by Reese Ryan
He’d casually inquired about Sloane during his absence, but his sister had been unusually tight-lipped about her friend, so he didn’t press. It would only raise his sister’s suspicions about why he was so interested.
So he’d simply told Delia that he needed Sloane’s address for his Christmas list. Not a lie, but not the primary reason he was asking.
Benji had considered picking up the phone and calling Sloane while he was in Japan. But she’d been so adamant that walking away was the right thing to do. There was no way he would’ve been able to persuade her with a long-distance phone call.
He’d kept himself busy with work, but when it was time to book his flight home, he realized he’d arrive on Valentine’s Day.
It had seemed like a sign.
So instead of flying directly to Seattle, he’d booked a flight to Nashville. He needed to speak to Sloane in person.
Maybe he was crazy to believe there could be anything more between them. But dealing with Sloane’s rejection would be a lot less painful than suffering a lifetime of regret.
Clutching the flower arrangement in one arm, he rang Sloane’s buzzer.
“You looking for Sloane?” The woman in the unit across from Sloane’s peered down from the balcony where she was sweeping. “She left a couple of hours ago, but if you have a delivery for her, I’ll sign for it.”
“Thank you.” Benji tried not to sound as defeated as he felt. “But Sloane’s an old family friend. I was hoping to deliver these in person.”
“Then you’re in luck.” The older woman pointed toward a vehicle that had just turned down the lane next to the building. “That’s her truck pulling around back.”
Benji thanked the woman and made his way behind the building. Sloane had parked her car in the garage and was rummaging in her trunk.
He approached her silently, still replaying in his head exactly what he planned to say. Gripping the flowers in one arm, Benji stopped a few feet short of where she stood. He shoved his free hand in his pocket.
“Hey, Sloane.”
“Benji?” Her body stiffened, and she glanced over her shoulder. “What are you doing here?”
Not the reception he’d hoped for. He forced a smile anyway.
“I wanted to surprise you for Valentine’s Day. I thought that, if you don’t already have plans, maybe we could do something together.” He cleared his throat when she still hadn’t turned around. “I flew straight here from Japan because I really needed to see you.”
“You shouldn’t have come.” She turned back to the groceries in her trunk. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”
“I know it isn’t, but—”
“You should go. Now. Please.” She arranged the grocery bags in her trunk into two rows, her back to him.
“Can’t we at least talk about this?” He hated that he sounded like a kid negotiating his bedtime with the babysitter. He was a grown man. A business owner. A self-made fucking billionaire whose business advice was in demand.
So why did he revert to a love-struck little boy whenever he was around Sloane?
“No.” Sloane stood up straight, abruptly smacking her head on the raised deck lid. She swayed, her body going limp.
“Sloane!” Benji dropped the flowers to the ground and surged forward, catching her before she hit the concrete.
“I’ve got you.” He hoisted her into his arms. She was noticeably heavier than she’d been when he’d carried her to his bed six months ago.
Is that why she didn’t want to see him? Was she self-conscious about her weight gain? She should know him well enough to realize that would never matter to him.
“Sloane. Sloane! Honey, are you all right?” His heart beat faster.
She was breathing but unresponsive.
Benji carried her to the passenger side of her car and put her in the seat to drive her to the hospital. He stretched the seat belt to put it over her, his gaze trailing down to her burgeoning belly.
“Sloane, you’re... I mean...are you—”
“Pregnant?” The word came out as more of a moan as her eyes fluttered open. One hand moved to her belly and rubbed it in a soothing circle. “Yes.”
“Exactly how pregnant are you?”
“Very.” Sloane forced a weak laugh, then winced. When he didn’t react, she cleared her throat and her expression grew serious, too. Her response was little more than a whisper. “Six months.”
“Is it... I mean...am I...” He felt as if he were suffocating, unable to get the words out. He swallowed hard and tried again. “Is the baby mine?”
“I haven’t been with anyone but you since my divorce, so my money is on you. I’m not really the immaculate conception type.”
He narrowed his gaze at Sloane. How could she joke about the fact that he was going to be a father in just a few months and she hadn’t even had the decency to let him know. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.” The sarcasm she’d been using as a shield evaporated, and he noticed that the corners of her eyes were suddenly damp. Her gaze didn’t meet his. “That weekend, you made it pretty clear that you weren’t the daddy type.”
“What do you—” He stopped midsentence, recalling their conversation about his niece.
Evie’s a cool kid and everything, but 3:00 a.m. feedings and dirty diapers just aren’t for me.
“I was speaking in hypotheticals. As in, I had no immediate plans to have children. Not as in, I’m such a coldhearted bastard that I wouldn’t want to know my own baby.”
“Babies.” Sloane emphasized the s at the end of the word as she reached up and rubbed the spot where the lid of the trunk had tagged her head. She grimaced.
“Twins?” Benji’s voice reverted to the high pitch of a boy entering puberty. He cleared his throat and tried again. “We’re having twins?”
Benji’s gaze returned to her belly. For a moment he felt weak. As if everything was spinning around them.
