by Taryn Quinn
“I did. I’d almost forgotten your voice, so it was a welcome surprise.”
“I know. I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch.”
“Your father’s worried. He’s been asking your friends in town about you, though no one admits to seeing you except Brandilyn, and she’s been quiet on the subject. He even asked Sterling to—”
No Sterling talk. Not yet. “Look, Mom, I know Daddy’s concerned, and I promise to explain everything soon. Really soon, in fact. I’d like to come to dinner this weekend.”
“Are you okay?” She lowered her voice. “You can tell me the truth, sweetie. I don’t like keeping secrets from your father, but if you need me to forget I know something for a bit, I will. You’re my little girl.”
Ang gave a watery sniffle. God, she couldn’t wait to be unpregnant so she wasn’t such a weepy mess anymore. “Not as little as I once was,” she whispered, slipping her hand over her belly. Her stomach was changing, becoming more solid, and that warm mass offered her so much comfort. She rubbed in slow circles, hoping her baby took the same comfort from her. “But I promise I’ll catch you both up on everything this weekend.”
“Angelina, you’re scaring me. Tell me you’re okay.”
She cupped her stomach, frowning as it rippled deep inside. Maybe chicken burritos hadn’t been the best choice for lunch. “I’m fine. Better than fine, honestly. It’s been a busy few months.” To say the least.
“You’d tell me if you were in trouble?”
Depends on your definition of in trouble.
“Mom, I swear I’m good. You’ll see that for yourself this weekend.” Along with a bit more she hadn’t intended to see, like her only child’s big belly.
“I’m trusting that you’re telling me the truth, sweetie. Are you dating anyone?”
She bit her lip. “Uh, can we discuss that on Sunday too? It’s all kind of the same thing.”
It wasn’t, but she didn’t want to get into one subject without mentioning the other. She definitely didn’t want to talk about it over the phone. Plus, she’d need to warn the authorities beforehand in case there was any bloodshed.
In time, her father would accept her and Sterling being together. Yes, things would be awkward at first. He’d have to come around eventually. If she and Sterling actually became a couple for real. Everything was so new.
Her stomach rippled again, even more strongly. She shifted from rubbing to patting. Jeez, no more Mexican for her while preggo. Message received.
“All right, honey. I’ll wait until Sunday. How is sch—”
“So how are you and Daddy? Are you still taking that cruise to Cozumel in January?”
“Oh my Lord, there was a problem with booking. Did I tell you about the airplane mix-up?”
Ang smiled, relieved the spotlight had shifted momentarily. “No. What happened?”
By the time they got off the phone twenty minutes later, Ang felt a little more centered about her big reveal and a little less calm about her Mexican-induced gas. Was this a Mylanta situation? Dammit, she really should’ve done all her required reading. Sterling would know what she should take and how much.
She pushed herself to her feet—whoa, that wasn’t as easy as it had been a few weeks ago—and took a determined step toward the front hall. Walking couldn’t hurt. That was a known gas remedy, right?
The next twitch had her sagging right back into her chair. She gripped her belly, her eyes going wide.
No way. Wasn’t it too soon? Damn, she needed to read those books. Stat.
Fumbling for her phone, she fought back her sniffles. There was only one person she wanted to share this moment with. Hopefully he wasn’t too busy at work.
He answered on the second ring. “Hey you.” The warmth in his tone flowed over her, sweet and thick like honey. “I was just thinking about you.”
“You were not. You’re busy working hard.”
“Hard…yeah.” His chuckle made her grin. “How are you, beautiful?”
Before she could answer, a muffled shout from the background cut through the line. “Jesus, dude, get a room. This is a place of business.”
“Like you know anything about business, Dixon. Sorry,” Sterling said. “Chase decided to actually grace us with his presence today, though the extent of his help has consisted of deleting two important files and hanging up on a new client.”
“You don’t like the way I do business, Vance? Don’t let the door hit you where the good Lord split you.”
