Ties That Bind (The Escort, #3)

by Kristen Strassel

  Shannon might have squealed in the background when I kissed Leah. I tunneled out, nothing else mattered but the way our hips moved together, hungry for something we shouldn’t have. I never wanted that feeling to fade. Leah pushed her leg between mine, and we kept kissing as I swung her around, into the crowd. Our movements slowed in time with the music.

  Leah’s head fell back when we broke the kiss. Her lips were parted, and she looked like she felt the same way I did. Drunk with something that had fallen by the wayside in the last couple weeks—desire. It had been swallowed by the monotony of everyday life. Up until Leah moved in with me, every moment we had together had been ripped away from our regular lives. I loved normal with Leah, but this was the feeling that would fuel us for the rest of time.

  The way her body moved against mine . . . it didn’t matter if we had clothes on or not. She drove me crazy. The roll and sway of her hips, and the look in her eyes when I fell into step with her. I let her lead. She’d told me she’d forgotten about music, and it was a crime. When she let go and let herself get lost in the moment, it was fucking magic.

  “Is there an open stool?” she asked, still swaying against me. It wasn’t with the beat anymore. “Stop me if you’ve heard this before, but I’m exhausted.”

  “We can go.” I’d put on Spanish music and fuck her all night long in our bed.

  She shook her head. “Not until Shannon leaves.”

  I laughed. “What is she? Twenty-four? We’ll see the sun come up.”

  Leah groaned and tugged me toward a seat at the bar. I ordered bottles of water for both of us. This was the first time I’d been in one of these places sober, and it was the best time I’d ever had.

  Shannon was on the other side of the bar, and her date was all over her. She didn’t seem to mind. Leah watched the rest of the crowd, bottle still at her lips. I kept an eye on Shannon. The strap of her tank top was down near her shoulder. I’d gone clubbing with too many guys who had different intentions than the girls they met up with, and I knew exactly what was going on. Maybe Shannon was into it, and that was cool. I wanted to make sure that was the case.

  Her date put his arms around her, spinning her away from the bar. He rocked her back and forth, and dropped what looked like a pill into her glass. He caught my eye before he picked up his beer and nodded at me.

  That motherfucker.

  “Come on.” I nudged Leah harder than I meant to. We didn’t have much time. “Shannon’s date just put something in her drink.”

  “Shit.” Leah hopped up, looking around frantically for Shannon. I didn’t care if my game was smooth or not, I pointed right at them. She had her drink in hand, and I cringed when she took a sip. She’d probably be sick as hell, but at least we could get her out of here before that bastard raped her. He saw us coming, and tried to disappear with Shannon into the crowd, but it wasn’t happening. I pulled Leah behind me, bumping into whomever got in our way. The good thing about being a gym rat for the last ten years was that people thought twice about messing with me. I barely ever threw a punch. I didn’t need to.

  I grabbed the guy by the scruff of the neck when we got close enough. “Let her go or I’ll snap your fucking neck,” I growled in his ear. No need to ask him twice. I thought about doing it on principle. Just because he wouldn’t get away with this shit with Shannon didn’t mean he wouldn’t have someone else in his sights.

  Leah glared at the guy as she embraced a very confused Shannon. We’d have company tonight, and that was fine with me. Family wasn’t always what you were born into—you chose it. I didn’t let a lot of people in, and it wasn’t something I took lightly.

  Chapter Twelve

  Leah

  We got Shannon out of the club just before she passed out. I was so thankful that we were there, and that Jagger saw that dirtbag drug her drink. He had no problem carrying her back to our apartment, where she stayed for the rest of her trip. It was probably good practice for us, always having someone around who actually wanted our attention.

  “I can’t take the storefront.” I frowned as I topped off Shannon’s ginger ale. Neither of us were feeling like much more than that. “It’s too much. I can’t be a full-time interior designer and a full-time mom. A lot’s changed since the last time I did this, and I need a place with flexible hours. With a spot for a playpen.”

