A. Zavarelli - Stutter (Bleeding Hearts Book 2)

by Unknown

  “Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll keep looking. Ted will take you home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Brighton

  Ryland and I sat in uncomfortable silence in the doctor’s waiting room. The place looked expensive, and I had no doubt he’d probably paid a fortune for me to come here. The other mothers-to-be were dressed in designer clothes and heels and were no doubt highly prominent figures of society.

  On the drive over, Ryland informed me that Dr. Maria was the best of the best. Reportedly, an OB/GYN to the stars-and now, little old me too.

  He’d really been going out of his way to help me in whatever way he could, and I did appreciate that, regardless of how strained things were between us. He’d been reading a lot, and over the last week he’d started to send me text messages of little things that surprised him or freaked him out. Like little facts he’d picked up in the books or information on food cravings. It was kind of adorable that he was so interested, and it was a bittersweet feeling for me. He was going to make a great father.

  “Brighton Valentine?” the nurse popped her head through the door.

  “That’s me.” I stood up and Ryland followed me down the hall.

  She paused to weigh me, and my face flamed in embarrassment as Ryland stood there expectantly.

  “Turn around,” I ordered.

  “Why?” he frowned. “I need to know these things.”

  “No you don’t,” I snapped. “This isn’t your concern.”

  “I want to make sure you’re eating enough, Brighton.”

  The nurse gave us an amused grin as she pushed the scales back and forth. “I’ll write it down and let you two decide while you wait.”

  She ushered us into an empty room and asked the usual questions. When I told her I was still having occasional bouts of morning sickness, Ryland looked worried. I could already see him making a mental note to google it later, and I hoped the nurse would put him at ease.

  “While that isn’t great news, that does sometimes happen,” she assured me. “But let us know if it gets any worse, or to the point that it feels unbearable. Have you been under a lot of stress lately?”

  I shifted in my chair, and I could practically feel the tension rolling off of Ryland. “Not really,” I lied.

  “That can sometimes cause it too,” she said. “You may be a little more sensitive when pregnant, so stress can induce it.”

  “Okay.” I nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Alright, Brighton.” She smiled as she stood. “I’m going to have you hop up on the table and lift your shirt up.”

  I climbed up on the table, feeling Ryland’s eyes on me as I tugged my shirt up just beneath my breasts. This was the first time he’d seen me like this, and I was a little nervous. I glanced over to find him staring at my belly, and I wanted so badly to know what he was thinking.

  “I’m just going to get the technician,” the nurse said. “She’ll be right in.”

  “Thank you.”

  She left, and Ryland and I looked at each other. He gave me a smile that I was sure he meant to be reassuring, but I could tell he was nervous too.

  “We might find out the sex today,” I volunteered.

  This earned me a real smile from him. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  The door opened, and the technician stepped inside. “Hello, Brighton. How are we doing today?”

  “Good,” I answered.

  She sat down on her chair and started messing with the equipment while Ryland watched eagerly. I wanted to ask him if he had a preference over boy or girl, but that seemed silly. I’d be happy with either.

  “This is going to be a little cold.” She squeezed the gel onto my tummy and started to move the wand.

  The room was quiet for a few moments while she checked some things on the screen, clicking away while she worked. I wasn’t scared, but I could tell Ryland was getting anxious by the way he leaned forward. He was waiting to hear the heartbeat, and it took a while to get to that part from what I understood.

  Before I could stop myself, I reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. His eyes found mine, and he seemed to relax a little as he threaded his fingers through mine. It was such a small, simple gesture, but it meant the world to me.

  “Baby’s growing very nicely,” the technician said. She fiddled with some more knobs and buttons, and then the sound came through the speakers.

  I looked at Ryland through bleary eyes as I heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time. He kept running his free hand through his hair, messing it up while he stared at the screen with a dazed expression on his face. It was a mixture of terror and awe, and I doubted he even realized how tight he was gripping my hand.

  “Sounds nice and healthy too,” the technician remarked. “Are we wanting to know the sex today?”

  I looked at Ryland and he nodded. “Yes, please.”

  His voice was hoarse, which surprised me.

  “Everything looks great.” The technician finished up and wiped the gel from my tummy. “So I’ll show these to Dr. Maria and she’ll be in soon to let you know. Just lay back and relax, in case she needs to do an exam.”

  I smiled and nodded, and she walked from the room. I didn’t even get a chance to talk it over with Ryland before the doctor came in. They were fast and efficient here. I guess that’s what money bought you.

  She went over my chart again and told me everything was progressing normally, which relaxed Ryland a little further. Then we got to the good stuff.

  “Okay, so I see a note here that you’d like to know the sex?”

  “Yes,” I answered nervously.

  Dr. Maria looked up at both of us with a large smile as she pointed at the picture.

  “Congratulations mom and dad, it looks like you’re having a little boy.”

  “A boy?” I squeaked.

  The tears were leaking out of my eyes now, but they were completely happy ones this time. Ryland looked a little pale, but flashed me a boyish grin as he processed the news.

  Dr. Maria wrapped everything up and said she expected to see me back in a month and to call her should I need anything. Ryland and I both thanked her before she left, finally giving us a minute to digest everything that had just happened.