Ang blinked. “Wow, he’s…friendly.”
“No kidding.” Sterling’s good humor seemed to have vanished as fast as it had come. “Especially since I’ve been in charge of running this operation every time he’s gone off to chase his girlfriend across the States. I suppose I shouldn’t notice that I haven’t been properly recompensed.”
Chase didn’t choose to respond. She wasn’t sure it mattered, since Sterling’s breathing had already sped up to match hers. And he hadn’t even heard her news yet.
“You shouldn’t tolerate that from him or anyone,” she said after a moment.
A door slammed in the background and Sterling sighed. “I know he’ll come around eventually. That doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally lose my cool.”
“Why should you accept his timetable?”
“Because he needs to make the decision himself. I may poke and prod, but he’s a grown man. It’s his company. When he feels the time is right, he’ll extend the offer to make me a partner. If I force the issue beyond a few comments here and there, it’ll just cause problems down the road. Better for him to reach the decision on his own. Then I know the agreement will stick.”
“How can you possibly be so Zen all the time?” Though she had to admit his calm, rational approach helped eased her fears about telling him the truth about GothGeek. Hopefully he’d be levelheaded then too.
“Not Zen. Pragmatic. People have faults, as do I. Accepting them sometimes helps them turn into positives. At any rate, my being angry won’t change the situation. I know what outcome I want. I’m prepared to wait him out to get it.”
She bit her lip and clutched her busy stomach. Her momentary reprieve from the belly rock and roll had ended. “So this is, ah, a bad time.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Yep, he sounded annoyed, and she knew it had nothing to do with her. His pragmatic suit must’ve frayed a little around the edges. “Okay, well, I’m saying it. I wanted to know if you’d had lunch yet.”
“Why?”
Her stomach fluttered and she gasped. “Damn. Okay, that was stronger.”
“What? What’s wrong? Do you need to go to the hospital?” She could already hear him moving around. Possibly even kicking things. “Never mind. Sit tight. I’m on my way, baby.”
“Sterling, wait—”
“I’m on my way,” he repeated. “Don’t move.” He ended the call.
She couldn’t help laughing. A few more tears escaped too, but this time they were from mirth.
Her thumb hovered over the speed dial, but she stopped herself from calling back. He’d be home in no time flat, and though she hated scaring him needlessly for even a second, she wanted him there. So much.
Sniffling, she stroked her stomach. “I’m not really sure how it happened, but I think you got yourself a daddy anyway,” she whispered.
He really was the kindest man. Too kind for her, probably. She’d screw things up between them anytime now. But at that very moment, she was in so deep she didn’t want to see her way clear.
When he burst through the front door, nearly tearing it from the hinges, she lurched out of her chair. “Ang,” he yelled, clearly not seeing her in the living room. He barreled toward the stairs and started up them, his body strung like a wire with tension. “Baby, where are you?”
“I’m here. Right behind you.”
He whirled, taking the steps back down in a hurry. He dropped his briefcase and laptop bag—ouch—and lunged toward her, wrapping his arm a
round her shoulders and guiding her back into the chair before she could so much as squeak. “Tell me your symptoms. I’ll call the doctor. Are you lightheaded? Did you eat? Have you stayed hydrated?”
She shouldn’t laugh, but she did. Tears came too, tracking down her cheeks silently while he knelt between her legs and covered her hands on her belly with his own. Such big, capable hands. The kind that would never, ever let anything bad happen to her or her child. She’d never realized she craved that sort of unwavering protection, but the feeling of safety, of being utterly cherished, when he was near turned her on more than any kinky sex position or wild toy.
“I think…I think the baby kicked. Or rolled over or something.” She swallowed hard and flexed her fingers under his. “I’m sorry, I should’ve made it clear on the phone. I didn’t mean to scare you. Everything’s fine. I know you were working—”
“For the first time?”
“Yes.”
