by Ella Brooke
“Is something wrong?”
“Not wrong. I just want to get a more precise date of conception. We’ll go from there.” Dr. Ellis paused. “Your uterus is higher than I thought it would be at that point. You might be further along than you thought.”
“That’s not really possible. I hadn’t been with anyone for a few months when Grant and I got together.”
Dr. Ellis hadn’t looked convinced, which was annoying, but Kit was grateful to have the early appointment regardless. She knew her mother had had some problems with miscarriages before Kit was born, and it would be good to get things checked out as soon as possible. Whatever she decided to do with this baby, she wanted to be able to make that decision on her own.
***
The night before the sonogram, Kit had stayed over at Grant’s again for the first time since their trip to Japan. She’d been afraid he would take one look at her and realize what was happening, but as usual, he seemed too hypnotized by her breasts to think much beyond them.
It wasn’t usual for them, but they didn’t have sex for once. Grant could tell she wasn’t in the mood, although she’d offered.
“You’re normally so enthusiastic.” Grant settled for gently running his fingers through her hair. “I can wait until you’re in the mood.”
That might be a while, considering how she was feeling, but she’d gratefully accepted the reprieve, and also unusual for her, had fallen dead asleep in his bed before she could retire to her own room. She’d woken the following morning with three realizations:
Grant had gotten up before her. She could smell an amazing breakfast cooking. And she was absolutely starving.
Kit padded out to the kitchen wearing only a slinky cami that she’d worn to bed and her ever tightening panties. Grant let out an appreciative growl when he saw her, and turned from the stove to give her a long, hungry kiss.
“How do you look so gorgeous in the morning?” His hand drifted down to her backside and stayed there as she pressed herself into his side.
“I’ve never seen you cook before,” Kit said, sidestepping the question. She didn’t feel beautiful. She felt bloated. She could only imagine how she was going to feel in the upcoming months. It was like all of her high school insecurities had come back to haunt her.
She really needed to talk to Grant about this… She just needed her own confirmation first, and a few days to think about what she wanted. She’d always been the steady one in the relationship, with a clear view of what she wanted out of it. The sudden presence of their potential child threw quite the wrench into her plans.
“We haven’t been able to spend as much time together since the trip, and we had such a good time just being near each other,” Grant explained. He moved back slightly so that he could return to flipping French toast and minding the scrambled eggs. “Not that I haven’t loved everything, but I thought we could take more time to really get to know one another. I didn’t even know you liked horror movies.”
“Some of them, I do.” Kit reached over to take a piece of bacon from the plate on the counter.
“I want to know those things.” Grant slid the French toast onto plates and arranged the eggs around the side. “So do you prefer powdered sugar or syrup?”
“Is that one of the things you want to know?” Kit teased.
“I, for example,” Grant said as he put the plates on the table in the breakfast nook, “prefer powdered sugar because I don’t like syrup touching everything but my carbs.”
Kit raised her brows and leaned back on the counter. “I don’t have a preference. I like sugar, and I like carbs. I’ve been told by exes and my mother that I’m going to balloon up like Violet Beauregard once I hit my forties.”
“More to love.” Grant laughed and kissed her temple.
“You lie.” Kit shook her head and followed him to the table. “If I’m being honest, I like pancakes better than French toast. I’ll have to take you to the diner near my apartment sometime. They make amazing pancakes, and they serve breakfast all day.”
“Oh, now the truth comes out!” He sat across from her and grinned.
Kit sniffed the warm syrup that he’d set out and poured it over her French toast. After cutting it up, she took an experimental bite.
“Though apparently you’ve been holding out on me when it comes to cooking. This is pretty amazing.”
Grant shook a strainer of powdered sugar over his French toast. “Between our college days and actually founding the app, I went to a culinary school for a short time. I was floundering, definitely, but I did enjoy cooking. If the app hadn’t taken off, I might have opened a bakery.”
Kit stopped, mid-chew, and stared at him. “Are you serious?”
“You and I could well have run into each other while you were buying a donut rather than at a fancy fundraiser.”
“I’m sure that would’ve definitely made me irresistible, wouldn’t it?”
“It would be a mutual attraction.” Grant pointed his fork at her. “Imagine all the poor cakes sacrificed to our pudgy passion when I grabbed your truck butt and dragged you into the cooler for some sweet, sweet love.”
Kit covered her mouth and laughed so hard she almost couldn’t breathe. Grant grinned smugly, so pleased with himself for having made her laugh.
“I cannot imagine how your mother felt about that,” she managed after catching her breath.
“Oddly, I think she was a little less heinous about the potential baker career. Partially because I think she really can’t understand what it is I do.”
“It’s impossible to talk to your parents sometimes.”
“My parents in particular. Though I have to say, for a cardiologist, my dad really loved my pastries.”
Kit smiled. Grant didn’t talk about his father much. She knew that he’d been closer with his father than his mother.
“I’m sure he was proud of you for trying to do something different,” she said.
