by Liz Meldon
Mason yipped, tapping his front paws, whole body quivering. Laughing, Skye finally opened the door and stepped aside, allowing her two boys to reunite in peace. Oz slunk out, stretching, then rubbed up against each of Mason’s legs as the dog nosed at him, whining. It really was ridiculous how much they loved each other, considering their rocky beginning—Ozzy had not been impressed that he was no longer the center of attention—but most mornings nowadays Skye found her big white floofball curled up somewhere on or around Mason, who always slept at the end of Cole’s bed.
“Okay, come on,” she muttered as she scooped up a purring Ozzy, cuddling him to her chest as she pushed into the small foyer. Although she still felt blegh, a purring cat could pretty much cure whatever ailed you. Kicking off her flip-flops and tossing her slouchy bag next to the closet, she strolled through the blissfully air-conditioned house, headed straight through to the kitchen. While the upstairs had all the bedrooms, the joint kitchen and living room space was absolutely her favourite. It took up nearly the entire lower level, and one wall was just an enormous window overlooking the small fenced-in deck, then the gorgeous, sprawling Pacific beyond.
She found Finn where she always did when he didn’t need to be at the office before noon—seated in the breakfast nook, various newspapers spread out in front of him on the table, and the news playing on the wall-mounted flat-screen across the room. With the TV volume on low, she deposited Ozzy on the couch as she passed by, and the cat quickly followed Mason to his water bowl—where she knew he’d sit and watch the dog drink, then paw at the unsettled water until he got bored.
“How was your walk?” Finn asked as he flipped the page of the LA Times, tapping his mug without looking up. “Meant to tell you I made my own coffee this morning.”
“Good, because I didn’t get any,” she said as she shuffled across the enormous open kitchen, skirting the granite-topped island to grab a glass from the cupboard. Light grey and gold flecked surfaces, white cabinetry, stainless steel appliances. Storage galore. It was her dream kitchen—even if Cole was the one who did most of the cooking.
Which, honestly, made it even better. Dream kitchen, dream man—the two combined made Skye one lucky lady.
“Hmm. How’re you feeling? Did the walk help?” She finally felt those onyx eyes of her other dream guy wandering her figure, and she glanced back to find concern etched into just about every feature on Finn’s handsome face.
“Not really,” Skye admitted with a frown, selecting the filter system on the tap to fill her glass. “I don’t know what’s going on. I feel so blegh.”
“Shall I make an appointment for you?”
“No, I’m okay.” Days of nausea wasn’t okay, but she didn’t need Finn fussing over her and bullying the doctor into doing a whole battery of unnecessary tests. It was probably just a stubborn stomach bug. No need to sound the alarms. “You didn’t tell Cole, did you?”
The other love of her life had been in Hong Kong for the last two weeks, with another two weeks to go, for some ultra-elite tech festival. It was invite-only and huge for his company, but she certainly missed having him at home. Although it had been a shitstorm when he first eased away from his regular duties, his anxiety maxed out for a long time, he had finally settled into a comfortable routine. Most of his flights were domestic lately, not international, which meant he was only gone for a few days here and there, working remotely from home the rest of the time. Given Skye was still job hunting in LA, it had been a dream.
Having him gone for a month was not. She was already neck-deep in Cole withdrawal two weeks into his trip. She and Finn ate out way too often without Cole to ground them. Also, the house was a mess pretty much constantly—dishwasher always full, clothes not quite in the hamper, dog toys everywhere. And she just missed him. Finn did too, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He sparkled a bit brighter when all three of them were together.
“I’m starting to think I should tell him,” Finn mused, closing the paper and leaning back in the half-circle booth near the patio door. “This has been going on for a few days. You’re usually less inclined to argue with him about this sort of thing.”
Skye guzzled down half her water in a single gulp, admiring the way Finn’s dark grey bath robe fell open with his repositioning to reveal a sculpted chest beneath. Yum. Even if they were two years deep into this relationship, Skye still found her heart pitter-pattering at the sight of Cole and Finn’s bodies. The sex only seemed to get better with time—that probably had something to do with it, why she turned into a horny teenager at the slightest slip of skin.