He moved his hands, caressing her stomach. “Where?”
“Right here.” She held his hand near her left side. “I was rubbing my belly and there was this ripple. At first I thought it was gas.” She hiccupped out a laugh. “It didn’t stop though. Then there was a strong flutter and I finally figured out she must be moving. It’s so early.”
“Not that early. Mothers can feel the first flutters as early as sixteen weeks, and you’re a couple of weeks beyond that. Some even feel it earlier than sixteen.”
“See, I knew you’d know.”
Lifting his eyes to hers, he said nothing, just continued to stroke. His face was so close to hers, and the sensation of his fingers drawing careful patterns on her flesh through her thin shirt was not causing her to have thoughts about babies. More like baby making.
She cleared her throat and adjusted his hand to the side. “Try there. That’s where I started rubbing—”
The ripple took her by surprise, because it was on the opposite side. “Did you feel that?”
“Holy shit.” His eyes widened and he moved his hands, stretching them to cover her midsection. Hedging his bets, probably. “I wasn’t in the right spot, but yes. She’s spirited.”
“Can’t wait to see what she’s like in a few months.”
He grinned. “She’s a spitfire like her mother.”
“Spitfire, huh?” She shared the grin, tipping her head closer to his.
Only to leap back when the baby kicked again, this time exactly under Sterling’s right hand. He started to speak, then he gave up and shook his head, so obviously awed that her eyes filled again.
“Pretty amazing, right?” she whispered, easing closer to him on her chair. She wrapped her arm around his neck and pressed her cheek to his. “I wanted you here. Needed you.” She fought to steady her voice, then gave it up as a lost cause. “It scares me how much I need you.”
The hand he kept on her stomach continued to rub tenderly, but he slid the other into her hair to direct her mouth to his. But he didn’t kiss her, just stared into her eyes and moved her lips with his own. “I’ve never wanted anything more than you and this child.” His voice was every bit as husky as hers had been. “Do you understand?”
Shakily, she nodded. If the lump in her throat grew any more, she wouldn’t be able to swallow. “Don’t let me fuck this up. Please.”
He glanced down between them, though all was quiet on the belly front. “She can hear you, you know.” Then he bent and pressed his lips to her bump. “I love you.”
She didn’t know if he meant the baby or her or both of them. And she didn’t care. Because no other moment had ever been more perfect.
“Why are we going to this thing again today? Can’t we stay home?”
Sterling smiled at Ang’s probably involuntary usage of the word home and continued knotting his tie. “It’s a celebration lunch. Summer’s going on her first national tour.”
She snuggled against his back and reached around to adjust his tie in the mirror. “You used to get this right every time and now you never seem to. What’s up, dude?”
“You’re on to me.” He turned and caught her elbows, lifting her up on her toes for a kiss. “I like the way you do it better.”
“Oh, I’ve heard that line from you before.” Laughing, she spun away and returned to the bedroom, trailing her oversize, pale-pink bath towel in her wake. “We already have to be social tonight. Do we really have to do it twice in one day?”
Tonight. Yes. He took a breath and followed, determined not to think of her parents’ reaction to their relationship. If Marcus hadn’t been his friend for so many years, he would’ve said damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead. As it was, he kept replaying the conversation he would have with his old buddy without ever coming up with a suitable speech. Except one.
I love your daughter and I want to marry her.
The only problem with that scenario was that technically, they’d only been dating for a limited time. She’d been staying in his house for longer than that, but that definitely didn’t constitute a normal dating sequence. His knowing her since she’d been in pigtails and riding her ten-speed also didn’t weigh in his favor, especially when phrased in that manner. Age-wise they weren’t all that far apart in the scheme of things, but whether Marcus would agree was another matter.
That still hadn’t stopped him from buying the item that sat in the top drawer of his dresser. Waiting, much like he was. When he’d seen the square-cut yellow diamond, he would’ve mortgaged his house to buy it for her. She epitomized the sunshine in that ring. She’d shone light in all the dark, lonely places in his life, and he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his days with her and their children, making them happy.
