My Unexpected Family: California Billionaires Book 3

by Harlow James

  “And how are you feeling now?”

  “Oh, pregnancy is a fucking picnic,” she says sarcastically. “I’m constantly nauseous, throw up at least three times a day, and nothing sounds good…except for buffalo wings, apparently.”

  Ah, so now her little outburst at Hayes makes more sense.

  Shock continues to rest in my stomach as a barrage of questions assault my mind. “Have you…gone to the doctor?”

  “Not yet. I have an appointment in a week though. Apparently, they won’t really see first time mom’s until you’re around twelve weeks.”

  “I’m going with you,” I declare, which has her looking at me slightly confused.

  “You are?”

  “Yes.” I stand up tall and take in a deep breath, accepting the reality of the situation a little bit more. “You’re not doing this alone, Chloe. I know we don’t know each other very well, but this is my child too. I don’t run from my responsibilities. I’m not saying we have to be together, but I will be involved in my child’s life, and that starts now.”

  She inhales deeply and then blows out a big breath of air. “Yeah. Okay.”

  “And whatever you need, I’m here,” I say, sitting down again and reaching for her hand. “Cravings, medicine…just let me know and I’ll get it for you.”

  She smiles softly. “That’s a pretty bold offer, Silas. I could easily take advantage of what you’re offering.”

  “Well, just be careful not to abuse the privilege I’m giving you, and we’ll be fine.” I wink, which has her smiling wider. “I’m serious, Chloe. We’re in this together.”

  She nods and then squeezes my hand. “Okay. Thank you, Silas. And sorry again for just shouting that out in front of everyone.”

  “After getting to know you thus far, I wouldn’t have expected anything less.”

  * * *

  “Nonna?” I call out as I enter through the solid wooden door of the house I spent a large part of my childhood in. And most of the time, coming here gives me a sense of relief, loosening up the tightness in my chest that rests there every day. Unfortunately, tonight being here and knowing what I have to divulge to my grandmother is having the opposite effect.

  “In the kitchen.”

  I roll my eyes, knowing damn well that’s where I would have found her. Nonna is always at the stove. But God bless that woman and her culinary abilities. So many of her recipes have inspired dishes in our restaurants and have helped us make a name for ourselves with authentic Italian cuisine.

  As I make my way through the living room and round the corner of the kitchen, my grandmother peers at me over her shoulder. “How’s my favorite grandson?”

  “Uh, alright.”

  “Just alright?” She turns the burner off on the stove and then spins to face me. The smell of basil and tomatoes hits my nose, which means she has to be making sauce. One glance around her at the massive pot on the stove and I have my answer.

  “Yeah. It’s been a crazy couple of weeks,” I reply, trying to buy my time before I have to tell my grandmother that I’m having a baby with a woman I barely know, a task that has my stomach in knots as her face contorts with concern.

  Given that my parents are dead, it makes sense that the person I’m most terrified of telling is the woman who practically raised me even when they were alive. My father ran the restaurant chain with my grandfather until he died suddenly of a heart attack when I was fourteen, and my mother was a very revered teacher in our community, so they were always busy. But they always made time for their children. They tried like hell to make every sports game and dance recital, we ate dinner together as a family as often as we could, and I never felt like my parents didn’t love us.

  But my parents always fought or didn’t speak to each other at all. They were so busy taking care of us and working that they basically led two very separate lives. Our home wasn’t without love, but my sisters and I didn’t exactly see a healthy example of marriage growing up. And then when they went away one weekend trying to rekindle their romance, they died in a car accident.

  So my nonna was the only constant I remember, especially after my nonno died. And at age sixteen, I became the only De Luca left to inherit the family business, which by that time was a multi-million dollar affair.

  Because I wasn’t old enough to inherit it outright, the vice president, who also happened to be a friend of my dad’s, took over but almost ran it into the ground. Our profits plummeted and a few locations had to close. He was embezzling money from the company, neglecting to pay suppliers and employees and letting things slip through the cracks. The moment I was able to, I swept in and helped save the company I was raised to be proud of. Al Forno was a revered name known far and wide and I was not about to let that change.

  It was challenging being in college and running a business at the same time, but having a degree was important to me, so I made it a point to finish. And when the company hit the billion-dollar net-worth mark a few years ago, I couldn’t help but beam with pride.

  “Talk to me, mio nipote,” she says as she takes a few steps toward me. When she uses the Italian term for my grandson, I know she’s concerned.

  I sigh in defeat. “Nonna…”

  “Don’t run in the house!” My sister, Valentina, shouts before I can get another word out.

  My nephew, Lorenzo, comes barreling into the kitchen, slamming into my legs and squeezing me hard. “Zio!”

  “Enzo, my man!” I hoist him up on my hip and stare down into the dark brown eyes that most of the De Luca family sports. “You are getting way too big, sir.”

  “I’m almost five. When I turn five I’ll be even bigger!”

  “Is that how that works?” I smirk at him as my sister comes around the corner, exhaustion written all over her face.

  “Yes. That’s what happens on your birthday. You grow up.”

  “Lorenzo, please listen when I tell you not to run.”

