“And you were shocked as you looked out the door and saw it. I remember . . .” I interrupted her story. “You were bundled in purple. You had on a purple hat.”
She just nodded, looking beautiful and maybe a tad bit smug.
I swear Brynne could have pushed me over onto the cobblestones with her pinky finger if she’d wanted—I was that floored by what she’d just told me. Talk about the divine hand of fate. “I saw you step out into the snow and check yourself in the window of my Rover before you walked off.”
“I did.” She brought a hand to her mouth. “I can’t believe that was you . . . and Simba, and we actually spoke to one another, two strangers on Christmas Eve.”
“I can hardly believe we’re having this conversation,” I repeated, the amazement still evident in my voice.
“And it was so, so beautiful when I came out.” She glowed at me as she remembered. “I’ll never forget what it looked like.”
“So I smelled good, huh?”
“Very.” She gave her head a little shake. “I remember thinking whoever got to smell you all the time was a lucky girl.”
“Man, I missed out on months and months of you smelling me. I don’t know if I’m happy about knowing this news or not,” I joked, but really was quite serious. Would’ve been nice to have met before all this mess. Maybe we’d already be married . . .
“Aww, baby, that’s so sweet,” she told me, shaking her head at me like I was crazy but she loved me anyway.
“I love it when you call me baby.”
“I know you do, and that’s why I say it,” she said softly in that gentle way she had. The one that made me insane to possess her and have her splayed out naked underneath me where I could take my time crawling my way up inside her, making her come and come some more, calling out my name—
“What are you thinking about, baby?” she asked, interrupting my inner erotic ravings, just as she should have done.
I told her the honest truth, in a whisper, of course, so nobody else could hear me. “I’m thinking about how many times I can make you come when I get home from work tonight and have you naked, and I’m all over you.”
Brynne didn’t respond to my little speech with words. Instead, her breath hitched as she swallowed hard, making the hollow of her neck and throat move slowly in tandem with the flush that started creeping up to her face. Mouthwatering . . .
The slight breeze made strands of her lovely brown hair dance across her face occasionally, necessitating that she brush it away every so often. Brynne had that certain special something— a joie de vivre that others recognized. When I had her in my view like this, it was hard to ever look away. I knew it was hard for others too. I didn’t like other people noticing her and looking. It was terrifying for me, and I knew why. Their attention made her vulnerable as a target, and that was something utterly unacceptable to me.
My eyes tracked the courtyard out of habit, scanning the patrons of the delicatessen as they came and went. It was a nice day for July, and crowded. The Games were going to turn this place into a mob of ungodly proportions. That worried me too. There were thousands of people coming into London for travel now. More athletes and teams were arriving each day. Thank the bloody gods I didn’t have that load on me. My VIP clients were going to be enough of a crush and a headache.
I was still cautious all the time with Brynne, and I had very good reason to be. Until I knew who’d sent the text to her phone I wasn’t taking any chances. Especially with Neil in the States. He’d be returning on Saturday with what I hoped were some leads on who this motherfucker was. If it led back to Senator Oakley’s camp, then that shit scrape was going down. I knew a few in government, and I would reel in favors if it came down to that. Calling my bluff on a serious threat to Brynne was like poking the rattlesnake with a stick. I was prepared for whatever I had to do in order to protect her.
“Are you finished?” I asked, noticing she’d stopped taking bites of her sandwich.
“I am. It’s baby steps right now.” She laid her palm on her stomach. “Literally.”
“I know, but you have to eat. Dr. Banana Probe said so. I heard him clearly and he is the absolute authority on these things.” I gave her an arch of the brows.
“Well I’m pretty confident that the good doctor would avoid food too if he spent as much time as I do hung over a toilet, puking his guts out after eating some.”
“You poor thing—and you have a very good point, my beauty.” I leaned in to kiss her lips. “What have I done to you?”
She scoffed and kissed me back. “I think that’s fairly obvious, considering where we just spent the last hour.”
“But the medicine helps, right?” I brushed her cheek, keeping our faces close. I really fucking hated seeing my girl suffer.
She nodded. “Yes. It works miracles.” She stood up to go throw away her sandwich wrapper in the bin. Even that small feat garnered attention from those in the immediate vicinity. I spotted at least three men who eyed her and one woman. No wonder photographers wanted her for their pictures. Damn the cocksuckers.
Brynne was oblivious to every bit of it, which just made her more of a rarity.
We stepped into Fountaine’s Aquarium and grinned at each other when we crossed the threshold, both remembering the day we’d spoken as strangers and fate had a say about a few things. The shop was busy and we had to wait in the queue until another attendant came up front to help.
Beside us stood a woman wearing her child in a backpack sort of sling contraption. I remember Hannah using a similar device for Zara when she was a baby. Except this child was not happy about it. Not even a little. I felt quite sure that if the little bloke could’ve spoken, the air in the shop would’ve been tinged blue with fuck yous and bugger offs. He screamed and kicked, trying to worm his way out. The mother of this creature just ignored it as if there was nothing untoward about a wailing and writhing mini-human on her back screeching loud enough to shatter the window glass.