“Ohhh, no. Not at all.” He shook his head about five times in succession. “He wanted me to be a surgeon. He wanted me in plastics. Said I had elegant hands that would be wasted on anything other than the most delicate of work.”
He held his hands up to examine them.
“You are exceptionally good with your hands. I have to agree with that much, at least.”
Grant waggled his brows. “I said as much.”
He sighed, suddenly serious. “I wish he’d lived to see what we’ve done with SideHustle.”
Kit reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I know how doctors are, especially surgeons. But my mom always said that he talked about you like he thought you were the second coming. He thought the world of your potential, Grant.”
“Yes. And it would’ve been nice if he could ever see me live up to it.” Grant shrugged his head to the side. “I don’t know that he would see what I’ve accomplished as doing that, though.”
Kit stroked his hand. “Maybe he wouldn’t. I do, though. I remember what you were like. How unfocused you were. It took a lot to get where you are now. It took a good idea and a whole lot of hard work.”
Grant nodded solemnly.
Kit wished she could turn back time for him and make it possible that his father could see and know what his son had done. How he’d changed the way people hired temporary employees, and how he was setting the standard in employer/contractor relations.
She couldn’t do that, though. All she could do right now was love him as much as she physically and mentally could.
Chapter Eleven
Grant
There was a room away from the main action of the fourth floor where Grant liked to hold meetings with new investors. He also often brought up the leads for training when they came for new updates. There was a floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the main campus of the building, a large and sprawling lawn. There were many opportunities for natural light in the building, but this room in particular was open and inviting.
There were several ro
unded sofas of purple and blue, everything in cool colors. Grant had already taken a seat in front of a conference table shaped something like an electrocuted amoeba and had several files spread out in front of him. They were going to distribute the surveys this week and hopefully get some data by the end of the week. They should be able to announce some changes by early in the next quarter.
New offices in Japan. New contractor benefits in the US. There was a lot going on out there right now. Not to mention that Grant had gotten Tyrese’s approval to officially hire Kit. If she was interested. Kit’s increasing annoyance with problems at her office suggested she might be, but he didn’t want to push her.
He was so absorbed with what they needed to cover with the training leads that he didn’t notice the tell-tale click of kitten heels against wooden floors until his mother was right on top of him.
“Grant!”
He jumped a mile and looked at her incredulously. She’d never visited him here at his office. Not once.
“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call?” he asked.
“Grant, I cannot believe how irresponsible you’ve been. It truly defies belief,” Adele snapped, shaking her head. “What were you thinking? If you were thinking at all.”
Grant fixed a hot glare on her and cast a glance through the semi-opaque walls for employees. A few had stopped to stare, but they quickly moved on.
“There are a lot of things on my plate right now, Mother, but none of which would warrant such ugly, ridiculous behavior!” he snapped, rising from his seat. He stood over her, anger warming him to the point he could hardly stand still.
“Getting a girl pregnant? Catherine Hardwick’s daughter?” Adele hissed. “Are you even ready to be a father? Or are you going to get rid of them like the child you are?”
Grant felt his feet and hands go numb. “What? She— What?”
“You knocked up some random girl! Have you even thought about what her life will be like with that many children?” Adele stomped her foot. “Grant, I have stood by while you embarrassed this family with your flings, and your silly business ideas, and everything else, but I will not stand by while you ruin a girl’s life and the lives of your children! You have to be responsible!”
She paused to catch her breath and crossed her arms. “Your father would be so incredibly ashamed.”
“Kit isn’t— How did you find out?”
“Hospital gossip, of course. The tech who did her sonogram was talking with Catherine, and some intern overheard that her daughter was pregnant with triplets of all things. Can you even imagine? With the money you have now, you’d think you could manage to spring for a condom!” Adele shook her head at him. “She’s got you for life now. Oddly, it might’ve been the only way to really trap you into a wedding.”
Grant’s head was swimming. Kit. Pregnant. With triplets? How in the world could it be possible?
“She uses birth control,” he protested weakly.
“She says she does,” Adele spat. “But clearly she doesn’t.”
They had used condoms most of the time after their first, but Grant had to be honest. That had mostly been to assure her that he wasn’t going to give her any kind of STD. As time had passed, they’d gotten sloppy again.
“I don’t believe you,” Grant objected. “That’s sensitive medical information. They shouldn’t be talking about it in the hospital.”
Adele took a step back and let her hands drop. “You didn’t know? Well, of course not. She’ll let herself go far enough that you’ll have to keep the little bastards.”
“Enough!” Grant shouted.
Tyrese, who had just been walking towards the conference room, jumped. He began to retreat with the training leads he’d been bringing to the conference room.
Thank goodness they were in house employees and not a reporter or investor.
“Word gets around, Grant. The nurses, the interns, the doctors, even the gas man—” A word Adele had always used to imply her condescension to anesthesiologists. “—Word gets around. They don’t say names, obviously, and they don’t try to tell you who is doing what, or whom, but I know who Catherine’s daughter happens to be lying with. It isn’t hard to put two and two together there. And in this case, two and two equal three babies very clearly on a sonogram.”