“Skye?” She found him smirking, as if knowing exactly what had distracted her. “Are you listening?”
“Don’t tell Cole,” she said, leaning against the island. “He’ll just worry, and he doesn’t need to while he’s so far from home. You know what that will do to him. I’m fine.”
“You look a bit pale.”
“You look a bit pale.”
Finn rolled his eyes and grabbed the next paper from his stack. “Fine. Be stubborn. But if you’re still feeling like this tomorrow, I’m taking you to see Doctor Hendricks—even if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she purred back, wiggling her eyebrows as he glanced up again. When he didn’t drawl something deliciously sexy in return, she finished the rest of her water and huffed. “Okay. Deal.”
“Good, I…” Finn trailed off at the sound of his phone beeping, and Skye busied herself with refreshing Mason’s water and topping up Oz’s kibble. As she strolled back to the pet food bowl area near the hallway, she heard Finn tell her the message was from Cole.
“Oh?”
“He says to turn on your phone,” he said with a chuckle, tapping around on the screen. “Or just check your email. He’s found a few additional job vacancies you can add to your search.”
With a glowing reference from Hans at Gallery Sens, Skye figured she would at least be able to get her foot in the door a little easier this time around. She had worked her way up to curator’s assistant and tour guide at the little sex museum before she left Coral Bay. Moving was stressful enough, however, and with two billionaire boyfriends, she didn’t feel the need to rush the job search just yet. When something perfect came along, she planned to jump on it. Cole, meanwhile, had been job hunting for her before they’d even packed the first box. At first she had tried to stop him, but it seemed to be helping his stress levels more than hers, so she let him forward daily job postings and the like her way.
“Give him a kiss for me,” she said, drumming her fingers on the island countertop. With her stomach looping, she had no idea what she wanted to eat for breakfast. Maybe some bread to settle things? With the way she was feeling, Skye didn’t even want to think about food, but she knew she needed something.
“Where’s the fucking kiss emoticon?” she heard Finn grumble, hunched over his phone and tapping at it with his two pointer fingers. He was a hunt and peck texter and typer, through and through, and neither Cole nor Skye would ever let him live it down. As the oldest in the trio, he already got the bulk of the senior citizen jokes. Just as she was about to make one, however, he looked up with a dazzling grin that made her cheeks hot. “Could you be a lamb and flip my eggs? I think they’re getting too crispy…”
“Can’t have that, can we?” She sauntered over to the stove, grabbing the spatula beside it and gripping the pan handle. However, as soon as she flipped one sizzling egg, the extra potent whiff of fried egg finally pushed her over the edge. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she bolted out of the kitchen, barely making it to the main floor guest bathroom before retching her guts out into the toilet.
“Skye?” Bare feet slapped against tile as Finn hurried after her, and she tried to close the door, not wanting him to see her puking up what little she had in her stomach so early in the morning. True to form, he batted her groping hand away and crouched beside her. As another wave of nausea struck
, forcing her to dry heave into the porcelain bowl, he rubbed his warm hand up and down her back. With her head spinning and some cold sweats taking hold, Skye didn’t want to be touched.
“Finn,” she croaked, shrugging him off. “Jus’ gimme a sec…”
He sat back on the bathroom floor until she got everything out of her—and then some. Groaning, Skye flushed the mess away and plopped down across from him, face sweaty and flushed. Without a word, he stood and ran a cloth under the tap, and Skye closed her eyes as he wiped around her face, then tossed it somewhere. A few moments later, he had a second cold cloth to press against her forehead, and she realized she was shaking.
“I’m taking you to the doctor,” he said firmly. “This morning.”
“I’m fine,” she argued, eyes closed as she took deep, even breaths. “Whatever it was is all out of me finally. I’ve been nauseous for a few days, now it’s gone.”