  “Can you put an office here?” Shannon asked, and shrugged when I sneered. “Isn’t there another bedroom in the back? There’s a bunch of doors back there.”

  “Leah doesn’t like to mix business with pleasure.” Jagger leaned over and stole popcorn out of my bowl. Shannon might have thought she had seen the real city, full of nightlife and excitement, but this was a little more like everyday life. The air conditioning was always on blast, we had blankets to snuggle under and movies to entertain us.

  “There’s only one more bedroom. And we’re getting a new roommate,” I said. A tiny roommate that had been jonesing for hot buttered popcorn with cinnamon sugar and apple pie spice. I prided myself on the fact that my children shared my good taste from such an early age.

  “What about the gallery?” Jagger slid off the couch and stole my blanket. He draped it over both of us and grabbed another handful of popcorn, waiting for my answer while he munched.

  I wasn’t sure where he was going with that. “It’s . . . your gallery. And it’s kind of mixing business and pleasure.”

  “I’ve got that spot in the corner with the chairs that you could use to chat with clients. You can turn the back room into an office and some storage—“

  “But you work back there.”

  “I do, but maybe if I worked in the front room, it would attract more passersby. We can do what you’d planned for the spot next door. Stage some furniture, make it half art exhibit, half design room.”

  That was a pretty cool idea. “You’d be able to get out more and take pictures.”

  Jagger nodded, his hand back in the bowl. I should’ve made twice as much. He said he’d only have a bite, many bites ago. “I’m thinking of branching out. Away from abandoned stuff.”

  “Really?” I was shocked. “That’s your thing.”

  “Yeah. Not sure what else I want to try, but yesterday felt like I was intruding. Like I really shouldn’t have been there. It hadn’t bothered me in a long time. The danger had always been there, but now I’m more aware of it.”

  A lot had changed in the past few days, and his reasoning made sense. But I didn’t want him to lose his edge, what made him him, the man I fell in love with. I leaned over and kissed him, and he fed me some of his popcorn. “Whatever makes your eyes light up like that, I want you to keep doing,” I said.

  “I plan on it.” He kissed me one more time.

  “You two are so cute.” Shannon smashed through our moment. “It makes me almost want to lift my ban on men. Next guy I go on a date with is getting a shake down and introduced to Jagger. Back to having the design office at the gallery—I think it’s perfect. You want clients who think outside the box. They’ll know you have access to original designs and that you speak art. Did you see the look on Claire’s face when you suggested starting the design at the gallery? She thought you were a flipping genius. Anyone can buy a couch and a table. But it takes an artist to create a design.”

  “I like the way she thinks.” Jagger met Shannon’s invitation for a fist bump then turned back to me. “Think about it. You wanted to work with me once. And this is more true to your original vision for Second Chances than the show ever was.”

  **

  Shannon helped me get the basics of our design business set up before she went back to New York. I missed her already. Somehow she convinced me to put a desk in the living room, insisting it was temporary while Jagger painted the back room. I hated not being able to do more than pick a paint color, but I had to stay away from fumes for the next eight or so months.

  I had a few moments alone before my doctor’s appointment. Jagger would be back at any time to br
ing me there, so I had to work fast.

  There was no need to ask Kari how she knew there was actually an adult movie database. Once I opened the site, I kept looking to the door, expecting Jagger to open it. I was distracted, even though he’d been completely open about the fact he worked on the movies. Trolling this site for information felt nothing short of icky.

  I had no idea where to start. The obvious place was with Jagger. I typed his name in the search bar and held my breath until something came up.

  Jagger Holiday was his stage name, a persona he took on because he didn’t want to be the person he was before that. I didn’t know my future husband’s real name. The realization hit me hard. I never put being in love in the same category as having a broken heart, but the more I got to really know Jagger, the more he chiseled my heart into teeny, tiny pieces. It wasn’t because we were falling out of love, not by a long shot. It was because he still had yet to understand that anyone could love him.

  For every bit of progress I made, I hit another dead end.