“I’m having twins.” Sloane’s voice deepened as she gripped her belly and winced. “Hopefully not at this moment. It’s too soon, but something doesn’t feel right.”
Benji felt the knot rising on her head, then touched her stomach, but drew his hand back. Despite everything they’d done that weekend, the simple act of touching her belly suddenly felt intrusive. Too intimate.
“I’m getting you to a doctor.” He stretched the seat belt across her body and secured it, then demanded her keys.
She stared at him as if she wanted to give him the finger, but she reached into her pocket instead, and handed him the keys without a word.
Benji retrieved the bouquet he’d brought for Sloane from the ground and got into the driver’s seat.
“Those are for me, I presume.” Her voice was softer. Apologetic.
“Oh, yeah. Here.” He handed her the flowers that looked the worse for wear after he’d clenched them in a Vulcan death grip and then dropped them to keep her from falling. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he mumbled bitterly.
“Snapdragons.” She whispered the word as she inhaled their scent. Suddenly tears were running down her face.
“Are you in pain?” He gripped her arm.
“Yes, but that isn’t why I’m crying.” She sniffled. “It’s these stupid hormones and...” She sniffled again, louder this time. “You remembered that I like snapdragons.”
Benji sighed and gave her a pained smile despite the anger that was burning inside his chest. “I remember everything about you, Sloane. No matter how damn hard I’ve tried to forget.”
* * *
Benji’s words hurt.
More than the physical discomfort of one of the twins bouncing on her bladder while her belly felt as if it was being squeezed in a vise.
He’d tried to forget her. Meanwhile, Benji had been all she could think of even be
fore she’d learned she was pregnant—with twins, no less.
Because when she screwed up, she did it big.
She’d spent the two months after their night together regretting that she hadn’t taken him up on his offer to join him in Japan, daydreaming about their incredible night together and wanting him. She’d been so preoccupied with work and thoughts of Benji that she hadn’t noticed that she’d missed not one but two periods. Until the sudden, severe case of morning sickness she developed made it clear she was pregnant.
“I’m sorry you had to find out like this.” Sloane stared out the window, not wanting to see the hatred and disappointment in his eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His words vibrated with hurt and anger. Pain.
“I know I should’ve, but...” She turned toward him, needing to see that he was okay. She licked her lips, her throat incredibly dry. “This isn’t what you signed up for. We agreed to a one-night stand, not an eighteen-year commitment as parents. Besides, you made it pretty clear that kids weren’t something you wanted.”
“I was speaking in generalities, Sloane.” He clenched the wheel as he turned a corner.
“You said, and I quote—”
“I’m aware of what I said. I remember everything that happened between us that night.” He took another sharp turn, following the directions of the GPS app. “But how could you think that meant I wouldn’t take care of my own flesh and blood, or wouldn’t want to know that I have a son or daughter somewhere out in the world?”
“It’s both.” She winced again, pressing a hand to her belly, trying to calm herself as the pain got worse. “A boy and a girl.”
He glanced at her quickly before returning his gaze to the road. “Does this happen often? The pain, I mean?”
“Not like this.” Tears stung her eyes, more from fear than from the pain. It was too early for the twins to be born. Not if they were going to be okay. She forced a laugh. “Usually it’s just discomfort from your son bouncing his big head on my bladder and your daughter doing some kind of calisthenics. I swear, that girl is going to be a gymnast.”
“Everything is gonna be okay.” He reached over and squeezed her hand, despite the reserved anger in his tone. “First, we make sure you and the babies are all right. Then...”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” she said, grateful to see the hospital sign come into view. “I promise.”
* * *
Benji hadn’t stopped pacing outside Sloane’s hospital room since they’d admitted her.
He was going to be a father of two babies—a boy and a girl. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it. He’d been responsible and used protection every time they were together.
How could this have happened?
Benji’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he glanced at the screen. It was his mother. Probably checking to see if he’d returned safely from Japan. But he didn’t dare answer the call. Not yet. Not until he’d gotten some definitive answers from Sloane about why she hadn’t told him he was going to be a father. Regardless of what he’d said that night, he couldn’t believe that was the only reason Sloane had kept something this important from him.
He respected the fact that it was Sloane who was carrying these babies, but they were half his, too. What about his right to know? And to be part of his children’s lives? Sloane’s father had left home when she was around ten. She understood the pain of living without a father. Why would she intentionally subject their kids to the same fate?
The door opened, and the doctor introduced herself and invited him into the room where Sloane was hooked up to an IV. She gave him an apologetic smile before lowering her gaze to her hands, which were pressed to her belly.
“Is Sloane okay? Will the twins be all right?” he asked Dr. Carroll.
The older woman placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Sloane is going to be just fine, Mr. Bennett. She’s experiencing something called Braxton Hicks contractions. It’s basically the uterus practicing up for child labor.” Her smile deepened. “They’re usually painless, but Sloane is experiencing particularly intense ones today. She’s dehydrated. That likely contributed to it.”
