” she groaned.

  We made our way to the kitchen table, and before we sat down, she snatched up her open bottle. She chugged it back and swallowed hard, moaning and groaning while she did so, and I felt a small tent growing behind my pants. A small drop of orange liquid trickled out the side of her mouth, and mindlessly I reached out to swipe it away. The orange drop hit my finger and pulled away from her skin, and when she looked at me, there was a hint of something there that I couldn’t put my finger on.

  “Just a little drop there,” I said lowly.

  She cleared her throat and dropped herself into her seat, and I went over to the fridge and grabbed her another bottle before I sat down.

  “Well, one of my heifer’s looks to be ready to pop within the next week or so. I’ve gotta place a call to the vet and have him come over to take a look at her.

  “Oh, wow, how exciting. You sure you don’t want place that call now?” she asked.

  “I’ll do it after I’m done eating. Right now, she’s sleeping, and I don’t wanna risk him coming over now and waking her up.”

  “How’re the bulls doing? Don’t you have rodeo lessons you give as well?” she asked.

  “I canceled and moved those around, so they won’t start up for another few days. Which is fine, because those boys need a rest anyway.”

  “Ah. Gotcha.”

  Chelsea was mindlessly eating her sandwich and seemed thoroughly preoccupied, and I started to become worried.

  “You feelin’ alright? Did something happen while I was working?” I asked.

  “Not at all. Why would you think that?”

  “You just seem a little… off, I guess.”

  I watched her nod slowly, but when she set her sandwich down and sighed, I knew I’d hit a nerve.

  “Chelsea, what’s going on,” I prodded, “are you getting nauseous again? Is your head still hurting?”

  “No no no, nothing like that,” she sighed. I saw tears rise to her eyes and I immediately dropped my sandwich. I got up and went over to her and dropped down to my knee, and that’s when I watched her face crinkle up.

  “Flynn, I’ve gotta tell you something, and I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it,” she sniffled.

  “Chelsea. I’ve got you. What in the world is going on?” I took her hand and started rubbing circles on it, but she pulled away from me and shot up from her chair.

  “You remember that night in college?” she blurted out. I slowly rose from my kneeled position and felt my entire body grow rigid, and that’s when I realized why she was so afraid.

  We were about to have this conversation, and I had no idea where it was about to go.

  “I’ll never forget it,” I murmured lowly.

  “Jesus…” she breathed. “I-I-I, uh… I have a confession to make,” she stammered.

  “Alright,” I nodded. I was trying to keep my cool, but I could feel my hands balling up into fists. I never planned on having this conversation, all I wanted to do was talk with her about us moving forward. The past was the past, and I was more than willing to leave it here, but she was apparently dead set on dredging it up.

  Shocker. Chelsea always seemed to be a
bit stuck in the past.

  “I got a job offer. In Paris,” she began. “And, um… it was essentially my dream job, you know? They were hiring me to be an apprentice to one of the premier fashion labels that dominates that area. Flynn, I mean… they don’t pay apprentices, you know? And they loved my stuff so much they were going to pay me.”

  I kept my cool and kept my mouth shut, but the tears streaming down her face told me she wasn’t done.

  “They told me I was due in the office June 9th,” she said lightly.

  “June what?” I asked.

  “9th…” she whispered.

  “The day after graduation,” I said slowly.

  I watched her nod, but there were so many things that still didn’t make sense.

  “How the hell did you get a place to stay that quickly?” I breathed.

  She slowly panned her gaze to me, and I felt my body grow cold.

  “You were researching places…” I trailed off.

  “For about a month,” she admitted.

  “You knew for a fucking month, Chelsea?”

  But, her pause told me everything I needed to know.

  “How long did you know about that job, Chelsea!?” I exclaimed.

  “They contacted me in March. Flynn, I swear to God I tried to find a way to tell you. Every time I researched apartments and every time I choked on how expensive it was going to be to live in Paris. Every single time there was an opening in a conversation I tried to tell you. But I thought-”

  I watched her catch herself. I watched her stop her statement, and my mind was running a million times a second.

  “Don’t you dare stop your sentence with me, Chelsea. You thought what?”

  “Flynn, please,” she whispered.

  “You don’t get to control this anymore, Chelsea! I made lunch and was gonna talk to you about how we move forward long distance from this point on! You’re the one that brought up college! Now, talk!”

  “You were gonna talk about a long-distance relationship?” she breathed.

  “Chelsea August!” I roared.

  “I thought you’d try to make me stay!” she shrieked. “I thought that if I told you, that you wouldn’t support me or approve, and you’d ask me to stay with you!”

  I felt my entire world ripped from underneath my feet.

  “You left me in the middle of the night after graduation. After I laid with you and told you I loved you and that you were the one for me because you thought I wouldn’t support you?”

  I could hear my voice rumbling threateningly throughout the house, and I knew my anger was raging out of control. My mind was spinning, and my body felt numb, and for the first time since that morning that I woke up without her, I felt like picking something up and throwing it against the wall.

  “Who was the one who encouraged you to pursue fashion?” I asked.

  “You,” she whispered.

  “Who was the one who fielded your parents when you switched your major from education to fashion?” I asked.

  “You,” she choked out.

  “Who was the one who encouraged you to send your damn portfolio off to Paris in the first place while you sat there, night after night, crying because you didn’t think you weren’t good enough!?”

  “You,” Chelsea sobbed.

  “Then why the hell did you think I suddenly wouldn’t have supported you!?” I raged.

  “Because I knew if you asked, I would’ve stayed!” she yelled.

  Her statement stopped me in my tracks.

