Young Revelations (Young Series)

by Kimble, W. R.

  I want to ask what his dad had done to end up on his shit list, but decide we’ve discussed this enough for one day. Instead we sit silently in our individual thoughts and once I think we’re calm enough again, I speak. “So Bonnie asked me something very interesting today.”

  “Oh?” he asks, his tone light again.

  I nod against his chest. “Apparently she’s going to be cutting back her hours at the store due to medical issues and she asked if I’d be interested in taking over temporarily.”

  “Medical issues?” he asks concernedly. “What’s wrong with her?”

  Shrugging, I look up at him. “I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “She says it’s nothing, but she could make stage-four cancer seem like the common cold, so…”

  He chuckles softly. “True…” He drops a kiss on top of my head. “And what did you say?”

  “That I’d talk to you about it,” I say, looking up at him. He takes the opportunity to kiss me. “What do you think?”

  “I think you should do whatever makes you happy,” he says quietly, tucking some of my hair behind my ear. “I also think you’d be incredible at running a bookstore, however temporary it might be. Furthermore, I think Bonnie found the perfect candidate for such a position.”

  My lips twitch. “Anything else?”

  Pretending to think for a few moments, he eventually nods and before I know what’s happening, I’m straddling his lap. “Yes,” he says, pulling my face closer to his. “I think it’s been far too long since I’ve been inside you and I need to rectify that oversight immediately…”

  Surprisingly, I agree wholeheartedly.

  5

  The last few weeks have passed relatively uneventful. Matthew and I have quickly settled into a routine revolving around our jobs and our son, and I don’t think I could be happier than I am right now. Not that that’s stopped Matthew from trying every chance he gets. If he’s going to be late home from work, he sends a bouquet of flowers as an apology. If I’m too tired to make dinner or do any cleaning, he does it for me and so far hasn’t burned down the house. And on the mornings my morning sickness made it difficult to do anything, he would call out of work and take care of me until I felt better. I truly couldn’t have found a man more amazing than he, and I find myself falling more and more in love with him every day.

  Aside from the obvious, we’ve kept very busy. To my surprise, running Bonnie’s shop has been much easier than I thought it would be and I love every second of it. During the downtime, I’ve been making arrangements for the wedding. Matthew and I discussed it a bit more and decided to risk the Upstate New York winters and have our wedding out near the lake behind the house. The guest list is short compared to our first wedding—then we invited every single person we had ever met to help us celebrate; now it’s a select group, some of which we’re obligated to invite. Like Matthew’s father. And his older sisters. We’ve also invited my brother and sister, though I’m not expecting my brother to attend, considering the last time I saw him, while I was recovering in the hospital, he nearly punched Matthew. I can only imagine what would happen if Jimmy had alcohol in his system at our reception; somehow the thought of spending my wedding night watching a fight between my husband and brother isn’t exactly appealing…

  Today is our next appointment to check on the health of our baby and we’re really hoping we might find out whether it’s a boy or girl. We’ve gone back and forth for weeks about whether we wanted to know, and we’re still not completely sure, but last night over dinner Tyler asked whether he was going to have a little brother or sister. We told him we didn’t know yet and the look of disappointment on his face nearly broke Matthew, who seems to be putting five years worth of spoiling his son into a matter of months. So we came to the decision in bed last night that we would come home with an answer for our son. I tried explaining we shouldn’t make big decisions based on the opinion of a six-year-old, but Matthew was adamant. Personally, I think he wanted to know anyway and just took Tyler’s reaction as the perfect way to convince me.

  Currently, I’m pulling into a spot in the Young Industries underground garage, fully aware that this is the first time I’ve been here in over five years. In fact, the last time I was here was before the bombing. After that, I refused to set foot in the place, even when the renovations were completed three months after the incident and Matthew tried to coax me into visiting him for lunch. Just the thought of visiting the place where my husband so nearly lost his life was beyond horrifying and I hated watching him leave for work every morning to return here.