  He stood up and locked the door behind her while I sat up to right my clothing. But before I could, he was back in front of me.

  “Wait,” he pleaded.

  I paused, leaving my shirt rolled up. He sank to his knees before me and lifted his trembling hands towards my belly, hesitating for the slightest of moments. He expected me to tell him no, but I didn’t. He splayed his hands across my belly and gave it a gentle kiss. It was undoubtedly the sweetest thing he’d ever done.

  He pressed his cheek against me and just sat there for a moment, his eyes closed and his face relaxed. His warmth melted into me and brought on a sharp pang of longing. I missed these intimate moments between us so much. I wanted to reach down and thread my fingers through his dark hair. I wanted things to be good between us again. Without all the bullshit. Was that even possible?

  “It’s killing me,” he rasped, nestling his face against my tummy. “It’s killing me that I can’t protect you, Brighton. That I almost destroyed the only good thing I had left in my life.”

  I remained as still as a statue, but the tears were flowing down my cheeks. I didn’t know what to say. What to do. I didn’t feel strong anymore. I felt like I couldn’t go on without him. He loved me fiercely. Obsessively. Rivalled only by the intensity which I felt for him. So why couldn’t we be together?

  “I can’t believe we made this,” he continued. “And that I almost took it away with my stupidity. I understand why you hate me, Brighton. I do. But, I don’t want things to be this way.”

  “I don’t hate you, Ryland,” I murmured. “I could never hate you. Even when I really wanted to.”

  He blinked up at me and shook his head. “I thought I could make it up to you. I thought we could g

et past it. But when I found out you hid this from me, I realized you really did hate me. There was no getting past it.”

  I didn’t get angry at his words because I understood what he was trying to say in his roundabout way. This was Ryland telling me he was sorry. And that I’d hurt him. He’d never admit it aloud, but it was there in his eyes. Over the last two months, I’d watched the blueness of those eyes evaporate to gray. I’d watched him punish himself with whiskey and anger. He was falling apart, and I hated seeing him like this. My normally faultless, beautiful Ryland looked so broken and lost. So fragile and disordered. Neither one of us could continue to go on this way. We had to figure this out, for all of our sakes.

  “I hid it because I didn’t trust you,” I said in a gentle tone. “I didn’t believe that you were done with Brayden. And I didn’t want our baby in the middle of that.”

  “It’s over,” he said resolutely, clutching his hands around my waist. “I’m done with it. I swear to you, Brighton.”

  “I believe you.” I trembled. And I did. Seeing his face now brought me clarity. He would do anything to protect us. Even if that meant giving up his revenge.

  His hands smoothed up my back and then down over my ass, squeezing me as he tugged me towards the edge of the table. There was still a hint of unease in his eyes, like he thought I might say no, and if I did, it would break him.

  I reached down and slid my fingers through his hair, smoothing it back into place. That was all it took to bring back the familiar hunger in his eyes. He stood and positioned himself between my thighs, gripping my face in his hands. “I miss you.”

  I made a noise in my throat, and he swallowed it up with a brutal kiss. I clutched at his shirt and pulled him closer, desperately seeking out his warmth. I didn’t even care that we were at the doctor’s office. It didn’t matter where we were, I needed him.

  “Ryland,” I moaned.

  “I know,” he whispered. “I have to be inside of you. It can’t wait.”

  My lips found his throat as he unzipped his pants enough to free his erection and tugged my panties to the side. His hands felt like brands on my body they were so hot, and we were both being clumsy with our movements. His name kept spilling from my mouth in a desperate plea. I just didn’t want him to stop. I didn’t want to spend another day without him. Without this crazy love that existed between us.

  Despite the roughness of his palms, he eased inside of me with gentle control. We both groaned, and then he paused.

  “Is that okay?”

  “God, yes,” I whined. “More please.”

  He rooted himself all the way in, and then paused to stare at the place where we were connected like he almost couldn’t believe it was real. I pulled him closer and guided his lips to my neck.

  “It’s real,” I promised. “It’s real…”

  “Never again,” he swore.

  My head shook frantically as I agreed with him. “No, never again.” We would never be apart again.

  He feathered kisses along my skin as he started to move. It was a combination of slow and hard, like he wasn’t sure how much I could take. Either way, he’d only been inside of me for two minutes, and we were both on the verge of exploding already. His hands pushed my shirt up over my breasts, groping them with his palms. And then pulled back to gape at them.

  “Holy fuck. They’re huge, baby girl.”

  I laughed. They weren’t that huge, but they definitely felt like it. They’d grown a lot already.

  He flicked his thumbs over my nipples and I whimpered. I was still super sensitive, and if he kept doing that I wouldn’t even last another minute. Sure enough, the moment his lips latched onto the lace covered flesh, I started to spasm around him.

  I had to clap a hand over my mouth to keep quiet, and Ryland spluttered in surprise.

  “That was fast.”

  “I needed this.” I pulled his mouth back to mine. “I needed you.”

  My words set him off too, and he twitched and jerked inside of me while he devoured me with his lips.