  “I knew if you asked, or gave me a look, or asked me to postpone it, or even asked to go with me, that I’d do it! I’d do whatever you asked! And I couldn’t risk any of that happening! So, I just fucking left, alright!?”

  I felt my chest panting for air, and the room suddenly felt like it was devoid of oxygen. My mind had come to a complete and total halt, and I stood there while I watched Chelsea sob in my kitchen.

  But, one statement she made kept ringing inside my head. Like a little mosquito that wouldn’t stop buzzing in my ear.

  “What the hell would’ve been so wrong with me goin’ with you?” I asked lowly.

  “What the hell kinda rodeo farm life is in Paris, Flynn?” she groaned.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head before I turned my back on her. My heart felt like it had been shattered and thrown into a fire to burn, and I knew I had to get out of the house before I said something I was gonna regret.

  “I never would’ve made you stay,” I said. “I never would’ve made you toss your dreams out for me. Not after all the support you showed me with the rodeo.”

  “Flynn, I’m so sorry,” she breathed.

  “But you don’t believe that, do you?”

  I whipped around and caught her stare, and the way she seemed to buck up just a bit told me exactly what I needed to know.

  “You still think I would’ve asked you to stay. After everything, I did to encourage your fashion in college.”

  “Yeah,” she nodded, “I do.”

  I gritted my teeth and turned down the hallway, and I blocked out her voice yelling after me as I slammed through the front door. My hands were trembling, and my throat was wanting me to yell out all sorts of nasty and disgusting things, but all I did was rip my phone from my pocket and dial the number of my vet.

  “Yeah, need ya to come look at one of my heifer’s,” I said. “Yeah. I’m good. Just swamped with work. See ya soon.”

  I shut my phone and threw it across the yard before I made my way to the heifer’s barn. I didn’t give a shit that it was about to rain and I didn’t give a shit that I’d left a mess that Chelsea would probably feel obligated to clean up. I couldn’t believe that woman. After all the fighting I did with her parents to try and convince them that she could make a living out of fashion, how the hell did she somehow think I’d then try to stop her from pursuing that passion? I was the one in fucking college who consoled her self-conscious ass after she cried for weeks about not being good enough to submit her portfolio to them in the first fucking place.

  What kind of twilight zone was I in!?

  I knew I should’ve gone back and cleaned up that kitchen. I knew I shouldn’t leave it to her to take care of. After all, she was still technically recuperating, and I was still technically taking care of her, but I was too worked up, and the animals I had around my farm always seemed to calm me down.

  And, it was about time she learned to clean up her own damn mess anyway.

  Chapter 18: Chelsea

  I had one last appointment with the doctor, but the drive was pretty quiet. I kept telling Flynn he could stay behind, but he kept insisting he needed to come with me. I think a part of him was hoping I wouldn’t be cleared for my flight back to Paris. I think part of him--- just a small part-- was hoping I’d have to call my boss and tell him I had to stay longer because something had gone wrong, or my brain was exploding, or I was quitting because I was frustrated, or some other bullshit he wanted to happen.

  Because the ride home was even quieter when the doctor cleared me to go back to Paris.

  “I bet you’re ready to get back to work, aren’t you? Paris, I can’t even imagine.”

  The doctor swooned in the office, and Flynn actually walked out. That was the thing about a small town: people didn’t give a damn how others reacted to their bullshit. It was one of the reasons why I had been so anxious to leave. In Paris, if someone didn’t like what you were pedaling, you knew it.

  We got back to Flynn’s house, and I went upstairs. I needed to pack and make some phone calls that would cost me a pretty penny, and then I needed to try and see if I could access my email from somewhere. Maybe I’d try the public library on my way out of town-- hail a cab and sit there for a couple of hours. I’m sure I’d have plenty of shit to come back to, after not talking to anyone for an entire month, and I needed to make sure things were going well with my design line.

  After all, I had taken time off to come see my parents because once
I returned I’d be face-deep in planning my very first fashion show.

  I dragged my things out of the drawers my mother originally packed everything in, and I made sure to grab all my toiletries. Some clothes had been stuffed under the bed, so I dug them out and crinkled my nose at their smell. I went in search of a plastic bag I could put them off in, but Flynn simply ripped them from my hands on put them in the washer.

  “Hey! Flynn, I don’t have time t-”

  But, before I could get a word in edgewise, he’d started the laundry, and I was down three outfits.

  He wouldn’t talk to me, but he damn sure was making this exit a hell of a lot harder than it needed to be.

  “You can make some when you get home,” he quipped.

  I went back upstairs and let his comment roll off my back. I wasn’t sure what his angle was, but I took out my phone to call a cab. Of course, my doctor’s appointment was scheduled the same day as my flight out, and I had spent the extra money to get a direct flight from my Oklahoma hometown all the way to France. No layovers, no nights in other countries, just a direct flight that would kick me in the gut.

  But, it’d get me back to a city that embraced me. Unlike this pothole of a town, I’d been in for the past month.

  I jammed the last of my shoes into the suitcase, and part of me wondered how I’d ever gotten all this shit here in the first place. I sat on it and forced the zipper closed, and I sighed when I heard the crackling of tires roll up the loose gravel driveway. My chariot was here to whisk me away to the airport, and I grabbed my plastic bag of toiletries and shoved them into the front of my bag.

  I did one last double check to make sure I had all my chargers, but when the tires on the loose gravel started crunching away, I threw my bag down the stairs and rushed for the door.

  “No! Wait! I’m right here!”

  And it shouldn’t have shocked me one bit when I saw Flynn in the driveway.

  “Are you fucking kidding me, Flynn!?” I shrieked.

  “I’ll take you to the airport,” he murmured.