  I take a deep breath and exit the car, heading towards the elevator. I’m a little early for the appointment, but I thought we might be able to grab some lunch first. Making my way into the building, I go through the first of several security checks and get a few curious glances when I say who I am and who I’ve come to see. There’d been a time everyone who worked in this building knew exactly who I was and I couldn’t walk down the halls without being greeted as the boss’s wife. Now there are only a few familiar faces and none of them seem very welcoming. I ignore it as I follow the path to Matthew’s office, suddenly missing the life of anonymity I lived for the last five years. In that time, it didn’t matter where I was: nobody looked twice at me. And I liked that. A lot. I’m going to have to get used to drawing eyes again; with Matthew, it’s impossible not to attract attention and there is no such thing as “anonymous” in his life.

  The sigh of relief I let out as I reach the waiting area in front of Matthew’s office is almost embarrassing, but I find a smile when I notice Sandra is still Matthew’s secretary. While most women would be nervous about their husbands working so closely with someone so beautiful, I never had that insecurity. Perfect body. Long, shiny black hair. Legs that go on for miles. And not the least bit interested in men. Matthew had always joked about Sandra being the first secretary in history to steal her boss’s wife.

  “And here I thought he was full of shit,” Sandra says, beaming as I enter the waiting room. She stands and doesn’t hesitate to walk around the desk to hug me. I chuckle and return the hug. “I can’t tell you how good a mood he’s been in since he’s been back and despite all his talk about you being home again, we were all starting to think he was hitting the bottle a little too much.”

  I laugh. “Might be the case,” I retort. “But I’m home as well.” I nod at the closed door of Matthew’s office. “Is he busy? I know I’m a bit early, but I thought we might grab some lunch.”

  Wondering if I’m imagining it, an expression of nerves seems to cross Sandra’s face very briefly. “He’s just finishing up a meeting,” she tells me. “I can let him know you’re here, if you want.”

  “No, I can wait,” I assure her. “Don’t interrupt his meeting.”

  Hesitance and slight concern flashes in her eyes, but she nods, offering me some water as I move to sit down in one of the chairs. While I wait, I check my phone for emails and find one for Claire practically demanding we throw a dual engagement party/baby shower. Personally I’d be perfectly content not to have either and just celebrate with a couple people. With Claire in charge, the guest list will be more than a hundred people, most of whom I’ve never heard of, let alone met. But I don’t think I want to be the one to tell Claire no; maybe Matthew can figure out a way without getting himself killed.

  It’s nearly fifteen minutes before I hear voices approach the office door and I look up eagerly in anticipation of Matthew’s appearance. The door opens and I’m momentarily thrown at the sight I see. A woman is exiting the office with what I can only describe to be a satisfactory smile. She’s about my height with long brown hair that falls freely around her shoulders and greenish-gray eyes. I feel like I should know her from somewhere, but my mind is busy thinking how beautiful she is and how she’s been locked in a room with my fiancé for who knows how long. I mentally shake myself out of such ridiculous thoughts and climb to my feet, anticipating Matthew’s arrival in the doorframe very
shortly. The woman’s eyes dart to me and I swear she smirks, as she looks me up and down. I want to ask her what her problem is, but I don’t bother as I watch her board the elevator. Still, I watch her as the doors close and she seems to wink at me.

  I don’t have much time to dwell on that before a pair of arms slip around my waist and I feel lips against my ear. “Well, isn’t this a very pleasant surprise?” Matthew murmurs huskily. “I thought it’d be hours before I got to see you again.”

  Forgetting about the woman who left his office for the next several moments, I melt back into his embrace. “Bonnie came in a little early and I thought we could get a bite to eat before the appointment,” I explain as he releases me just enough to lead me into his office. “But if you’re busy…”

  “I am never too busy for you.” He turns me around to face him, placing his hands on my cheeks and leaning in to kiss me deeply. “And that was my last meeting for the day,” he jerks his head at the closed door, “so, I’ve got nothing but time.” To prove his point, he backs across his office, pulling me along with him as he continues our kiss, then sinks down onto the couch against the wall, pulling me down until I’m straddling his lap. His fingers slide into my hair, holding me in place as I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing down into his hips. I grin inwardly at the hiss he emits at the contact and it only seems to encourage his behavior further. Lips leaving my mouth, he traces the path of my jawline down to my neck and it’s my turn to have irregular breathing.

