by Kendall Ryan
“Thank you for that,” he said.
“You’re welcome.” I was just glad it went so well.
“I’m sorry my baggage got in the way of us. I feel like an ass.”
“Guys are asses sometimes. You were young.”
Those pretty baby blues of his latched on to mine. “It’s no excuse.”
I nodded. It was refreshing to hear him take responsibility for his actions. And actually I agreed. He should have had that conversation with her a long time ago. That restraining order may have never been needed. Katrina could have moved on with her life much sooner, and Braydon would never have instituted his rules for relationship-free arrangements. And I might have had an actual shot at dating the one guy I’d fallen for. It all just felt pointless. Then again, maybe the Katrina of two years ago wouldn’t have listened and would have fought hard to win him back no matter what he’d said.
I sensed that the three of us would all be moving on bettered from our conversation today—only I didn’t know which direction Braydon and I would be going.
“You want to go home, and order in?” he asked as we stood facing each other on the sidewalk.
“No thanks. I’m tired and a bubble bath sounds nice.” I just needed some alone time to sort through my feelings, and I thought it might do Braydon some good to do the same. Today had been a lot to take in.
He nodded in understanding. Truthfully, the heaviness of the past hour had affected us both. I could tell he wouldn’t mind being alone with his thoughts for the night.
“I’ll see ya.” I gave him one last hug and left.
I made it only a few steps, though, before the coffee was coming back up into a nearby trash can. Lovely. After I’d gotten sick, I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and ventured a glance over my shoulder. Braydon had seen the entire thing. Shit.
He was at my side, supporting me with an arm around my waist in a matter of seconds. “What’s wrong? Are you still sick?”
I let out a groan and closed my eyes. “I’m sorry. I think it was the coffee. It was too much for my stomach.”
“Don’t be sorry, I’m just worried about you.”
I leaned into his side, thankful for the support. I just wanted to lie down in my bed, safe and warm.
“How long have you been sick? Be honest with me.”
“A month,” I croaked.
“Fuck, sweetheart. I’m taking you to the doctor. No arguments. Come on.”
Taking my hand firmly, he pulled me to his side and led me into a nearby cab. I leaned on him for support, much too weak to argue, and Braydon silently held me as the cab sped away for the hospital.
20
After a battery of questions and tests from the doctor and nurses, Braydon and I waited in the cold, sterile hospital room still no closer to an answer. They wheeled a machine into the space and dimmed the lights to perform an internal ultrasound to see what was going on inside my stomach. The technician probed me with a little wand and stared intently at the image on the screen.
Our relationship changed in an instant with three little words.
“Congratulations. You’re pregnant.”
The floor of my stomach dropped away. I wanted to pull the bitchy ultrasound tech by her ponytail and demand someone else repeat the scan. Someone who could make sense of this alternate universe I must have entered. Braydon wasn’t even my boyfriend. He’d never be okay with a baby. Then why was he looking at the screen like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen?
“Can you do that again? That heartbeat thingy?” he asked. He laced his fingers between mine and squeezed.
The ultrasound tech used the uncomfortable wand once again. The little black-and-white blob on the screen danced.
“We made that, kitten. You and me,” he whispered, his voice full of awe.
She adjusted a knob on the machine and the thumpity-thump sound kicked up again, insistent and sure. There was no doubting there was a baby in there. Either that or a horse was galloping in the next room. “Based on your last menstrual cycle and the measurements I’ve taken, you’re seven weeks and four days along. Congratulations again.” She removed the wand and handed me a box of tissues. “Go ahead and get cleaned up, and I’ll print some of the pictures for you to take home.”
Once she left the room, my head fell back to the table; I closed my eyes and tried to focus on what I knew I needed to do. I took a deep breath and began. “Braydon, I know you’re probably scared—I am too. But it’ll be okay. I don’t expect anything from you. I have a good job, health insurance, I can support us.” Me and my baby. How I could feel protective over something I’d known about for three minutes, I had no idea. “And there’s day care, and my mom lives nearby in New Jersey. I’ll make it work.” I had to.