Adele looked smug. “I knew you couldn’t manage a relationship like this. I knew something was going to go awry. Now my first grandkids…” She sighed heavily. “Ask the girl yourself. Or take a good look at that belly of hers. I’m sure she’s going to start looking very pregnant very soon.”
Before Grant could find a way to mount a defense, his mother was storming out of the room. He didn’t know what to say or do. It was impossible that Kit had lied to him. She had never been the kind to be even slightly less than honest, even if she was upset or hiding something.
She’d be much more likely to just not say anything. But that didn’t answer how it had happened.
Was it possible that she’d flubbed the birth control without telling him? Had she wanted a commitment, some kind of certainty with him so badly that she’d…what? Get pregnant on purpose? Surely if that were so, she had miscalculated her fertility.
Grant turned around and kicked the conference table clean over.
He was furious about the situation. He was more furious that his mother had gotten him doubting Kit.
***
Grant had pregamed a bit before dinner. He had set up a rooftop date for the two of them at a fine restaurant looking out over the bay and sent a dress in Kit’s size to her office. They were going to talk.
And he would remain calm. What his mother said couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t.
But moments before she arrived at the restaurant, another possibility occurred to him. A traitor of a thought, but one probably more likely than any of the other scenarios.
He just needed to talk to Kit. As soon as possible.
Grant knocked back a whiskey while waiting. It was taking her longer than he’d anticipated to get to dinner, and when she arrived, he could see why. She hadn’t worn the dress that he’d sent to her. It had been a burgundy number with lace that should have fit her like a glove. Instead, she wore a dark blue, empire-waisted cocktail dress with cut out shoulders and some light beading.
Grant pinched his lips together tightly. Kit never wore empire-waist dresses. They didn’t flatter her curves at all and just made her look bigger. Tonight she had apparently changed her mind…or she had needed the extra room in the front.
“You look lovely,” he managed as she approached. He stood and held her chair out for her.
“Thank you.”
“Didn’t you like the dress I sent?”
Kit raised her eyebrows. “It’s a fine dress. It was just…almost see-through. We can try to sometime when I’m wearing Spanx underneath or something.”
Grant could feel the muscle in his jaw tightening. He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over her, hunting for clues. And they were everywhere. The swollen breasts, the rosy sheen over her cheeks, the way she set aside the glass of wine and drank her water eagerly. How she reached for the bread and butter almost immediately, too hungry to wait for their server to come for their order.
“When were you going to tell me?” he demanded without thinking. He’d been planning to bring up the question after asking her more general questions about what she wanted from their relationship, and if she wanted children at all. Apparently his mouth was going to do the thinking for him tonight, however.
Kit set her bread down, took another long drink of water, and swallowed. “Tell you what?”
“Please! Kit, I don’t want to play games. I know that you’re pregnant. I know that you’re having triplets—“
“Triplets?” she squeaked.
“What I don’t know is this: Are they even mine? Did you sabotage your birth control on purpose? And were you planning on telling me before you’d made any permanent decisions?” Grant threw his napkin on
the table. “What a fool I am, blissfully walking around like all we need in the world is to communicate and our relationship will glide along smoothly as an oiled train track. And here you are lying right to my face!”
Kit’s face had crumbled as he’d gone on his tirade. He’d tried to stop himself, but it had been impossible. Grant couldn’t stop until he ran out of words and was panting and still very angry. Now fat tears spilled down her cheeks, and her hands shook.
She stood abruptly, managing only, “Fuck you, Grant,” before bolting for the door.
He stood to try to stop her, but she pushed him off, making an ugly, pained noise and backing away from him like he was her attacker instead of her boyfriend.
Later, after she’d escaped his anger, Grant felt like she was completely right to do it. He paid the bill, had his driver take him to a liquor store, and started calling old numbers in his phone. Many of these had been disconnected, or they were simply screening him. After several tries, a soft, feminine voice answered:
“Um, hello?”
***
Grant woke in his bed, mostly still dressed from the evening. His shoes were somewhere else, and his shirt halfway unbuttoned. He looked down at his rumpled self and realized he couldn’t remember how he’d ended up in his bed or what had happened after he’d started trying to call someone.
No, not just someone. Women.
Grant sat up abruptly, then bowed over with his head in his hands. His pounding head and rolling stomach made him wonder if this was what Kit was feeling right now. He hoped not, but at best, this was what he deserved.
Letting his mother get in his head like that. Snapping at his pregnant girlfriend before she had a chance to explain.
After he managed to get to his feet, Grant shuffled to Kit’s room and leaned in the doorframe. His brow furrowed as he noticed items out of place, the duvet crooked and rumpled. Had Kit been here last night? Or…
His ears burned as he contemplated what he might’ve done last night. What else could he have fucked up?
A noise out in the penthouse caused Grant to hurry away from the room. He investigated a few rooms along the way, but as he moved down the hallway, it became obvious that the noise was coming from the kitchen. When he arrived, he stood there, rumpled shirt and tousled hair, and stared at the short-haired, broad-shouldered woman trying to figure out how to work his coffeemaker.