  We continue in this vein for several minutes before he finally pulls away, much to my annoyance. I open my eyes to find a blurry outline of Matthew grinning at me. “Tease,” I murmur, kissing him once more before taking his hint and sliding off his lap, though I immediately curl into his chest.

  He chuckles. “As much as I would love to continue this, I believe you said you were hungry. If we leave now, we’ll have just enough time to eat before the appointment.”

  Annoyed as I am at his talent of getting me worked up just to end things, I can’t fault the man for his logic. That is the reason I’m here, after all. But still, we could have kept going and settled for running through a drive-thru on the way to the doctor’s office. Scowling at his proud smirk, I wait for him to pack his briefcase and shut down his office for the day before leading me out. I glance around for Sandra, but don’t see her.

  “Didn’t see much point in making her work when I’m not here anyway,” Matt tells me at my questioning glance. “Gave her the afternoon off.”

  “Well, aren’t you a nice boss?” I mutter on our way to the elevator. As we enter, I catch a glimpse at his thoughtful expression as he watches me. “What?”

  “I was just thinking how I could show you how nice a boss I am,” he says suggestively. It takes me a moment to figure out his meaning, but once I do I know I’m blushing brightly. He laughs at my reaction. “I mean it’s not like I have a secretary who would be interested in being seduced by me. Perhaps you could fill the spot?”

  I don’t even dignify his suggestion with a response, mostly because the idea is incredibly appealing and I fear anything I say will either be a high-pitched, highly embarrassing giggle or a suggestion to act out this idea of his. Clearly he’s aware of my dilemma and allows me to use the elevator ride to recover myself. That doesn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around my middle, his hands linking just over my barely visible baby bump protectively. The couple of times the elevator stops on different floors to pick up other passengers, Matthew is quick to gently guide me away from them as though he’s afraid they’ll rush right into me. It’s actually very sweet.

  Out in the garage, to my surprise, we head towards my car rather than his. “Leo’s going to drive it home,” Matthew explains as he helps me into the car. “I thought I’d come home with you after the appointment, unless you have objections.”

  Raising my eyebrow in response, he chuckles, kisses me briefly, closes the door, and walks back around to the driver’s seat. After a few minutes deliberation, we decide on a little restaurant we used to frequent that has the best cheeseburgers I’ve ever tasted. Having grown up in the beef capital of the world, that’s saying something. Matthew leads us to what had once been our usual table and I can’t help but wonder how often he came here without me over the last five years, and whether he came here alone.

  Rolling my eyes, I push that thought out of my head, uncertain why my thoughts are taking this sort of turn. As we place our orders, the reason hits me—the woman walking out of Matthew’s office when I arrived. I can’t get the feeling that I know her from somewhere out of my head.

  “What are you thinking so hard about?” Matthew asks, reaching across the table for my hand and successfully snapping me out of my thoughts.

  I consider lying to hide my insecurities, but I also know he’ll have no trouble figuring out I’m lying. I sigh heavily, not believing I’m about to have this conversation with him considering what we’re doing after lunch. “I was just wondering,” I begin slowly, “who the woman you were meeting with was.”

  His eyebrows shoot up and his lips twitch. The bastard is laughing at me. “Nobody,” he answers. “A business associate.”

  “Oh,” I reply. “She just looked familiar.”

  For the very briefest seconds, I think slight panic crosses his face. “Really?” he murmurs, taking a sip from his glass of soda. “I can’t imagine why that would be.”

  Just as easily as he can detect a lie from me, I can detect one from him. I’m suspicious, but unwilling to ruin our afternoon by pushing him into the truth. It’s not worth it. I change the subject to Claire’s demand for an engagement party and I pretend not to notice his shoulders drop with what I think might be relief.