“People don’t get nauseous for a few days without a reason—”
“It’s been mostly in the morning,” Skye argued, finally staring up at him as he loomed overhead, hands on his hips and robe half open. “I’m usually fine the rest of the day. I…”
Wait.
Wait.
Her heart pounded, a high-pitched ring sounding between her ears as she started to piece things together.
“Skye? What is it?”
“I…” She held out a hand and Finn helped her up. Tossing the wet cloth in the sink, she leaned back against the wall, still hot and uncomfortable—and now shifting into panic mode. “I don’t remember having my period last month. Do you?”
“I… I…” He scratched at his two-day-old stubble, frowning. “I don’t remember.”
“I know I messed up my pills with the move, but I thought…” She swallowed hard—then made a face at the gross post-vomit taste. After a quick mouth-rinse in the sink, she pushed by Finn and hurried up the nearby staircase to her bedroom, then into her private bath. Skye went straight for the medicine cabinet, Finn and Mason at her heels, and grabbed her birth control pills, then the little calendar she used to track her cycle. When they’d moved, she’d gotten her days mixed up—all the chaos of moving three people and two pets had really done her in, given the men in her life still had to work in the meantime. And. She’d missed three pills. Usually she was so careful. Wordlessly she held up her calendar with the X’s marked for the days she had missed, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“Okay. Okay. Okay,” Finn rambled, marching back into her bedroom before reappearing at the bathroom door seconds later. “Okay. Okay, we just… Okay.”
“Stop saying okay!”
“I’m making a doctor’s appointment,” he said, gaze distant—she could practically see the wheels turning. “Then I’m going to the drugstore to pick up some tests. It’s fine. We’re fine. Do you…” He looked to her sharply. “Do you feel fine?”
“I don’t know, Finn!” She threw her hands up, then tossed her pill packs and her calendar on the counter. “I don’t feel like throwing up anymore, so I guess that’s a plus.”
He stalked away, muttering okay over and over again under his breath. Mason stayed put in the doorway, looking between them like he was watching a world-class tennis match, and Skye took a deep breath.
Okay.
“I’ll make the doctor’s appointment,” she said gently, catching Finn on his next round of pacing. She took him by the arm, leaned up on her toes, and kissed his cheek. “Go to the drug store. We’ll regroup in twenty minutes.”
“Okay.” He leaned down to kiss her, but Skye turned her head at the last moment so he got cheek instead. He then blitzed out of the bedroom, and Skye just stood there, her mind blank.
“Oh…” She hurried out of her bedroom and leaned over the staircase railing. “Finn, put some clothes on!”
Moments later, he came jogging back up the steps, wearing his bathrobe and his gym shoes.
“Right,” he muttered in passing, and she held in a laugh.
Right indeed. Less than a minute later, he ran by again in a pair of navy shorts and a neon-pink T-shirt his niece had decorated with cat paw prints for his birthday. He kissed her again in passing, thundering down the stairs, and was out of the door in record time. When she heard the SUV revving to life outside, she shuffled down the stairs, pausing on the last step, Mason a few paces behind her, and planted her hands on her hips.
Mind still blank—but the high-pitched whine was getting worse.
“Okay,” Skye muttered. “One step at a time… Doctor’s appointment. Where the hell’s my phone? Finn? Can you call my…”
Her cheeks warmed when she spotted it sitting next to the TV, where she’d left it, dead but charging. With a shake of her head, Skye grabbed it, hit the power button, and sat beside the power outlet on the floor, waiting.
“Finn,” he heard Cole sigh through the TV, which was currently streaming Skye’s laptop as per Cole’s technological finagling before he left, “I still can’t see you. Sort it out.”
“I’m trying,” he muttered, clacking away at the laptop as Skye sat beside him on the huge L-shaped couch that took up most of the living side of their villa’s open concept first floor. He sounded grumpy, Cole, but then again, it was obscenely early in Hong Kong—though it didn’t surprise Finn one bit to learn that the man hadn’t adapted to an adjusted schedule yet. The tech convention was supposed to last all month. It was a marathon, not a sprint. He and Skye had drilled that into Cole’s thick skull the whole week leading up to his departure, but from the odd hours he’d been getting texts from him, Finn didn’t think the message had stuck.
