SEXT ME

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SEXT ME Page 19

by Layla Valentine


  “I’m on my way,” he says immediately, and I chuckle in disbelief.

  “You can’t just blow off your business trip, can you?” I ask, and he huffs rather melodramatically. I listen to him as he seems to rummage through some paperwork, speaking in a Chinese dialect to someone.

  “I told them I’ll be back. It’s only a fourteen-hour flight,” he says dismissively, though I’m almost certain I can hear angry shouting in the background.

  I part my lips to argue, but he’s speaking in a rush before I get the chance.

  “I’ll be there around ten tomorrow morning. I’ll call my doctor and have him schedule us. See you soon,” he says quickly, hanging up the phone.

  I sputter incoherently for a moment before realizing he hung up. The reception was so poor, I could barely even hear him.

  I draw my cellphone away from my ear, glancing towards the clock. Well, seeing as Dillon would probably stroke out over the idea of me venturing into the big bad world today, I decide to watch a few soap operas on his enormous flat-screen TV. There’s something a bit strange about seeing every blemish in extreme high definition, but there’s not much else I feel like doing. It’s been a long day of throwing up into the toilet and finally working up the courage to do the test.

  I drift off in the middle of my favorite show, lost to the world until the front door bursts open late the next morning. I jolt upright, panicking for a moment. I feel strong arms wrap around me, yanking me off my feet and holding me close.

  “I’m going to be a dad!” the intruder booms, and I relax into his arms upon realizing that it’s anything but a crazed murderer.

  Dillon shakes with barely-repressed emotion, and I move to shift out of his grip. He only tightens his hold on me, adjusting me so he’s carrying me in the bridal position.

  He sweeps me away to his bedroom, where he gently kisses along the column of my neck. Startled yet thrilled, I open my robe to allow him access to my breasts. Instead, he simply settles his cheek against the still-flat plane of my stomach.

  I don’t want to ruin the moment, so I remain silent as he simply revels in thoughts of the future. He’s going to be a father, and though it will be unlikely that I’ll get the chance to know my child, I’ll be a mother, nonetheless.

  “Kiss me, Dillon,” I request softly, reddening as he tilts his head to look up at me.

  Smiling, he presses a kiss just above my navel. Pouting, I give him a slight shove. Undeterred by my irritation, he draws close to me and presses a sweet kiss to my lips.

  “I don’t know where I would be without you,” he murmurs.

  I smile weakly, brushing a hand through his hair. As much as he means to me, and as kind as he’s being, I know he doesn’t love me. I guide his head back to my stomach, soothing us both by gently scratching the back of his neck. He groans gratefully, getting comfortable against me.

  Apparently exhausted from the trip, he drifts off into a peaceful slumber. Well, we’ve got a busy few months ahead of us.

  The first doctor’s appointment goes swimmingly, though we learn very little. Claiming to know a more advanced facility, Dillon schedules me for routine appointments at the new practice as well as a 12-week ultrasound with a separate clinic. I give it very little thought, but he is thrilled. As much as I expect the time to pass agonizingly, the ultrasound appointment comes around remarkably quickly.

  I’m in bed enjoying a short snooze. Dillon has gone to pick up some snacks, tending to the cravings I’ve been having. He’s already a good father, and I can’t deny that I’ve considered the fact that he would be a good husband. I try to ignore those thoughts, however. I find myself exhausted since finding out I’m pregnant, though I suppose it’s mostly psychological. I simply can’t get enough sleep.

  I hear Dillon step through the front door and I roll onto my side with a soft groan. I squeeze my eyes closed, holding a pillow over my head.

  “Come on, to the doctor’s office we go,” he announces grandly, scooping me up and marching towards the door.

  “Wait, Dillon! I need to get dressed, brush my hair and—” I cut myself off with a squeak as he carries me out of the apartment.

