Love Undiscovered

by Denise Wells

  “Ohmigod, I’m so excited!” Lexie squeals. “I can’t wait to hear what we are having!”

  “It’s going to be girls,” Kat says. “It has to be. Boys would be a nightmare. Can you imagine two little Bauers running around? Shoot me now.”

  I laugh at them. So grateful for their support.

  Chance pulls his chair closer, resting his forearms on the edge of the exam table. His eyes already shining before she even pulls up the image. If he were remotely vapid or idiotic, he would be the male version of those women in the waiting room.

  She squirts the lubrication on my stomach then moves the wand around. We hear the heartbeats, sounding like a herd of thundering hooves, racing to see whose will be heard first.

  “Oh, look at that,” the tech says pointing out something that looks just like every other piece of baby blob on the screen.

  “What?” Chance asks.

  “Congratulations, Chance, Remi, Kat, Lexie. The Bauer babies are boys. Twin boys,” the tech says.

  “Oh God, not boys!” Kat says.

  “I think boys will be fun,” Lexie counters.

  “Oh wait…” the tech pauses.

  Chance and I both lean toward her, waiting.

  “What?” Lexie asks.

  “Did I miss something?” Kat asks.

  “Is everything okay?” Chance asks.

  “I think,” the tech says. “Yep… there’s another little guy in there. You’ve got yourselves a set of triplets!”

  The world starts to spin around me. I feel faint.

  “Woohoo, one for each of us!” Lexie cries, at the same time Kat says, “Oh, shit, you’re gonna be outnumbered.”

  Chance fist pumps the air and says, “Yes! I’m the man!” As he starts dancing to his own tune in his head.

  My husband preening around the room is the last thing I see before I faint.

  *

  Chance – Two Months Later

  The babies came early, which the doctor warned us might happen. Remi handled their birth like a fucking champ. Eleven hours of hard labor before they brought her in for a C-section. And if that wasn’t the most horrifying and beautiful thing all at once…

  Seeing your wife on the operating table being cut open. Some guy pushing his hands inside her. And then, just like that, there’s a baby. Or, in our case three babies. Kat, Lexie, and I have spent the last few hours in the NICU, taking turns cooing at each of them.

  Brian. Braden. Brianna.

  Yep, number three is a girl. I’m scared to death about that. But it made Remi happy, she said it evened the score and she wouldn’t feel so outnumbered. I didn’t have the heart to remind her that the kids outnumber us anyway.

  We should get to take them home in a couple of days. I’m excited and nervous. I feel like Remi and I barely have a handle on being with one another and now three more people will be with us. Which reminds me I want to check on her.

  I leave Kat and Lexie with the babies and head back to Remi’s room to check on her. My mom is still sitting in the chair next to her bed, knitting booties and stocking caps, like when I left her hours ago.

  “Ma, go home, we’re fine,” I whisper.

  “I know you are, Chancey. She was in some pain and I just wanted to make sure she got something for it and got to sleep,” she whispers back.

  “Thank you,” I say softly. “Now go, you’ve got some packing to do.”

  My parents leave for the big trip in less than a week. Ma was frantic when she realized the timing might coincide with the babies’ birth. She was the only one who was excited when they came early. Well, she and Lexie.

  I get her out the door and then pull a chair up next to Remi’s bed and watch her. She’s sound asleep, which is good considering she’d gotten almost no sleep in the weeks leading up to the birth.

  My beautiful angel who blew back into my life after ten years and rocked my world all over again. It’s crazy to think it’s been barely over a year. Now I can’t imagine my life without her.

  The door opens softly, and Kat peeks her head in.

  “They kicked us out so we’re going to take off. She doing okay?”

  “Yeah,” I say, walking to the door. “She’s sleeping.”

  I give both Lexie and Kat a hug and kiss on the cheek. These women who have become as important to me as they are to Remi. This extended family that brings so much joy to our lives and who are going to love my kids like their own.