  “Is it really that big of a deal that he was excited to see his favorite uncle?” I ask.

  “It is when he trips and falls and slams his head into the floor, causing him to lose teeth, or break his nose…”

  “That’s being a little dramatic,” I mutter out of the side of my mouth to Lorenzo as he giggles.

  “Easy for you to say, Mr. I-don’t-have-kids.”

  Her words have my face falling flat and a bead of sweat forming on my brow. “Uh, you’re right. Enzo, don’t run if your mom says so.” I set him down on his feet and then step around my sister and Nonna in the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

  I can feel the two of them stare at my back, but I refuse to look behind me right now.

  “Mamma, can I watch cartoons?” Enzo says while pulling on Valentina’s dress.

  “Sure, buddy. Let’s get you all set up so Mamma can help Nonna finish dinner.”

  “Nonsense,” my grandmother says, waving Valentina off. “Go put your feet up. I can tell you’ve had a rough day.”

  “The nausea is so bad.” Valentina cringes and then looks over at me. “I guess now’s the time to tell you you’re going to be an uncle again.”

  “Aw, Valentina. That’s great.” I pull her in for a hug while my heart beats erratically. Would this be the perfect time to tell her she’s going to be an aunt? “Congratulations. I knew you were trying again.”

  “Yup. It finally stuck. Took almost a year, but so far so good.” She holds up crossed fingers as Lorenzo pulls on her dress again.

  “Come on, Mamma. Please!”

  “Alright, alright.” She turns to face me once more. “We can catch up more once Oliver arrives.” Her husband operates a winery here in Santa Barbara and usually shows up a little later to our family dinners.

  It’s been a few weeks since we’ve all come together, and even though I generally look forward to these dinners, tonight has me itching with anticipation.

  “So, you gonna help me with the spaghetti?” Nonna asks, pulling my attention back to her.

  “
Si, Nonna. Of course.” She and I both know she doesn’t need help with the spaghetti and could probably cook half-a-dozen meals in her sleep. But this is her way of letting me process without talking. She’s always understood that I need time to gather my thoughts—and even though I’ve had two days to accept what Chloe told me on Friday night—putting that into words to admit to my family is still something that seems like one of the hardest moments of my life.

  I fetch the pasta from the pantry and carefully place it in the pot of boiling water. She hums in approval while watching me, and then moves to dice vegetables for a salad.

  “You never told me how Wes’s wedding was?” The knife makes a clicking noise against the cutting board as she slices through a cucumber.

  “Oh. Well, it was…beautiful. He’s very happy, and his wife is a good fit for him.”

  “Hmmm. Well, that man deserves happiness.”

  “Yes he does.”

  “So do you, Silas.”

  I roll my eyes. “I like my life the way it is, Nonna.” Although I guess the truth of the matter is that’s all about to change.

  “Yes, well I think you need some excitement. I can’t remember the last time I saw you truly living.” She tosses the cucumbers on top of the lettuce and then reaches for the ruby red tomato on the counter.

  “I’m living. I get up every day, go to work, check in on my family.”

  “Your family is living just fine without all of your phone calls.”

  Sighing, I pick up the wooden spoon and stir the noodles around in the pot as they begin to soften. “So I’m not allowed to be worried about you all?”

  “Not if it’s preventing you from living, Silas.” She turns to face me as I do the same to her. “There’s something on your mind. I can feel it. Your aura is heavy.”

  Nonna and her auras. She swears she can feel energy, and she’s done it enough to me in my life to know when I’m having an internal battle.

  “There is something on my mind, but it’s…it’s not just heavy, Nonna. It’s life-changing.”

  “Tell me, mio nipote.”

  “Tell her what?” Valentina asks as she enters the kitchen and moves to fill a glass with water from the fridge. When she finishes and turns to face me, I take a deep breath and then utter the words out loud for the first time to the two women who know me better than anyone else. My other sisters will be here later, but Valentina and Nonna have always been the two women in my family I’ve felt closest to.

  “I’m…I’m gonna be a father.”

  Valentina spits out the water in her mouth as Nonna’s jaw drops open. “I’m sorry…what did you just say?”

  “I’m having a baby.”

  “With a woman?” my sister asks disbelievingly.

  “Yes, with a woman. Jesus,” I mutter, raking my hand through my hair and then turning back to the pasta.

  “Silas, do not use the Lord’s name in vain.” Nonna comes up behind me and places her palm on my shoulder blade. “You took us by surprise, that’s the only reason for your sister’s outburst.” I look over my shoulder and see her shoot a death glare in Valentina’s direction. “How…when…”

  “I think we both know how, Nonna,” Valentina interjects. “But I’d definitely like to know when.” She crosses her arms and then smirks in my direction.

  “You’d better wipe that smirk off your face or I won’t tell you shit,” I fire back at her, now battling a level of irritation within that is overpowering.

  “Silas,” my grandmother warns, pulling my gaze back to her. “Let’s sit.” She checks the pasta, turns off the burner and then pours two glasses of red wine for herself and me. Valentina grabs her water and then we take a seat at the table as cartoons blare in the living room where Lorenzo is currently occupied.