  I toss the pillow through the door before he can close it, groaning dramatically as he steps into the elevator, which stops at each lower-down floor to pick up more people. I can’t deny the awkwardness of the situation, but I suppose his excitement is really sweet—and somewhat infectious as well.

  “I guess this makes it official. You’re going to be a daddy,” I whisper.

  He bounces on his heels, looking as if he can barely keep himself from announcing it to the whole elevator.

  Once we’re on the ground floor, Dillon continues to carry me as if I’m incapable of walking on my own. I might be offended in any other case, but I find myself rather touched by the doting attention. Unsurprisingly, Milo waits outside with the limousine, opening the backseat door to allow us to settle inside.

  Dillon keeps me tightly in his grasp, and I can’t help but take advantage of the situation. I settle close against him, inhaling the scent I’ve come to adore so much. I caress his jaw, enjoying the slight bit of stubble I feel.

  “You should grow a beard,” I suggest idly, and he laughs in response.

  “Would that add to my sexy dad appeal?” he asks in faux seriousness.

  I roll my eyes, not answering as I allow my eyes to flutter closed. I don’t know how I survived without him for the month he was absent. I can’t stand the thought of knowing he’ll have to go back for the rest of his business trip, once things have settled somewhat.

  “C’mon now. The doctor is eager to see us,” he murmurs gently.

  I blink my eyes open, the sun nearly blinding in my drowsy state as we get out of the limo and walk into the clinic.

  “Why couldn’t we see the same doctor?” I inquire idly.

  The interior of the doctor’s office is much easier on the eyes, but there’s something about Dillon’s comforting presence that makes me want to close my eyes and drift away. I’m only half-listening to him as he explains, naming off some unspeakably large amount of money he shelled out for a ‘better suited’ doctor.

  I jolt upright in alarm as he places me on a rather cold cot. I whine softly, looking imploringly at him. His cheeks flush, and he gestures to another man standing in the room.

  “Miss Law, you must be the surrogate. You two are awfully cozy, aren’t you?” he says with a warm smile, stepping towards me. He mentions the ultrasound that he’ll have a nurse perform to check the health of the baby. I simply smile and nod.

  A short time later, the nurse steps in and preps me for the ultrasound.

  “Oh, my,” she says softly, glancing towards me and Dillon.

  Dillon’s eyes widen in alarm, and he lurches towards the machine even though he has no means of reading the output. All I can make out are some vague shapes on the screen.

  “Is the baby okay?” he inquires nervously.

  The nurse laughs, waving him off.

  “Yes, Mr. Bradshaw. All three of them are in perfect health, from what I’m able to tell,” she placates, adjusting the ultrasound probe. “Here we are,” she announces, gesturing towards the screen.

  She moves the probe, but I can still only make out indistinct shapes. Dillon’s eyes are bulging nearly from his skull, and for a moment I can only wonder what’s wrong. Then, the nurse’s words finally register.

  Three?!

  The ultrasound continues, the nurse pointing out each baby’s tiny beating heart on the ultrasound screen. My breath catches in my throat, and as she offers me a towel to wipe down with, it’s all I can do to keep from fainting. Dillon doesn’t seem to be in much better shape, looking at me with bewilderment in his gaze.

  How on earth did this happen?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dillon

  For a moment, I’m certain that I’ve misheard her. It simply can’t be. Three children? I didn’t sign up for three children! I only wanted one hei
r.

  This complicates things dramatically, not to mention potentially endangering Charlotte’s health. I don’t know how this happened; short of fertility supplements, I can’t imagine triplets are particularly common.

  Charlotte looks as surprised as I am. However, some moments later, she has an expression of realization and resignation.

  “Three. Three children. How…” I manage, shifting over to the bed where Charlotte’s trying to wipe the ultrasound gel off.

  Seeming to sense the rising tension in the room, the nurse excuses herself politely. For her part, Charlotte shrugs rather noncommittally and I can’t help feeling as if she knows something I don’t. I reach out to touch her shoulder, and she looks at me from the corner of her eye.