He nodded dumbly, his hands shaking and his head feeling light. None of this seemed real.
“Perhaps you should have a seat.” Worry lines spanned the doctor’s forehead as she indicated a sofa along the wall. She sat beside him. “Just take a deep breath. I realize this must seem very overwhelming, but everything is going to be fine.”
“Sorry, this is all kind of a surprise.”
“I know.” The woman nodded gravely. “Sloane explained the situation to me. I can only imagine what a shock it must’ve been. But the good news is, you have the opportunity to be there for the birth of your children. And you and Sloane still have lots of time before the twins are born to hash things out.” She looked pointedly at both of them in a firm but kind manner. “The twins are counting on you two to do that.”
“Will she be released today?” Benji wasn’t ready to talk about making nice. Not until he got some straight answers.
“I want to observe her for another hour. But as long as everything looks good, yes, she can go home. This isn’t preterm labor, but I still want her to take it easy.” The woman shifted her gaze to Sloane, and her tone and expression turned more serious. “Make sure she understands my instructions that she refrain from working. That includes not hauling groceries around. If she can’t comply with my limited restrictions, I’ll have to put her on full bed rest.”
“I understand,” Sloane said, her expression contrite. “I would never knowingly put the babies in jeopardy.”
“I know you wouldn’t, Sloane. But you’re carrying multiples. That makes everything a little trickier. So let’s err on the side of caution.” Dr. Carroll moved beside Sloane and squeezed her arm briefly before making a few notes on the tablet in her hand and checking the monitor.
“Any other specific things she shouldn’t be doing?” Benji was on his feet beside the doctor.
“Nothing strenuous. No lifting or high-impact exercise. Walking, swimming and gentle yoga should be okay.” She turned to Sloane. “But you should monitor how you’re feeling. Make sure there’s no pain or unusual discomfort.” She turned back to Benji with a sly smile. “And there are no restrictions on sex, within reason. If that’s what you’re asking.”
Benji’s cheeks heated and he sputtered, “No, that isn’t what I was asking.”
“Relax, Benj.” Sloane and the doctor were laughing. “I have no intention of jumping you when we get back to my place.”
Benji glared at her, not acknowledging her jab. He returned his attention to the doctor. “I was referring to the bump she took to the head. She passed out momentarily. Does she have a concussion? Will it impact the twins?”
“Relax, Mr. Bennett.” Dr. Carroll’s voice was patient and soothing. Like she was trying to convince a man in a straitjacket that he hadn’t been abducted by aliens. “She has a little knot there, but no concussion. We applied an ice pack to reduce the swelling. Something she should continue to do off and on this evening. But if she suddenly seems woozy or disoriented, by all means, bring her back.”
“Will the Braxton Hicks contractions always be this strong?” Sloane asked. Her voice was strained, the levity gone.
Benji quickly made his way over to Sloane and let her grip his hand. It seemed to ease her discomfort.
When he looked up at the doctor she was smiling, seemingly pleased by his instinctive need to comfort Sloane.
“If you stay hydrated, knock off strenuous activities and reduce your stress levels, hopefully they won’t be as intense. In fact, you might not feel them at all.” Dr. Carroll turned to Benji. “If they do become intense, give her fluids and get her to walk around a little. That should relieve them.”
The woman handed him a pamphlet from her pocket
. “I went over this with Sloane earlier. It outlines the difference between Braxton Hicks contractions and preterm labor—which can be dangerous for the babies at this stage. Study it. Memorize it. We want these babies to gestate until at least thirty-seven weeks, if possible.”
“Benji doesn’t live here. He’ll be going back to Seattle,” Sloane interjected.
“No, I won’t. I’m not leaving your side until the twins are born. Not up for discussion,” he added, glaring at her again when she opened her mouth to object.
She snapped her mouth shut and rubbed her belly.
“Good.” Dr. Carroll nodded approvingly. “Because she’s been trying to do this on her own for too long, and I’ve been worried about her.”
Benji couldn’t help the twinge of guilt in his gut at the doctor’s remarks, despite the fact that he couldn’t possibly have known that Sloane was struggling through this pregnancy on her own. The guilt quickly turned to resentment.
He should’ve been there, and he would’ve been, if only Sloane had given him the courtesy of a single phone call or even a text message.
“All right, I don’t expect to see you again until your next scheduled visit at the office.” Dr. Carroll raised one brow at Sloane before turning to Benji. “Walk me out, Mr. Bennett?”
He followed the woman into the hall.
“I know you must be angry and that you have many questions for Sloane.” She pinned him with her piercing blue eyes. “I don’t begrudge you for that. But she doesn’t need any unnecessary stress. So keep that in mind as you search for answers and you two decide what comes next. Capisce?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Good.” Her expression softened. She patted his arm. “Give her a chance to explain. And listen to all the things she’s afraid to say. She’s one tough lady, but deep down she’s terrified of going through this alone. So don’t let her fool you into believing that she doesn’t want or need your help.” Dr. Carroll reached out to shake Benji’s hand. “You two take care of each other and the two little people growing inside her.”