  Valentina decides to go first. “When did you find out?”

  “Friday night at Wes’s house.”

  “So this woman knows your friends?”

  “She’s Wes’s wife’s best friend.”

  “Well, that makes this a little more complicated then,” she says before taking a drink.

  “And what is her name?” Nonna chimes in.

  “Chloe,” I reply while trying to fight the slight up-turn of my lips.

  “You’re smiling,” my sister points out because of course she would catch that.

  “I am not.”

  “So I take it you at least like this woman?”

  “Oh, she’s a lot to take in, but yes…I like her.”

  “Well, that’s good,” Nonna agrees encouragingly.

  “Or it makes this more complicated,” Valentina replies.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, do you have feelings for her?”

  I huff out a laugh. “I barely know her.”

  “Yes, but there’s a gleam in your eyes when you speak about her.”

  “You’re just trying to find shit now.”

  “Silas,” my grandmother interjects, “are you sure she’s pregnant?”

  “I mean, that’s what she said. She has an appointment with her doctor some time in the next week. According to when it…happened, she should be about nine or ten weeks right now.”

  Valentina looks up to the ceiling as if she’s calculating something. “Oh!” Her eyes light up. “So, this was a vacation fling turned sour then.”

  “What?”

  “Well, if she’s friends with Wes’s wife, I’m assuming you slept with her at the wedding?”

  “It’s scary how analytical you are being about my sex life right now.”

  She shrugs. “Just trying to do the math. So how does she feel? What does she want from you?”

  I take a sip of my wine and then sigh as I hear the front door open and close. Valentina’s husband, Oliver, walks over to us at the table and kisses my sister on the top of her head. “Sorry I’m late.” His eyes veer over to me. “Silas…what’s going on, man? You look stressed.”

  Valentina scoffs. “Stressed doesn’t even begin to cover it. Silas is gonna be a daddy.”

  Oliver’s eyebrows jump. “Really? You? The guy who swears he’ll never get married or have a family?”

  “With good reason,” I fire back, knowing that deep down that decision I made years ago was purposeful.

  “Nonsense, is what it is. Now answer your sister’s question,” Nonna says, and I take another sip of my wine before continuing.

  “Well, after she told me the other night, we talked for a bit. She’s been feeling pretty shitty—lots of morning sickness and nausea, light-headedness.”

  “All normal.”

  “And she’s sure about keeping it, so of course I’m going to step up. I’m not going to abandon my child, even though this is not what I had envisioned for my life.”

  “Damn right, you’re not going to run away. You will help raise this baby, Silas,” Nonna declares.

  “I’m aware, Nonna.”

  “Don’t get sassy with me,” she balks and Valentina chuckles behind her hand.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “And you will bring this woman to meet us.”

  I cringe for a minute at that thought—not because I’m ashamed of Chloe—that’s not it at all. It’s just that Chloe is…well, how do you explain a woman like Chloe? I don’t know that there is anything I could say to prepare my family for her. Hell, I’m surprised half the time by the shit that comes out of that woman’s mouth.

  “Uh…”

  “You will bring this woman to meet us, Silas. And that’s that.” She stands from the table and heads back into the kitchen. “I want to know the woman that is carrying my great-grandchild, and she will be a part of this family.”

  “Nonna has spoken,” Valentina whispers across the table while widening her eyes in amusement.

  “I’m so glad you’re enjoying this.”

  “Oh, there’s still so much to enjoy on your account, big brother. You have no idea what you’re in for.” She chuckles and then stands up to greet her husband with a
kiss.

  “She’s right, man. Good luck.”

  Luck. Yup…I’ll be needing plenty of that.

  * * *

  “Hey. Sorry I’m a few minutes late. I was fighting traffic.” I lean down and plant a kiss on Chloe’s cheek as she sits in her chair in the waiting room of the OBGYN’s office.

  My kiss must have taken her by surprise because she gives me a perplexed look. And to be honest, I’m not sure why I did that. It just felt natural, I guess.

  “It’s okay. I’m still waiting, obviously.” She flips through the pages of a magazine in her hands, stopping on an advertisement for vodka. “God, I miss booze.”

  “Why would they put an advertisement for booze in a parenting magazine?”

  “Oh, this isn’t a parenting magazine. This is People,” she says, showing me the front cover. “And even if it were, I would assume parents are probably the leading consumers of alcohol.”

  “Shouldn’t you be reading up on what we’re going to be expecting instead of the lives of celebrities?”

  She leans back in her chair and there’s a fire in her eyes. “Are you telling me what I should be doing when I’m the one carrying this baby?”

  “It was merely a suggestion, but I think we should both take this seriously, Chloe. I don’t know about you, but I have no idea what we’re in for. I mean, I have one nephew, but I merely held him for a few moments here and there when he was a baby, and now he’s about to be five. I don’t know how to change a diaper, what to expect after you deliver…”

  She huffs and then crosses her arms. “I get what you’re saying, but you don’t need to boss me around.”

  “You seemed to like it in Aruba,” I say, which has her head spinning toward me. I probably shouldn’t have brought that up, but my irritation with my lack of control in this situation has me sitting on edge and moodier than normal.