  But there was no denying he was the person the search results brought up. He looked like a baby in the headshot. His smile was genuine, and when I enlarged the picture, his eyes were different. He’d had yet to be broken. I scrolled down the page, looking for clues, and wincing at the names of the movies as I scrolled through.

  Frequent costars. Perfect. I clicked on that. There were several women he starred in more than one movie with, and of course, none of them were named Kim. That would’ve been way too easy. I wrote down their names and checked their bios. One of the actresses was about ten years older than him, and I almost ruled her out for that alone. But Jagger was six years younger than me, and he seemed to click with older women.

  I scrambled to X out of everything when the key turned in the lock, and slammed my notebook shut just as Jagger walked in the door. I hoped he couldn’t feel my heart pounding when he leaned in for a kiss. “What are you working on?” he asked.

  “Claire’s design.” I had the program open at the bottom of the screen. “Want to see it?”

  Jagger scrunched his brows. “I thought she was coming into the studio as the kick-off to the project.”

  Shit. “She is, but I can block furniture and pick basics. I know what I want to suggest. Since she loves pastels, I’ve been trying to find color palettes that won’t make her place look like the end of the rainbow.”

  He chuckled. “Isn’t that good luck?”

  “It is, but it’s also tacky design.” I stood up, sliding my body against his, which was still warm from outdoors. It did all kinds of things to me, and made me not want to go anywhere but to bed with him. Or the floor. Didn’t have to be fancy. So far I’d been pretty lucky with morning sickness, and my body was getting used to the extra energy it took to build a baby. The hormones had kicked in, and all I could think about was ripping Jagger’s clothes off. “Want to make this baby thing official?”

  I loved the way his face lit up. “There’s nothing I’d rather do.”

  **

  I’d avoided doctors since my sister Lisa lost her battle with breast cancer. Stupid, I know. The experience had left me with crippling anxiety. Even though I knew I was at elevated risk, ignorance was bliss. Knowledge hadn’t given Lisa the advantages we’d hoped for. Now, with a little person growing inside me, I had to suck it up and face my fears. Motherhood was hands-down the scariest thing I’d ever done, but obviously, the most rewarding. I’d never be in the running for Mother of the Year, but even Raven would agree I did the absolute best I could.

  Having Jagger with me at the doctor’s appointment made it better. Just looking at him made me believe anything was possible. I had the hard work part down, but I needed a little help in the hopes and dreams department. Who didn’t? Claire had been right about Jagger. He was always quick to point out that I loved to take care of people, but the same was true of him. He’d changed since I told him about the baby, and he told me about his son. He’d softened. It was a good thing. In light of that, his declaration that he wanted to change the focus of his photography wasn’t a huge surprise. I wanted him happy, but I didn’t want him to ever walk away from his passion.

  And the way he’d made sure Shannon was safe the other night . . . I didn’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if Jagger didn’t see her date slip something in her drink. This was the man who I wanted to raise my child with.

  They didn’t make us wait long, thankfully, because I was a flight risk. I set my little container of pee down, put on the hospital gown, leaned back on the table, and looked over to Jagger.

  “I’m scared.”

  He shook his head, taking a page out of my book, convinced everything was all right. “You shouldn’t be.”

  The nurse came minutes later, after my vitals had been taken and someone had absconded with my offering. She looked over my file. “You had a positive pregnancy test?”

  “About a week ago.” My mouth was so dry. I almost expected her to say that it was a false positive, nothing to see here, but I knew better.

  “When was your last period?” she asked.

  “It was at the beginning of the month. I had it when I was in Boston.” Too recently, which was why Shannon’s suggestion seemed so preposterous. Time had been moving at such a pace it seemed like I’d been here longer than I really had. “I’m on the pill, or I was, and I obviously forgot a couple days. So I was spotty, but that period was pretty normal.”

  She looked back at the screen. “What made you take the test?”