  “It could be fun,” he tells me brightly when he agrees to the suggestion of a party. “And we can have final say on the guest list. You know Claire; any excuse for a party.”

  I roll my eyes. “Doesn’t she have a family to take care of?”

  Matthew snorts a laugh. “You’d think so,” he says wryly. “I think she prefers keeping us on track to actually being at home.”

  “And why does she think we need to be kept on track?” I ask primly, even though I know she’s determined to make sure now we’re back together, Matthew and I don’t backtrack again.

  “No idea,” Matthew says, lifting my fingers to his lips to kiss them. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re perfectly on track with no intention of drifting away from that.”

  I raise an eyebrow, biting back my smile. “Damn right,” I mutter as our waitress returns with our lunch.

  While we eat, we discuss mundane things, though I don’t miss Matthew’s shiftiness when I ask him how work is going. In all honesty, I probably don’t want to know. He asks me about the latest shipment at Bonnie’s bookstore and offers to come in after work tomorrow to help me put it away. We discuss taking Tyler to an amusement park before the weather turns nasty for the winter. Before I know it, we’re pulling into a parking spot outside the doctor’s office and I’m being led by the hand inside where Matthew directs me to a chair while he checks us in and joins me.

  Neither of us speaks while we wait and judging by the furrowed brow on his face, Matthew has something on his mind. It could be anything from work to the baby and I find myself unable to find out which. My name is called about ten minutes after our arrival. Matthew stands, giving me a tight smile as he guides me to the nurse waiting at the open door.

  “What are you thinking about?” I ask quietly once I’ve changed into a hospital gown and hopped up on the examination table.

  He seems startled at the question and I can see the internal war he’s waging behind his eyes about whether he wants to bring his concerns to the surface. “Nothing surprising,” he says, sitting in the wooden chair beside my table and taking my hand. “I just want to know the baby is okay.”

  I smile in what I hope is a reassuring way as I run my thumb over his knuckles, but don’t reply. During my pregnancy with Tyle
r, there had been absolutely no indication that anything might go wrong, or at least nothing that triggered the doctor’s concern. Yet our son was born nearly three months early and spent the first couple months of his life in an incubator at the hospital, and we never knew on any given day whether we’d ever get to take him home. Aside from his small stature, he’s perfectly healthy and unless you were aware of it, you’d never know he was born so prematurely. Of course I share Matthew’s concerns. Those first couple months with Tyler were absolute hell; I couldn’t even hold him for weeks.

  There’s a brisk knock on the door before it opens, revealing our OB/GYN, the same one who delivered Tyler. Dr. Miller is in her mid-forties with shoulder-length blonde hair, green eyes, and an expression that suggests a person would have to be a mental patient to cross her. She always speaks plainly to us rather than sugarcoating everything like a lot of doctors tend to do. Even Matthew, who despises all doctors and hospitals on the general principle that he spent so long recovering from the bombing, took an immediate liking to her.

  “And how are we today?” Dr. Miller says, shooting us a brief smile as she looks over my chart.

  We go through the normal routine of taking my blood pressure, listening to my heartbeat, and running through a list of questions about how I’m feeling. She doesn’t seem concerned over the sporadic morning sickness I’ve had. With Tyler, I spent the first two months of my pregnancy huddled over the toilet whereas this time it comes and goes with no rhyme or reason to it. There is a brief discussion about my slightly higher than normal blood pressure, though Dr. Miller quickly puts our concerns to rest by telling us it’s an absolutely normal condition and prescribes something to keep it in check.

  Now we’re getting to the really interesting part of the visit. I lie back on the table and raise the hospital gown I changed into to just below my breasts while Dr. Miller turns on the ultrasound machine and coats my belly with an almost ice cold jelly, chuckling at my reaction to it. Next she warms up the wand and sits beside me on a stool, placing the business end on my belly. Automatically, my eyes snap up to the computer monitor and I know without having to look that Matthew is just as riveted. I’m pretty sure we both stop breathing as Dr. Miller locates our baby. My eyes water at the sight, seeing the little fingers and toes and nose.