And he had no clue if it was ever going to happen.
Blowing out a breath, Sterling joined her in the master bedroom. “We shouldn’t have kept the truth from them so long.”
“We’ve only been slamming the sausage in the bun for a short while.” She looked up from the bed, still holding her nail polish brush over her partially painted pink toes. The towel covered just her shoulders—as if he didn’t know why—leaving her completely nude, completely pregnant and completely hot.
How was he supposed to hold rational conversations with her when she was naked?
He turned away to dig through the top drawer of his dresser for his cuff links. “Please try to refrain from using such descriptive terms tonight.”
“How about piggling my wiggly? Is that off-limits too?”
“Yes. As is forking your pork.”
She giggled. “Why, Sterling Vance, you sly dog you.”
Having found his cuff links, he put them on and pivoted to face her, sucking in a breath at the vision that awaited him. She’d propped one foot on her opposite knee, offering him a glimpse of all that flushed, wet flesh between her thighs. Better still, it was flushed from him. They’d had sex twice last night, and he’d gone down on her for so long this morning that she’d finally begged him to stop. Yet there he was, staring at her voluptuous curves, riveted by that slit of pink and those ruby-red nipples that seemed to bead every time he looked her way.
He looked a lot.
“Uh-uh. Get your mind out of the gutter, mister. This funhouse ride has been used and abused enough for one morning.” But there was no mistaking the heat in her eyes.
“Maybe so, but it’s almost afternoon. And you’re the one sitting there all naked and luscious.”
“Luscious, hmm?” She set aside her nail polish and blew on her toenails, sending him a glance of pure sex. “I read that orgasms make the baby’s heart speed up. If you give me any more, my poor kid may have a cardiac event before she’s even born.”
He’d already taken a step forward, but he stopped and stared. “You’ve been reading up on your pregnancy?”
Finally, he wanted to add. He’d tried so hard not to push, though frankly her disinterest in learning more about her body’s changes or in shopping for the baby worried him. He suspected she was still heavily in deni
al about her condition, despite all the progress she’d made.
That was fine at three months. Now that she was in month five, she probably shouldn’t be putting her head in the sand. She faced a lot of changes ahead. He would help her with everything, of course, assuming she allowed him to. She hadn’t said anything that indicated her interest in their relationship becoming a permanent one and definitely hadn’t voiced three little words. She also hadn’t responded to his suggestion about turning one of the empty guest bedrooms into a nursery.
So he hadn’t pushed. They communicated extraordinarily well in all ways except when it came to emotions or what would happen after the baby was born. In time, perhaps they’d be able to cross those bridges too, along with that pesky lie about her online persona. He’d mostly gotten past it, minus her refusal to let him near her bare back. She’d been getting more casual about her nudity—as evidenced by the way she was currently sitting on the bed—and he was half tempted to just tell her he knew she was GothGeek.
But half tempted still hadn’t gotten him to actually say the words.
She blew on the toes on her other foot. “Yeah. Some. I still don’t have a spreadsheet.”
“I can share mine with you on Google Drive—” He stopped when she started to grin and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Okay, so you don’t want my spreadsheet.”
“That is about the only thing of yours I don’t want.”
“Mmm-hmm. Don’t try to soothe my battered ego now.” He sat on the edge of the bed and slipped on his shoes.
Apparently giving up on her toes, she crawled up behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I love how you take care of me.” She kissed the side of his head. “In all possible ways.”
His heart sped up. It wasn’t quite the love he was hoping for, but he’d take it for now. “You’re not too bad at some of those ways yourself.”
“Yeah, but you’re caring for two of us. I appreciate it so much. You’re the only reason I remember to take my bodybuilding vitamins.”
He couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah, I screwed up buying those. But I have to say, your body’s built pretty damn fine already.”