  “Christ, baby girl. I needed that too. So much.”

  He didn’t move from inside of me, and I was glad. His hands continued to explore my body, his eyes following their movements.

  “You’ve never looked as beautiful as you do carrying my baby,” he said. “There aren’t even words, Brighton.”

  He didn’t have to tell me because I could feel him swelling inside of me again. I didn’t want this to end, but I knew someone would be knocking on the door any minute now. Ryland must have read my thoughts, because a moment later, he pulled out.

  “Let’s go home, baby.”

  ***

  Ryland held my hand as we stepped into the elevator. I squeezed back a little tighter than necessary as I waited to see what button he’d push. When he hit the button for his floor, I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

  He didn’t say a word as he led me into his apartment, but the moment we were inside, he pulled me into his arms. Soft fingers brushed my cheek while he searched my eyes.

  “I need to know this is what you want,” he said. “Because I’m all in now, Brighton. No more games. If you commit to this, it’s for good.”

  “I’m committed,” I told him without hesitation. “This is what I want, Ryland. You, me, and our baby. That’s what matters.”

  He crushed me against his chest and kissed my temple. “It’s all that fucking matters,” he agreed. “And nothing else is going to change that.”

  I reached for his hand and started walking backwards, leading him to the bedroom. He smirked.

  “I have a lot to atone for, don’t I?”

  “You have no idea,” I said. “My hormones are crazy right now. It’s very possible I might never let you leave this apartment again.”

  Clear blue eyes settled on me with a hint of amusement. “I couldn’t think of anything better.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ryland

  The weekend passed in a cloud-like dream as I nestled my favorite appendage inside of Brighton again and again.

  See, I could be romantic?

  Under a self-imposed lockdown, we didn’t leave the apartment once. Phones turned off, business neglected, calls unanswered. Nothing else existed. She was back in my arms. In my bed. Back to letting me have my way with her. It was all going swimmingly.

  We hungered for each other. Maddeningly. Obsessively so. But wasn’t that the whole point? Weren’t we all just looking for someone we could fuck until the end of time and chase those euphoric rainbows with?

  For me, I had no further to look than the woman cocooned between my legs at present. Her cheek utilized my chest as a pillow without any protest from me. Strawberry gold spilled down her back in tangled curls that my fingers stroked lazily. The lids of her normally waifish eyes were heavy and drowsy under the weight of contentment. The steady thrum of my heartbeat pulsed beneath her, drugging her with its melodic rhythm.

  I quietly speculated how long it’d be before she was asleep again. I wouldn’t move. I enjoyed this far too much. Even with a dead arm and a pressing need for sustenance. Now that all was right in my world again, hunger had returned with a ravenous vengeance.

  It was a toss-up whether food should be first on the agenda, or another round of marathon fucking. I thought I’d purged it all from my system only twenty minutes ago, but already my cock was stirring again. Briefly, I toyed with the idea of licking rum raisin ice cream off of Brighton’s every curve and valley. Two birds, one stone.

  The dilemma was effectively quashed when her fingers traced over the scars on my chest, her brow furrowed. That look meant she was deep in thought, which didn’t bode well for me or my needy cock.

  My palms held her against me in a bruising grip, just on the off chance she was rethinking this.

  “We need to talk, Ryland.”

  I kissed the top of her forehead and smothered my face in her hair. “No we don’t.”

  My lips made a mad dash for her neck, but she stopped me cold.

  “I’m serious,” she protested. “You aren’t going to distract me with sex.”

  Grabbing her hand, I pressed it against the bulge in my briefs and gave her a boyish grin. “C’mon, let’s get frisky, baby.”

  Nothing good could come of talking. I knew this, and yet, she pursed her lips. She usually liked it when I was being smart. Not this time, apparently. Christ, she really wanted to talk.

  “What’s the matter?” I sounded more reluctant than a sixty-year-old nun, even to my own ears.

  Brighton gave me that look in response. The one that told me to quit feeling sorry for myself and suck it up. So I stroked her back in encouragement even though I only wanted to fuck these thoughts right out of her system, whatever they may be.

  “A lot,” she answered. “We have a lot to talk about. But first I want to start with the car crash.”

  My spine compressed and the aggravation in my tone wasn’t well disguised. “No, Brighton.”

  “There are things I need to know,” she insisted. “I can’t move forward until I do.”

  The tension in my jaw burned all the way down my throat. Six months ago, I’d have told her it was non-negotiable. But as I’d promised you-and her-I was trying to bend. Being master of your own universe isn’t an easy habit to break. But as I sought refuge in the depths of her hazel eyes, I recognized the significance of her need for this.

  I rubbed the back of my neck. No doubt this was going to hurt like hell. I wished I had some whiskey. What’s more, some rum raisin ice cream. My first plan sounded infinitely better than what she had in mind.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me what happened that night,” she said. “How you set it up. How it was supposed to go.”

  The rational part of me understood why she was asking, but even now, I pictured her face that night. The blood and the fear. Everything inside of me clammed up, and I felt like a junkie who’d missed his last ten fixes.

  “I know it’s hard for you, Ryland.” She cradled my face in her palms. “But I just need to know.”

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