  “How can you be so calm? This isn’t what we agreed on,” I demand, sounding somewhat more accusing than I’d intended.

  Her eyes narrow dangerously, and she slaps my hand away.

  “Don’t raise your voice at me,” she snaps, and before I can apologize, she’s speaking again. “Multiple births run in my family. I have a twin sister, and my grandma has a twin as well. While triplets certainly aren’t as common…” She trails off, looking stressed.

  I brace myself against the examination table, staring at the now-blank ultrasound screen. What I’ve seen is unmistakable—three tiny and distinct hearts steadily beating along.

  “I only wanted one heir,” I begin, trying not to sound as uncertain as I feel.

  Anger darkens her eyes, with tears simultaneously pricking the corners. I’m not sure if she’s going to cry or lash out at me, and I hesitantly take a step back. I have no idea how to process the news, and her immediate angry reaction is only serving to upset me in turn.

  “You should have told me about this family…quirk of yours. I wanted one child. Not three,” I continue.

  “Well, you wanted one heir for one million dollars. Now, you get three for three million,” she says icily.

  Fury surges up within me, and I cross my arms over my chest, leveling her with a glare.

  “You know that’s not how this works, Charlotte. You’re being ridiculous,” I hiss, trying to keep the bite out of my tone.

  I’m not particularly successful, judging by the wounded expression on her face. She rests her hand on her stomach, its noticeably larger-than-average swelling finally making sense. Drawing her lip between her teeth, for a brief moment, it appears she may apologize. A single tear trickles down her cheek, and I part my lips to try to calm the situation.

  “The contract was for one million dollars per child. It’s only fair that you pay the three million. You’re not the one ruining your body in the process. You’re not the one—” she begins, but I’m quick to interrupt.

  “You’re not the one raising them, Charlotte! As far as the contract, it was clearly written for one million dollars upon the provision of a single heir. The way I see it, the contract is null and void,” I shout, anger lancing through my being.

  She looks shocked by my outburst, and truthfully, I can’t say I’m proud of myself. We’re too far gone for apologies at this point, however. If she insists on making this about money, I fully intend to enforce her contractual obligations.

  “I actually thought you cared about me,” she whispers, quickly pulling her clothes back on.

  I can’t help but roll my eyes, fumbling in my pocket for my phone as it begins to vibrate.

  “You’ve made it abundantly clear how you feel about me, Charlotte. We didn’t enter this contract under the pretense of having feelings for each other. I made it very clear that I have no desire for any sort of baggage. I wouldn’t go developing feelings for a woman who has gone out of her way to try and ruin me,” I say coldly, my heart breaking a bit at my own words.

  While it’s the furthest thing from the truth, if she wants to wound me emotionally, I’m prepared to defend myself.

  My phone continues to vibrate in my hand, and for the moment, she remains silent. I answer the call before it’s able to go to my voicemail. It’s one of my business associates in China, explaining that there’s some sort of emergency halting the deal in its tracks. I swear under my breath before swapping to the other language, explaining that I’ll return within 24 hours. The man on the line sounds pleased, and I quickly hang up before turning to consider Charlotte for a moment longer.

  Tears stream down her cheeks, and her shoulders shake from the force of her sobs. She refuses to look at me, and it strikes me just how callous my words have been. I approach the bed nervously, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

  “Don’t touch me,” she snaps weakly.

  I draw away, wringing my hands nervously.

  “You know what? You’re right. I suppose you’re smarter than I gave you credit for. You’ve finally come to terms with the fact that I’ll never feel anything for you but hate,” she hisses, shoving me away from the bed.

  I stumble back, eyes widening in shock at her words. I want to believe she’s as hurt as I am, but her lips are twisted into a cruel smile.

  “You think these tears are for you? I’m simply mourning the loss of my million dollars,” she continues, rubbing her eyes.

  “You don’t…” I trail off, letting the statement die on my lips.