His silence dragged on and I finally forced my eyes open and looked at him.
His brows drew together. “No.”
No? I was not giving up my baby no matter what he said. That was out of the question. I’d do fine raising my baby alone, thank you very much. I could already see us—I’d be the cool mom in Central Park with skinny jeans and a chic diaper bag and the world’s most adorable baby on my hip. My mood lifted at the thought.
“This is my baby—our baby—and I will take care of all three of us. I’m not going anywhere. No fucking way.” He pressed a hand over my stomach as if to shield the baby from his curse. “Earmuffs, buddy.” With his hand still resting over my belly, he continued, “My sperm is fucking amazing.” His proud smile confused me. He was happy about this pregnancy?
Braydon helped me off the table and I redressed, then we sat in the chairs and waited for the doctor to return with the photos. I was still too much in shock to do anything more than sit there quietly. But Braydon couldn’t seem to stop touching me, lightly rubbing my knee, holding my hand, or touching my belly. My mind flashed to our unexpected romp in Los Angeles. We’d been too caught up in the moment to use a condom.
“Move in with me,” he said suddenly.
Wow. I laughed.
“What’s funny?”
“I’ve only been to your apartment once—and now I’m being invited to move in?”
“Yes.” He turned to fully face me, gazing deeply into my eyes. “I was too cautious, scared to jump in with you like I really wanted. I could tell you weren’t the type I could have a casual fling with and not fall for. That fucked up all my plans.” He covered my belly with his hands once again, cringing at his curse word. “But I was being a coward. Love is messy, it’s scary and overwhelming at times, but it’s everything. What my parents had, I know my dad wouldn’t have traded for the world, despite how it all ended. And I’m sick of denying how I feel about you.”
After a soft knock, the door opened and the doctor entered. I was thankful I didn’t have to respond to Bray just yet. I had no clue what to say. He was being totally irrational. The doctor sat across from us and handed me the printed black-and-white photos of my little kidney bean, and then began to cover all the prenatal dos and don’ts and what to expect during the next eight months. Basically all of life’s pleasures were being stripped away from me—coffee, alcohol, soft cheeses—but exercise was still encouraged. Ugh. God was definitely a man.
Braydon hung on the doctor’s every word and occasionally interjected with questions of his own. I felt numb and sat there bouncing my knee in silent anxiousness while I stared down at the photos in my shaking hands. While the doctor spoke, Braydon’s offer hung heavily on my mind. Could we really do this? Go from a faux-couple to moving in together and raising a baby? Something told me if anyone could do this and do it with humor and ease, it’d be us. We just worked. And it seemed he was finally seeing that.
We were quiet as we left the doctor’s office. The first stop was the drugstore, where we picked up gingerroot for my nausea and a bottle of prenatal vitamins, along with a tub of rocky road ice cream, which I was suddenly craving. Badly. It took every bit of willpower I had not to peel the lid off the carton on the cab rid
e to Braydon’s and dig in with my bare fingers.
Though I hadn’t agreed to anything else, I did agree to a sleepover at his place.
“You sure you don’t need anything? I can lend you something to sleep in, a toothbrush, whatever you want.”
“Thank you, that’ll be perfect.”
He smiled at me, flashing that dimpled grin and those gorgeous blue eyes and I felt calmed, like maybe everything really would be okay somehow. “So . . . dinner, yes? What are you in the mood for?” he asked.
I held up my carton of ice cream. “I’m good.”
He chuckled. “Got it.” Returning a moment later from the kitchen with two spoons, we settled in the living room with the tub of ice cream between us.
I almost made him suffer by refusing to share, but then decided he’d been too sweet today. I couldn’t say no to him.