  I watch them walk down the hall a bit before turning back to my wife.

  My wife.

  I still can’t get over that she picked me.

  Then married me.

  And had my babies.

  I sit back down in the chair and pick up her hand to kiss it.

  “I’m so lucky to have you,” I whisper. “I love you so much. Thank you for being in my life. For being my wife.”

  “Hey,” she mumbles, opening her eyes slightly.

  “Hey, beautiful. Everything is okay, go back to sleep.”

  “Babies okay?”

  “The babies are perfect.”

  “Lay with me?”

  I slip onto the bed behind her, careful not to jostle her or the IV coming out of her.

  She takes my hand and tucks it under her cheek with her own.

  “Love you,” she says, sleepily.

  “I love you more,” I say.

  “Thank you,” she sighs.

  “For?”

  “Giving me the life I never knew I wanted,” she says.

  “I’ll give you anything in the world, beautiful.”

  “Mmmm,” she replies.

  Her breathing slows, and I close my eyes and try to sleep. I’m too keyed up by everything that has happened today.

  “Chance,” she says a few minutes later.

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “You’re humming that fucking song again.”

  “I can’t help it, beautiful. It’s my jam. And it’s never fit more than today.”

  “Mmmhmm,” she says.

  “Remi?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you do it? Just once? Please.”

  She sighs.

  “Who’s the man?” she asks.

  Fuck yes. I am SO the man.

  Bauer’s Bad Ass Jams

  “Stranglehold” by Ted Nugent

  “Burnin’ For You” by Blue Oyster Cult

  “Sunshine Of Your Love” by Eric Clapton

  “You’ll Accomp’ny Me” by Bob Seger

  “Cinnamon Girl” by Neil Young and Crazy Horse

  “Fortunate Son” by Credence Clearwater Revival

  “Can’t You See” by The Marshall Tucker Band

  “Sweet Home Alabama” by Lynyrd Skynyrd

  “Blinded By The Light” by Manfred Mann’s Earth Band

  “La Grange” by ZZ Top

  “Feels Like The First Time” by Foreigner

  “Roadhouse Blues” by The Doors

  “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” by The Rolling Stones

  “Live And Let Die” by Paul McCartney and The Wings

  “Feel Like Makin’ Love” by Bad Company

  “Simple Man” by Lynyrd Skynyrd

  “Philadelphia Freedom” by Elton John

  “Reelin’ In The Years” by Steely Dan

  “Stone In Love” by Journey

  “Free Ride” by The Edgar Winter Group

  “Jet” by Paul McCartney and The Wings

  “Band On The Run” by Paul McCartney and The Wings

  “Emotional Rescue” by The Rolling Stones

  “Baby I Love Your Way” by Peter Frampton

  “Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love” by Van Halen

  “Thunderstruck” by AC /DC

  “Lick It Up” by Kiss

  “Ready For Love” by Bad Company

  And, of course,

  “The Man” by The Killers

  Acknowledgments

  I really love Remi and her story, I hope you do too. I miss her now t
hat she’s finished. Maybe she needs a follow-up novella…

  She never would have happened without the assistance and support from a whole freakin’ team of people.

  My amazingly talented critique partners:

  -Rachel Radner – Seriously, girl. Thank you seems so inadequate for the impact that you have on my stories and my writing. You always understand where I want to go, and then you get me there. You’re a strength to my weaknesses and a light to my darkness. And at the risk of sounding even more emo, I don’t know what I’d do without you. For real.

  -Lauren Campbell – I know we are still in our honeymoon phase, but I’m going to say thank you nonetheless for giving it to me straight, right out the gate.

  -Victoria Bright – Okay, so we never trade shit anymore. But you are still a PM away whenever I need you. For that, I am grateful.