I took a glance at Brynne and got wide eyes from her. Was she thinking what I was thinking? Will our baby do this? Oh, please, God, no.
We moved up in the queue, with only one more in front to wait through when the red-faced minion with the full-sized lungs really started working it. I thought my head was going to explode. The woman backed up, effectively shoving the little demon right up in my face. The shop was so close I got cornered up against the counter with nowhere to go. I reared my head back as far as I could, thinking maybe calling the shop to schedule would have been the best idea.
Brynne was trying very hard not to laugh at me when the situation deteriorated even further, which I didn’t imagine to be possible. Oh, it was very possible. The creature let loose with a bum blower less than a foot from me. Not only did it possess the power to peel paint off walls, but it sounded very wet, which affirmed it couldn’t have been merely an arse cruncher for him. That tyke was squirming in a load of shit to which I was far too close right now. The mother turned ’round and gave me a glare as if I’d done it. Fucking hell, get me out!
Brynne was shaking beside me with her hand over her mouth, when the clerk asked what he could do for me. I tried not to leap over the counter and beg him for an oxygen mask. I don’t know quite how I transacted my business with the screaming and the revolting odor, and then Brynne rushing for the door saying she’d wait outside. Yeah, get out, baby, before you asphyxiate. Run, and don’t look back! Smart girl I’ve got, no secrets there.
When I managed to escape the shop, Brynne was on the sidewalk watching the foot traffic. She saw me and burst into giggles. I dragged a hand through my hair and sucked in a huge breath of air. Clean fresh, pure, London air. Well, maybe not pure, but at least my eyes weren’t watering anymore. Or maybe they were—my vision was blurry and I craved a smoke.
“Are you okay?” I asked her, wondering if that offensive back in the shop had made her
puke.
“Are you?” she laughed up at me.
“Fuck me into next week. By all that’s holy, that was frightening! Tell me that was an incarnation of Satan back there!” I nodded. “Am I right?”
Still laughing, she put her arm through mine and started walking us to the car.
“Poor Ethan got a load of smelly baby,” she giggled.
“Okay, that was not a smelly baby!” More like really fucking effective birth control. “Good God, I don’t think there are adequate words to describe what that was.”
“Aww, you’re scared.” She made a face of fake concern.
“Fuck yes, I’m scared. Why aren’t you?”
Brynne laughed harder.
“Please tell me our little blueberry will never behave like that.”
Shaking with laughter now, she reached up to kiss me, and told me how much she loved me again. “I think I need a picture of this, baby. Smile for me.”
She took out her mobile and snapped a photo, still laughing in her beautiful way that reminded me what a gift I’d been given when she decided to love me back.
12
♥ Dr. Roswell’s beautiful turquoise fountain pen made the nicest sound in her notebook as she made her notes.
“So the university cannot really alter the program for me. I’ll still have to do the conserving practicum at some point. But they were happy to give me a leave of absence from the Rothvale and have approved my substituting in some research work.”
“And how do you feel about that?” I knew she was going to ask me that.
“Um . . . I’m disappointed, of course, but don’t have a choice about it.” I shrugged. “It’s weird, but even though I am scared to death about having a baby, I’m more afraid of doing something that might hurt my baby.”
Dr. Roswell smiled at me. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother, Brynne.”
Well, that remains to be seen. “I have no idea how to be a mom or how I got into this situation.” I held my hands up. “I don’t even recognize my life compared with what it was two months ago. I don’t know if I’ll be able to ever get the kind of job I’ve trained for all these years. There’s a lot I don’t know.”
“That’s very true, but I can assure you that it’s true for everyone, everywhere.”
I pondered her very wise and eloquent statement. The woman could say so much with such few words. How could any of us predict the future or know what we could or would be doing? It’s impossible to know. “Yeah, I suppose,” I said finally.
“And Ethan? You haven’t said much about what he wants.”
I thought about him and what he might be doing right now. Working hard to keep all those celebrities safe at the Olympics, barking orders in meetings, on conference calls barking more orders, and stressing. I worried about him even though he wouldn’t hear word one from me about it. He just spread himself a little thinner and never complained. But his nightmares keep coming, don’t they?
“Ahh, Ethan is very matter-of-fact about this. He never showed me anything but support from the first moment. He didn’t seemed scared or trapped or . . . anything like that. I’ll be honest, I expected him to feel that way. We haven’t known each other that long, and most men would want to run hard and fast in the other direction when faced with an unplanned pregnancy, but not him.” I shook my head at her. “He was adamant we not terminate. He said he couldn’t do it. That me and our baby are his priority now.”
She smiled again. “He sounds like he’s thrilled, and that must give you some feelings of security.”
“It does. He wants to get married as soon as we can organize it after the Olympics are finished. He really wants an announcement to go out about an engagement.” I looked down at my lap. “I’ve been holding off on that part, and he’s not happy with me about it.”
She wrote something down and asked her next question without looking up. “Why do you think you are resistant to an engagement announcement?”
