by Harlow James
He squeezes my shoulder. “You’re welcome, Chloe. This is the start of the rest of our lives. Everything is changing, but we can tackle it together if you let us.”
“I’m trying.”
“By the way, I got you something.” His legs lead him over to the nightstand by my bed, where he picks up a rather thick book.
“What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” I mutter out loud. “What is this?”
“What does it look like? A book about pregnancy and giving birth.”
“That’s a big book.”
“Well, there’s a lot to know. I figure with all of the time you’ll have, you can read this and be more prepared for what’s to come.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I say reluctantly. It’s not that I don’t think I should read it. It’s that reading it makes this all too real. And I’m not naïve. I know this is real, that this baby is coming sooner rather than later. But something is still holding me back from letting my brain catch up to my heart.
Maybe it’s how you’re feeling about your baby’s daddy.
“Alright. Well, good night, Chloe.”
“Goodnight, Silas.”
I watch him retreat from my room and shut the door behind him. After a nice warm shower, I put on loose, silky pajamas and then climb into bed.
“What the ever-loving dream cloud is this? This isn’t my mattress,” I groan as I sink into the feathery goodness beneath me. As if he couldn’t make me swoon even harder, the man bought me a new mattress and had my bed made without my knowledge, probably because he knew I would fight him on it.
And I will. Tomorrow. Because right now, my body is being a treacherous bitch and loving every second of bliss coming from the surface I’m lying on, causing me to drift off into an exquisite sleep where my baby daddy does wicked things to my body with his body that I now have to stare at on a daily basis.
Chapter 6
Silas
I glide my hand over the wood, smoothing the grain, preparing it for stain while classic rock music blares from the speakers. Out in my shop is the only place where I allow myself to think or relax because when I’m working, I have to be on all the time. There’s no room for letting personal matters cloud my mind—so that’s what my shop time is for.
And tonight, as I sand the pieces of wood I just cut in preparation for my next piece, my mind is wandering aimlessly.
Chloe is officially living with me—an idea that I know will pay off in the future in terms of being a father to my kid—but I don’t think I thought the entire thing through.
Last night when I came down from my shower and saw her sitting on my couch, shoving buffalo wings into her mouth, I realized that inviting her here meant sharing space with her, my life—and that’s not something I do with just anyone. And it’s not like she’s just a roommate. No. She’s carrying my baby and an incredibly sexy woman who is now in close proximity, making her even more of a temptation.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” I mutter to myself before glancing at the clock and taking note of the time. Usually I’ll set a timer on my phone to make sure I’m not out here until one in the morning since that’s happened a few times before. But tonight I just felt the need to get lost in cutting and sanding slabs of wood that will eventually become something meaningful in a few months.
As I stare at my sketch and then move to clean up, I think about how proud Nonno would be of this piece. He’s the man that taught me everything I know about working with wood, and when Nonna offered his equipment to me after he passed, it took less than five seconds for me to decide to take it. Being out here in my shop, getting lost in creating something, not only helps me process my life but it allows me to feel close to him again, since this was something he intently taught me once my dad fully took over the company and he had the time to do so. I guess my dad knew how to construct things too, but the pressure of running the company didn’t leave much time for the hobby.
Now that I’m in charge, I use this as a stress reliever and a creative outlet, something that’s only for me. And that’s exactly how it has to stay even though Chloe is living with me now. She may be in my home, but I can’t let her completely into my life. I have to maintain some boundaries—it’s what I do. It’s how I refrain from getting hurt.
And Chloe has the ability to be the train that wrecks me if I give her the chance.
* * *
Why on earth do they make shorts that short? And why does Chloe have to wear them in front of me?
I’m currently mesmerized by her heart-shaped ass in my kitchen as I watch her pour her coffee. She insisted on doing some things for herself during this doctor ordered limited activity—not bed rest as I stand corrected—even though I was fully intent on waiting on her hand and foot when I’m home. However, I got a phone call that pulled me away for a moment, and when I returned to her room, she’d already left and made her way out to the kitchen.
“Good morning.”
“Holy shit!” Chloe spins to face me with a hand over her heart, her curls fanning out around her as she turns. “You almost gave me a heart attack, Silas!”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting some pointless decaffeinated coffee and desperately attempting not to piss myself right now. What are you doing?” Her green eyes are wide and her hair is a wilder mess than usual. She’s beautiful even this early in the morning, a detail that keeps becoming more apparent to me now that she’s in my home—a detail that I should be ignoring, but am failing miserably at doing so.
I’m headed back into my office today after being here with Chloe for the past four days, and by the way I keep imagining pinning her up against a wall and kissing her breathless, I’m fairly certain it’s a good thing I’ll be getting some space from the woman finally.