  Of course she means it. All she’s ever wanted is to ruin me. I’m being foolish, believing that there was ever anything more to our relationship. While it occurs to me that I was the one to start this confrontation, I’m confident that a good person couldn’t be as cold as to say what Charlotte is directing towards me. I never should have believed there was something more behind those angry green eyes.

  “I’m leaving,” I say abruptly, and she looks at me with wide eyes.

  “What?” she demands, moving to swing her legs off of the cot.

  “I’m needed in China—clearly much more than I’m needed here. I know when to cut my losses, and you’ll find that the contract was ironclad in its terminology. If you expect to get a dime out of me, you’re more of a fool than I’ve been,” I explain calmly, though my insides feel as if they’re about to implode.

  She looks surprised as I turn to the door, as if she doesn’t expect me to actually leave.

  “You can’t be serious. You can’t do this to me, Dillon. You—” her voice catches, and she begins to weep again.

  As much as I want to turn and console her, insist that I’ll be there no matter what, I won’t allow myself to be captured in her grasp again. I hear her call out for me as I step through the door, pushing it closed behind me. The nurses in the hall look away as if they’ve not been listening to every word exchanged in the room.

  The walk towards the exit is something of a walk of shame, and I find myself faced with the doctor before I’m actually able to leave. He looks torn, glancing from me to the door I realize he’d been listening as well. I cross my arms over my chest, almost daring him to speak ill towards me.

  “You know, it’s obvious how you feel about each other,” he offers. I inhale a shuddering breath, pushing past the man. “She loves you, Mr. Bradshaw. I’m no love doctor, but I’m sure of it,” he calls after me.

  I push down the large part of me that wants nothing more than to believe him. Even if she had cared about me, even loved me, I’m sure that’s not the case anymore.

  Returning to China will give me some time to clear my head, and truly consider what I want to do in regards to this relationship. Granted, it can’t exactly be called a relationship. As I step out the door, I feel a dampness on my cheeks. I glance upwards at the sunny blue sky above. There’s not a cloud in sight.

  Unfortunately, there will be no obscuring my tears. I can’t lie, even to myself. I reach to wipe them away before ducking into the limousine where Milo waits. If he’s curious as to where Charlotte may be, he doesn’t show it. I simply direct him to take me to my personal jet, and as always, he obliges.

  While some help and happiness can be purchased, it seems the most important things in life have no real price
tag. It’s too bad I’ve already screwed everything up by trying to tack one onto the only woman I’ve ever loved.

  Charlotte can never be bought.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Charlotte

  Have you ever felt as if your heart simply stopped beating? For a second, just half a breath, your heart simply stops. I’m certain that’s what I’m feeling now that Dillon is gone. It’s as if every reason I’ve found for living has been ripped out from under me.

  The tears continue to fall for some time, even as the nurse steps in to check on me. I know she would like nothing more than for me to leave, but what she doesn’t know is that my future lays in shattered pieces before me. Judging by the sympathy in her eyes, however, maybe she knows more than she lets on.

  Allowing her to help me off the examination table, I wrap Dillon’s robe more tightly around myself. His scent clings to every fiber in the cursed thing, and I want nothing more than to throw it in the nearest dumpster. No, that’s not true. I can think of several things I want more than to be rid of my final reminder of the man I love…

  Shuddering, I make my way out of the doctor’s office, though I have no idea where to go from here. The obvious answer is my apartment, the rent for which Dillon has paid for the past few months. In case I need an escape of some sort, apparently.

  How did we fall from such heights to this pit of despair? Had he meant what he’d said? Does he not feel anything for me? I find that I can’t cease the tears that spill down my cheeks, even as I walk down the sidewalk in the direction of my apartment.

  Dillon has left me with no money, without a damn thing, except for the robe I’m wearing. I know I must look like a crazy woman walking down the city sidewalks in a silk robe and pajamas. Hell, I’ve not even had the opportunity to change out of the bedroom shoes I’m wearing.

 

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