After resetting her webcam connection, Finn cut the video feed and then tried to call again. Moments later, Cole’s face popped up on the TV screen, the room dark behind him and the bright white glow of the monitor doing his face no favors.
“Good lord.”
“Turn the lights on, you gremlin,” Skye ordered, arms crossed so that Cole wouldn’t see their surprise. She was doing a decent job of hiding her exuberance, but if Cole had been there with them, he’d likely detect the tremor in her hands, the slightly raised octave of her voice. The woman was aglow—for more reasons than one.
Finn bit the insides of his cheeks to hide the enormous grin threatening to escape; many times over the last two years, the conversation of family had come up between him and Cole. No matter where the conversations had started, they would usually end with a very positive discussion about the prospect of starting a family of their own with Skye. Cole had always been so giddy at the thought, his words coming fast and his hands flying all over the place. Although Finn and Skye were overjoyed and struggling to hide it at the moment, he couldn’t wait to see the look on Cole’s face when he heard the news. Pregnant. Confirmed pregnant as of two hours ago.
He and Cole were going to be dads.
Just the thought threatened to shatter his cool, nonplussed demeanor, and Finn pinched his leg to get himself under control.
“You look like shit, man,” Finn insisted, voice steady, then moved the laptop about so it would capture both him and Skye equally. Cole had looked a little tired when they’d video-chatted with him two weeks ago, but this was ridiculous. Those bags under his eyes would very easily pass for bean bag chairs at this point.
“You guys need to host this thing outdoors next year,” Skye added. She was shaking beside him, positively buzzing about the news, and he had to give her credit for sounding calm, cool, and collected, all the while wondering if it was as difficult for her as it was for him. “At least then you’ll get some sun.”
“Right, fuck both of you.” Cole flipped them off as he stood. At the sound of a click, light flooded the screen, showing a meticulously kept bedroom suite behind him—and Cole’s shit appearance. He sat down with a huff, rubbing his face. “There. Better?”
“You’re going to need some serious TLC when you get back,” Skye crooned at him, and that managed to bring a smile to the grumpy so
d’s face. She nuzzled her head onto Finn’s shoulder, eyes fixed to the screen. “We miss you.”
“I miss you guys too,” he said, his voice catching slightly. “Only a week to go. Have you let the house fall to ruin yet?”
“It’s…” Finn pursed his lips, knowing the man would see right through him. “We’ve already arranged for the cleaning service to come through the day before you get back.”
“Good. How’re the boys?” Cole’s eyes, a paler blue than usual thanks to the glow of his computer screen, followed Oz as the cat slunk along the back of the couch and settled down behind Finn’s head. “Where’s Mason?”
The dog responded with a hearty woof, hopping up on the couch beside Skye. Finn had to physically stop him from traipsing over the both of them on his quest to find Cole after hearing him say his name. When he wouldn’t behave, Finn ordered him off the couch entirely, but tilted the laptop so the two could greet each other.
Honestly, you’d never know what a fucking fuss Cole had made when Finn and Skye adopted the dog, given the way the two pined after each other now.
“No, you stay down,” Cole ordered when Mason whined and tried to sneak back onto the couch. “Good boy.”
Skye pushed the laptop back onto Finn’s lap, clearly unable to contain herself a second longer. “Okay, okay, news.”
“Yes, what on Earth could be so important that I need to be up at this hour?”
A giddy twist in Finn’s gut forced him to shift about. The initial pregnancy tests had all been positive, and Finn had been holding that news in for days now, all the while feeling horribly guilty whenever he chatted with Cole via text, a huge secret on the tip of his tongue. But they’d had to sure. This wasn’t something you played around with. As of today, two precious hours ago with news from the doctor, they knew for certain.