“You need to sit down,” I declare, hoping she senses how serious I am about her resting. I’m nervous now that she’ll be home alone that she’s not going to take this seriously. I might just have to make Valentina come and check on her, although they haven’t officially met yet, so I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I bet I could get Shayla to do it. She was here this weekend helping Chloe unpack, but we didn’t cross paths too much. However, I know that she seems to think us living together was the right decision and I know Chloe will listen to her. I make a mental note to call her later.
“I was on my way to the couch before you scared the shit out of me.” She grabs her cup, lifts her chin in the air, and steps around me, heading for the couch and tucking one of her legs underneath her as she takes a seat. “So, happy to go back to work today?”
“I never really stopped working, but yes, being in my office and on site makes some things much easier to accomplish.”
“The restaurant in Goleta?”
I nod. “Yup. The inside is almost complete, which means the fun truly begins now.”
“Fun?” She brings her cup to her lips and blows on the liquid, but all I focus on is the purse of her lips, those lips that looked forbidden, yet right wrapped around my cock.
Focus, Silas.
“Hiring management, setting up supplier orders, making sure our company policies are being followed…”
“Sounds like a lot of work.” She smiles at me while tilting her head.
“It is, but I honestly love it. This business has been around since 1950, when my grandfather opened the first restaurant in San Diego. And it has grown astronomically since then. Not many people can boast that a family owned and operated business has turned into a billion-dollar company.”
“That is true. So do you run it with your dad now?” she asks, and my heart skips a beat. Chloe doesn’t know about my parents, and I guess this could be the time to tell her. She’s going to find out eventually, especially when I take her to meet Nonna and my sisters.
But I just can’t yet. I don’t want her sympathy. I can’t show her that part of me right now, especially when I have to leave soon. “Uh, my dad isn’t really around,” I reply as
my pulse pounds on the side of my neck.
“Oh. I’m…I’m sorry, Silas.”
“Yeah, well…what are you gonna do?” I shrug and then stand, eager to get out of the same space as her and away from this conversation. “I’m going to finish getting ready.”
“Okay. I’ll just be here.” She takes a sip of her coffee while watching me, and I know my gaze on her lingers too long. But something about this woman draws me to her, and I’m struggling with how and why.
* * *
“The fourth month of pregnancy: Entering month four of growing your baby can either offer reprieve from first trimester symptoms, or in some cases, those symptoms can worsen.”
I flip my blinker on to turn right at the signal up ahead.
“Some of these symptoms can include nausea and vomiting, gas and constipation, and heartburn.”
“Well, Chloe is already dealing with most of that, I know, but I’ll be damned if I ask her about gas and constipation,” I mutter as the audiobook continues to play over the speakers.
It’s a Saturday and I’m on my way to meet the guys for our monthly golf game. I haven’t made the last two, so I’m going today both out of guilt and because it’s been a while since I’ve seen my friends. The last time I saw them I found out I was going to be a dad, so there is a shit ton to catch up on.
But it’s been approximately three weeks since Chloe has moved in with me, and life is getting more crazy by the day. With my schedule and the opening of the restaurant inching closer, I resorted to an audiobook of What to Expect When You’re Expecting so that I can fulfill my responsibility as the dad to be, hoping that Chloe will read the book too and then we can make some decisions together.
The new medication the doctor gave her seems to be helping with her nausea and dizziness, but she’s still having good and bad days. She seems to be sleeping a lot lately too, which apparently is very common in the first trimester, even though Chloe is now entering her second. We have an appointment in a little over a month to find out the gender, and I haven’t even asked her if she wants to know. But I need to know. I need to know what’s coming and what to plan for, and there are so many choices still to be made once we know if we’re having a boy or girl.
The thought of waiting right now has my heart rate spiking instantly.
I pull into the parking lot of the country club, sliding into a parking spot but not turning off my ignition so the book can continue to play, but my phone starts ringing and my assistant’s name starts flashing across the screen.
“Hello, Erica.”
“Would you like to know what I’m doing right now, Silas?” She’s breathing heavily and I’m not sure why.
“Uh, sure.”
“I’m walking four dogs at the moment.”
I launch forward in my seat. “What? Why?”
“Oh, because the little temp you hired to fill in for Chloe while she’s on limited activity decided she didn’t want to do this job anymore, and Chloe’s clients showed up at the office this morning to drop off their dogs per the schedule.”
My mouth falls open. “Seriously? What the fuck?”
“I know! I swear, Silas, you’d better give me a bonus for this crap. Do you realize how many times a dog stops to piss while on a walk?”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Why are you walking them? You could have just…”
“Let them run around the office? Hell, no! Plus, the owners would know, I’m sure. The one they call Sir Frances is a pretentious little bitch. I’d be surprised if he didn’t squeal on me.”
“You realize you’re suggesting that dogs can talk, right?”
“Yup, which surely confirms that I’m going insane.”
Leaning back in my seat again, I watch a golf cart drive by. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it worth your while. Chloe has an appointment this week, and hopefully she’ll be able to resume walking on a limited basis. If not, she’s going to need to hire someone herself.”