  Ellie McLove, Gray Ink – I know I’m an asshole. Thank you for sticking with me. I do so very much adore and need you. Please don’t leave me. I really mean it this time. (insert annoying heart emoji here)

  Linda Russell, Foreword PR – I can’t believe it’s already our second book together. No matter what my question or concern is, you answer it/handle it/fix it/make it better, and all the while with smileys and hearts and a positive attitude. Even when I do stupid stuff right before release. You are a gem among gems. And your heart emojis are never annoying.

  Shari Ryan, Madhat Books – You are one talented woman. Like, crazy good talent. Thank you for sharing that talent with me.

  My Beta Girls – Sue Henn, Jamie Gray, and Lora Hasse – I gave you each an insanely long list of requirements and you delivered. I appreciate you. Thank you.

  To my ARC Readers – I’m sorry you had to slog through a messy draft. Thank you for seeing the story through my mistakes.

  Gabriela Scavella-Bell – It’s only recently that I realized how fun your entire name is to say. Now I can’t refer to you in my head, or otherwise, without saying the whole thing. I’m fortunate we’ve reconnected; your support and critiques are invaluable.

  Scott Hoxie - your insight on rugby players and all their dirty deeds was not only helpful, but fascinating. Your time is very much appreciated. Any mistakes are mine and not his.

  Stephie Walls – You just kick ass, bestie! I will never stop singing your praises forevermore. Thank you for imparting your wisdom and so freely sharing your time.

  To Carter and Taylor – You’re so awesome that I had to name characters after you.

  My Remi IRL – If you weren’t you, I wouldn’t have Remi. Or you. I love you.

  NOTE: Every male MC I write is comprised of various aspects of BW. Whether they be physical traits, personality quirks, or verbiage used. One thing stays true amongst them all, and that is they know how to treat a woman right. How to help her feel unique, loved, and supported; all the while keeping life light and fun. So…

  BW – Thank you, babe, not only for the inspiration, but for this insanely incredible life of ours. I love you.

  PS - I kid you not, our wedding song just came on in the playlist I’m listening to while writing BW’s portion of my acknowledgements today. (Someone Like You by Van Morrison.) That is some crazy fucking kismet right there.

  About the Author

  I can’t live without nail polish, the darker the better.

  I drink a glass of wine every day, but if I could get away with it, I’d drink a bottle. My favorite things to eat are chips with salsa. But red vines with popcorn are a close runner-up.

  I currently reside with four dogs, two cats, and one husband. Three of my dogs are Siberian Huskies, so my clothes always have fur on them. Always.

  Given the opportunity, I would read books all day long. So far my record for a single day is five full-length books.

  Hoodies are my favorite item of clothing, bras are my least. Hats are my second favorite. They look good on my head. I’m lucky that way.

  When I’m writing well, I’m barely reading. And vice-versa.

  I’m a terrible dancer and have no rhythm. Like zero. Just ask my husband.

  I started an underground literary magazine in college, which I credit for really launching my narcissistic tendencies via writing.

  If I couldn’t be a writer, I would be a rockstar. Someone from Journey, preferably the Steve Perry years.

  Also by Denise Wells

  Love Undecided - (Book 1, Love in San Soloman)

  As far as Kat’s concerned, if you have too much goodness in your life it will always turn bad. Except for Brad. Because nothing bad ever happened to Brad until Kat. She’s Brad’s bad.

  For Brad, life with Kat is hi-definition Technicolor on a crazy beautiful display. Everything else before and after her is just grayscale. Which is why he’s going after her and letting nothing get in his way.

  Love Unforgettable - coming Fall, 2018 (Book 3, Love in San Soloman)

  Who does Lexie choose? The one who was the highlight of her past or the one who promises to brighten her future?

  Breaking Dylan (Standalone, YA/Coming of Age)

  Let’s face it, no one wants to hear about my jacked-up life. The court-appointed therapist says I need to find my purpose. What does that even mean? I thought 16 was supposed to be sweet. I’ve gone from losing my virginity to losing myself. Supposedly, there’s nowhere left to go but up.