Over spoonfuls of ice cream, Braydon brought up the topic of me moving in again. “I know there’s not a ton of extra space here, but the baby would sleep in our room for the first few months anyhow, right?”
I let him talk, nodding occasionally, but not coming right out and agreeing to anything. This was a huge step for him. He should at least sleep on it at the very least, make sure it was what he really wanted.
“Why are you being so quiet?” he finally asked.
I shrugged. “It’s just a lot of change, Bray. I don’t expect you to rearrange your whole life just because I got knocked up.”
He released a heavy sigh and took my hands. “I need to say some things.”
I nodded, meeting his eyes. I would listen to anything he had to say. Maybe he was finally coming to his senses about how much work raising a baby would be.
“It was never just sex between us, we both know that. I looked forward to seeing you, bringing you dinner, listening to stories about your day. The truth is, I’m miserable when you’re not with me. You’re the one I want to see every day and I can’t sleep at night until you’ve texted me that you’re in bed. I know I sound like a pussy right now, but I don’t care. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you all this for a while now, but I was worried about your reaction. I didn’t want you thinking I just wanted to start having sex again. And I do, believe me, but I want all of you. No more holding back.” He brought a warm palm to my cheek and stroked my bottom lip with his thumb. “God, Ellie, I’m fucking crazy about you. Your smart mouth, your intelligence, beauty . . . the way you fuck. I think I fell a little bit in love that first night with you. Which was why I fought so hard to enforce the parameters of our arrangement.”
I chewed on my lip. I wanted to believe him, but I was terrified his declaration had more to do with the baby than with me. “Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean we have to . . .”
“Stop. You think I’m just realizing this? Bringing you to my apartment, knocking down all my walls—it was stupid—I should have just told you, but bringing you here was my way of showing you I wanted more with you. I just didn’t want to push you for more when I’d already pushed you away so many times.”
He sat back against the sofa, breaking our connection and looking serious. “And I won’t push you now, either. If you want me—all of me—you have me. If you just want to be friends, you can have that too, as long as you know I’m going to be as involved in this baby’s life as I can possibly be. And it would be a lot easier if you moved in with me. The three of us could be together like a real family, travel to photo shoots together even.”
I stayed silent, tears building in my eyes. It was everything I ever wanted. I was still scared to be a mom, but excited too. “What do you think they’d say if we brought a baby on set?”
“They’d freak at how gorgeous our kid is, obviously.”
“I’m sorry, this is just a lot to process.” I pressed my fingers to my temples, abandoning my spoon in the tub of melting ice cream.
He nodded. “I know. You don’t have to make any decisions right now. Let’s go get ready for bed. It’s been a big day.”
That was the understatement of the year. My day had begun with meeting Braydon to see if we were going to rekindle our friendship, then I’d helped him and Katrina put their pasts behind them, and then came the biggest bombshell of all—finding out I didn’t have the flu after all, and instead was expecting a baby. But the biggest news of all was that Braydon wanted more with me—much more. Asking me to move in was a total shock.
As we got ready for bed, me dressing in an oversized T-shirt of Bray’s, I crawled in between his sheets. I was experiencing his soft linen sheets for the first time. It felt new and completely comfortable at the same time. Like I was meant to be here. Despite my fears that he was only being so open with me because I was pregnant, I found myself thankful that he’d invited me into his space before we knew I was expecting. It made his feelings and his declaration earlier tonight more real. It wasn’t just because of the baby. It was because he’d finally realized that he and I were great together. At least I hoped so. I curled into the fluffy pillow and felt Bray crawl in beside me. His arms snaked around my middle and pulled me to him until my back was nested in against his chest. I smiled into the darkness.
“How are you feeling?” he whispered against my hair.
“Better,” I whispered back. “How are you feeling?”
“Happy.” He kissed the tender spot behind my ear and I felt his smile against my skin. “Goodnight, kitten.”
“Night, Bray.”