“She’d better be cleared, Silas, because I cannot do this. I shouldn’t have even been in the office this morning, but the menus for the Goleta location were delivered, and I didn’t want them sitting in the mailbox.”
“I appreciate that, Erica. But you know, if you were looking to make some extra money, I’m sure Chloe and you could work out a deal.” I bite my lip to keep myself from laughing at her expense.
“You’re lucky you’re my boss, or I’d be hanging up on you right now.”
Letting the laughter break free, I slide my hand through my hair and peek in the rearview mirror just in time to see Hayes and Wes pull into the spot beside me. “Okay, well, thank you for being the best assistant ever. I will make sure to compensate you accordingly.”
“That’s all I’m asking. Have a good day.”
I end the call with Erica over the Bluetooth speaker, and my book switches back on just as Hayes pulls open my door.
“To help, try a perineal massage to stretch and loosen the muscles around the vaginal opening…”
Hayes stares down at me baffled with a curl in his lip. “What the fuck? Are you getting a sex-ed lesson on audio tape?”
“Plenty of sexual activity can also help prepare the vaginal canal for birth.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, reaching for the volume knob to turn it down, cursing the fact that he had to open the door at that exact fucking second. “No, fucker. It’s a book about pregnancy.”
“But you’re not the one who’s pregnant, Silas. Or…is there something you want to tell us?” He smirks as Wes crosses his arms beside him.
“What’s going on?”
“Silas is learning about another type of hole today,” Hayes replies, grinning from ear to ear. “Perhaps he can share his knowledge with us during our eighteen holes. I could always learn a few new ways to please my woman.”
Wes twists to look at him. “Why can’t you fucking remember that I don’t want you saying shit like that around me about my sister?”
He playfully smacks his head. “Oops, sorry. I forgot.” Wes huffs and turns to walk away as Hayes leans closer to me still sitting in my car and whispers, “No, I didn’t. I love making him uncomfortable. That vein in his forehead pops.” He winks and I just shake my head at him. Sometimes I wonder how the man grew up enough to save his marriage to Waverly.
I cut the ignition and stand from my car, making sure to grab my phone before I lock it up, and then it hits me—the panic.
“Are you ready?” Hayes asks, watching me stare at my phone in my hands.
“Uh, almost. Just gotta send out a few texts.”
He rolls his eyes, but relents. “I know, man. I know. It’s your…thing. Just make it quick, alright? And then shut it off. You know the rules.” He questions me with his gaze, and I simply nod before he walks back over to Wes, who’s checking out our golf cart right now.
I type out the customary texts I do each time I have to turn my phone off.
One to Valentina, one to Bianca, one to Mia, and one to Nonna, letting them know I’m off the grid, but if they need me to call my assistant and she can get through to me on the burner phone I keep for instances like these.
Hayes doesn’t know that, and neither does Wes, but the idea of something happening and me not being informed about it makes my skin crawl and my stomach flip.
I copy and paste the message and send it off, but then my eyes find Chloe’s name in my text message app. Without thinking, my thumb presses on it to open up the thread, and then I’m typing out a message.
Me: Chloe, I’m going to be silencing my phone during golf. I forgot to tell you that before I left. If you need me, call me directly at (909)-685-4790 and I’ll answer in case of emergency. Please be careful until you hear from me again.
With a deep breath to calm my anxiety, I turn off my phone and shove it in my pocket, striding toward my best friends for a day of relaxation and catching up. I know this time is important to keep, and will probably be even more limited once the baby comes, but it always put
s me on edge at first—the idea that in a moment everything can change and I might not be there when my family needs me.
And now that circle of people has grown to include Chloe and my child—two people that will always need to come first. The pressure in my chest mounts, the adrenaline in my veins spikes, and all of the fears of why I’ve avoided relationships come crashing to a head as I realize that this all-encompassing fear is what I’ve always evaded, and now there’s no turning back from it.
I now have two more people I could lose, and that’s exactly what I was afraid of.
* * *
“So, how’s it going with Chloe living there?” Hayes asks as he lines up his next shot. With ease, he swings and propels the ball down the course, watching it sail through the air.
“It’s uh…going fine.”
“Uh oh. He used the f-word, Wes.”
“Fine?” Wes asks for clarification.
I exhale and run my hand through my hair, wiping sweat from my brow in the process. I forgot my visor and now I’m paying the price. “It’s fucking weird, but also kind of nice knowing there’s someone there when I get home.”
“I felt the same way about Waverly when she first moved in,” Hayes replies.
“Yeah? I mean, we don’t really speak much besides, about how she’s feeling because she’s either sleeping or I’m working, but so far so good.”
“That will get better. It’s like, you didn’t realize how big and quiet your house was without that other person inside.” I nod in agreement. “So have you two boned yet?”
I cough, instantly choking on my spit. “What? No!”
“Why not?” Wes says, which has me twisting my head to the side.
“What? Why would I?”