  “I just moved here from DC. I’d helped my daughter move to college—“ I knew that would get her attention, “—and I was so tired. I couldn’t shake it. I chalked it up to the move and the weather change. My coworker encouraged me to take a test. No one was more shocked than me when I saw the plus.”

  “I’m sure.” The nurse looked to be about my age, maybe a few years older. “I’m going to do an ultrasound, so we can determine how far along you are, and see if there’s been any unusual bleeding.”

  Thankfully they’d already taken my blood pressure, because my heart was pounding. I looked back to Jagger for a little more of that reassurance, but the B word had scared the shit out of him, too. Not baby. Bleeding. His eyes were wide, skin pale.

  While the assistants set up the equipment, I mentally catalogued all the things I’d done wrong before I knew about the baby. I had no idea what the pill would do to a developing fetus, mixed with a nightly cocktail of wine . . . and the sheer rage of having to play nice with Rich while moving Raven into the dorm couldn’t have helped matters.

  The ultrasound felt the same, all these years later. Jagger scooted closer in his chair to see the screen, and reached for my hand. They hadn’t gotten better screens since Raven, either. It looked like nothing but static.

  “Right here.” The nurse put her finger on the screen. “That’s your baby. From the size, I’d say your seven weeks along.”

  Jagger squeezed my hand and stood to get closer to the screen. The nurse moved out of his way, and he put his finger in the same spot that she’d had hers moments before. I’d never seen him smile like that.

  The wand came to a rest as the nurse studied the screen, now minus Jagger’s finger. She nodded. “I figured the bleeding was one of two things,” she said. I’d hoped it was zero things. “Did you have a natural birth with your first child?”

  “Yeah. I did it all natural. I didn’t think I needed the epidural until I needed the epidural and it was too late. I had to get stitches afterward.” I glanced over at Jagger, and his color was gone again.

  “It looks like you have placenta previa. What that means your placenta is lying low in your uterus. In your case, it appears to be completely covering the cervix. This isn’t uncommon, especially for a second birth or a woman over thirty-five. I’ll watch it closely, as it could move. If it doesn’t, you’ll have to have a C-section. In the meantime, you’ll need to take it easy. Strenuous activity could provoke more bleedi
ng. You also need to be on pelvic rest.” She typed something into her chart.

  “Pelvic rest?” I’d never heard the term before. “What does that mean?”

  She looked up from her computer. “No vaginal sex.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Leah

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I couldn’t have possibly heard her right. I’d do anything to protect my baby, but seven and a half months with no sex? That was never going to work. I was so frigging horny that all I had to do was look at Jagger and I was in danger of exploding.

  “No vaginal sex. It could provoke more bleeding. It’s possible that the placenta will move as the pregnancy progresses. You can, however, still orgasm.”

  “What about anal sex?” Jagger asked. I was glad he was here because I would’ve never had the balls to even bring it up.

  The nurse hesitated. “Be careful. No strenuous activity.”

  “What does it mean for the baby?”

  The nurse didn’t look as scared as I felt, which I took as a good sign. “If the condition continues for the entire term of the pregnancy, you could have severe hemorrhaging and bleeding. Or it may necessitate a pre-term C-section. But as I said, it can correct itself. The placenta often moves into a safer area by the time the baby has come to term. I’ll be watching you closely, and we’ll focus on making your pregnancy as healthy as possible for you and the baby.”

  I was in shock over the news. It was too early to tell how things were progressing. I had an appointment to come back in a month, a ton of pamphlets to read over about placenta previa, and a prescription for pelvic rest.

  Jagger bumped my leg when he stopped at a red light. I jumped. I’d been lost in thought, staring out the window at nothing. I’d only given the pamphlets a quick scan, each time landing on the worst case scenario. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said.

  Where should I start? “I’m worried about what this all means for the baby. It could be temporary, but there are some pretty scary scenarios in these booklets. I need to read them when my head stops spinning. I don’t know what this means for my business, since I can’t do anything strenuous. And on top of everything, we just got sentenced to seven months hard time with no sex.”