I drifted off to sleep, overwhelmed by all the changes of the day but feeling like with Braydon by my side, all was right.
21
As the months passed by, I became more and more excited about moving in with Braydon. We lived too far apart and since we wanted to be together every day, the distance became more and more of an annoyance. It was time. And there was no denying my place was a bit of a dump anyhow. He wouldn’t let me carry a single box, even though I was still active and working out regularly.
I remained upstairs in his apartment, intercepting each box and suitcase he delivered and began the process of melding my life with his. My dresser, which sat across from his, was filled with socks, underwear, and maternity clothes; the space in his closet that he’d cleared held my work clothes; and the bathroom . . . well there was no denying that my toiletries, makeup, and hair items completely overtook his bathroom. Braydon didn’t seem to mind at all. He moved his shaving cream and deodorant onto the windowsill and let me have my way with his bathroom cabinets.
He even made room on his living room shelf for all my favorite books—including the ones with buff shirtless guys on them. Now that was love.
“Last box, babe.” Braydon hoisted the cardboard box over his head as he crossed the threshold and toed the door closed behind him. After depositing the box labeled “Kitchen Stuff” on the counter, he joined me on the couch.
As it so often did these days, Braydon’s hand came to a rest on my belly. “Still no kicking?”
I shook my head. “I’m not quite four months yet, so the doctor said that’s normal.” I knew Braydon was excited to feel the baby move, but I’d read that typically happened between four and five months. “Soon enough.” I patted his hand. I was still nervous about the whole giving-birth thing, but I’d come to accept my new outlook on life. I was even excited to see Braydon as a dad. Since the day we met for coffee, and found out I was pregnant, he’d been there for me every step of the way. He’d been my rock, attended every doctor’s appointment, stocked up his apartment with prenatal vitamins, stuffed animals, and baby-proofing materials even though I told him we had a while before we needed those.
“You know what today is, right?” Braydon smiled like he knew a secret I didn’t.
“Um, no. What?”
“For starters, it’s the six-month anniversary of Emmy and Ben’s wedding.”
“Oh. That’s cool.”
“Which means it’s our six-month anniversary, too.”
I chuckled. “Maybe the anniversary of you
going down on me.”
“Exactly, and from that very first taste you were mine.” I couldn’t deny what he said wasn’t true. I was his, right from the very beginning. He lifted me from the couch and set me on his lap. “I’m so glad you said yes and that you’re here, kitten.”
I laid my head on his shoulder and inhaled the unique scent that was just Bray. “Me too.” I shifted so I could meet his eyes. “You know . . . the nickname kitten is awfully close to Kat—your ex’s name.” I frowned.
His eyebrows shot up. “I never realized, but you’re right. So no more kitten, then?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Hmm.” He touched his forehead to mine. “How about Mrs. Kincaid then? Would that suit you?”
I blinked at him, utterly speechless.
Epilogue
Braydon
I loved watching Ellie like this. Her cheeks were rosy and pink from the cold and her fingers were stretched out, reaching for our daughter. “Come on, you can do it,” she encouraged. Brayleigh let go of her grasp around my index finger and let out a little squeal as she toddled toward her pretty momma. She was just starting to take her first shaky steps when she had assistance or something to hold on to. It was amazing to see.
“What a big girl,” Emmy commented, bouncing their baby boy, Mace, on her hip. He was so bundled up he looked like the Michelin Man. But I wouldn’t make the mistake of telling Emmy that again. Seriously, though, what were they feeding that kid, bacon? He quietly sucked on a pacifier and watched Brayleigh with wide eyes.
The last couple of years of my life were anything but expected. I met Ellie and was immediately attracted to her sassy attitude and quick wit. Not to mention her beauty. Her dark hair was currently pinned up and loose strands were rustling around her face in the breeze. It was early spring, and while there was still a pile of snow blanketing the city, the sun was shining brightly overhead and we were enjoying some much overdue outdoor time at the park.