“Oh, God . . . I don’t know. The only way I can describe it is a feeling of helplessness, a lack of control in my life. It’s like I’m being swept along in a current. I’m not struggling to keep afloat or in danger of drowning, but I cannot get out of it. The current pulls me along and takes me places I never thought I would go.” I started to feel a little emotional and wished I hadn’t said anything to her, but it was too late. The confessions were starting to pour out of me now. “I can’t go back to the beginning. I can only go forward, whether I want to or not.”
“Do you want to get out?” Dr. Roswell offered up options, just like I knew she would. “Because you don’t have to have a baby, or get engaged, or married, or any of it. You know that, Brynne.”
I shook my head, looking down at my belly. I thought about what we had created and felt guilty for even voicing my worries. “I don’t want to get out. I love Ethan. He tells me he loves me all the time. And I need him . . . now.”
“Brynne, do you realize what you just said?”
I looked up into her smiling eyes and knew I was going to spill the rest.
“I need Ethan. I need him for everything. I need him in order to be happy, and to be the father of this baby we made, and to love me and care for me . . .” My voice trailed off to a whimper that sounded so pathetic I loathed myself in that moment.
Dr. Roswell spoke so softly: “That’s very scary, isn’t it?”
The tears started coming and I reached for a tissue. “Yeah,” I sobbed, taking a moment to get the next part out, “I need him so badly . . . and it makes me utterly vulnerable . . . and what will I do if some day he decides he doesn’t want me anymore?”
“It’s called trust, Brynne, and it is by far the hardest gift to give away.”
She was right about that.
♥ Dinner alone pretty much sucked. I wouldn’t complain to Ethan, though. I understood how busy he was at work and there had been lots of evening events for him lately. I cleaned up from my vegetable soup and French bread dinner, which so far was staying put in my stomach. Thank God for the anti-nausea medication or I was sure I’d be dead by then. The vomiting seemed to be behind me for the most part, if I kept to very simple food and took the meds regularly. Both Freddy and Dr. Burnsley said I had something called hyperemesis gravidarum, or in plain English, severe morning sickness. In my case it started as evening sickness and serious dehydration, and could eventually cause malnutrition if left untreated. Lovely. So suffice it to say, I was trying my best to eat.
I’d gotten a text from Ethan about an hour earlier telling me he would be home late and eating dinner at his office. I understood, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. The Olympics were huge and it was exciting as the buildup to the opening ceremonies grew. I really did understand the demands Ethan was under at work, and it made me feel better to know that he hated it as much as I did, if not more. He told me all the time how much he wished he could just stay in for one of my home-cooked dinners and cuddle in front of the television together and have sex for dessert.
Yeah, me too.
I was a wreck emotionally and I knew it. I was lonely, and hormonal, and far too needy at the moment. I hated feeling needy.
I looked longingly over at the Miele coffeemaker, which had to be worth more than my boot collection, and sulked as I wiped down the granite worktop. No good coffee for the next seven months was gonna suck about as much as the lonely dinner did tonight. I didn’t do decaf and figured torturing myself with only one cup a day wasn’t worth the hassle.
I was finding my inner Zen and gaining a close personal relationship with herbal teas instead. Raspberry and Tangerine Zinger had been pleasant surprises, I must admit. I made a cup of the Raspberry Zinger and called Benny.
“Hello, my lovely darling.”
“I miss you. What are you up to tonight?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound too pathetic.
“Ricardo’s here and we’re just done with dinner.”
“Ahhh, well, why did you even answer the phone? You’re otherwise busy. Sorry for interrupting, I just wanted to give you a drive-by love blast.”
“No, no, no, my sweet. Not so fast. What is going on with you?” Ben was without a doubt the most emotionally intuitive man on the planet. He could sniff out the smallest innuendo and go wild with possible scenarios. I’d seen him in action enough to know.
“Nothing is going on with me,” I lied. “You’re busy and have company. Call me tomorrow, okay?”
“No. Ricardo’s sorting out some work business on a call of his own. Start talking.”
I sighed into the phone. Why did I call Ben again?
“I’m waiting, darling. What is going on with you?”
“Ben, I’m fine. Everything is good. I’ve moved in with Ethan and he’s very swamped with work and the Games coming. I’m just doing my thing.”
“So you’re alone tonight?” Ben was going to ask me for details, one after the other. I am so dumb sometimes.
“Yes. He’s so busy right now with organization meetings.”
“Why on earth didn’t you call me? I’d have taken you out for a spin.”
“No, you have plans with the fantastically handsome Ricardo, remember? I’ve not felt like going out for a spin the last days anyway.”
“You’re not feeling well?”
Fuck. “No, Ben, really I’m good. I was just home alone and missing my friend and wanted to hear your voice is all. We haven’t talked since the boot photos you took.”
“Oh, God, they’re gorgeous. I’ll send you some of the proofs on email.”
“I can’t wait to see them.” I couldn’t wait, but Ethan sure could. He was still voicing his displeasure at my modeling, but I wasn’t budging on the issue. Especially now. If I couldn’t work at the Rothvale on the paintings, then I sure as hell was going to have plenty of time for my other job of modeling. At least now, before my body got big. I hoped to even do some pregnancy-themed shots. It was something that crossed my mind, even if I couldn’t share my news with anyone. Ben didn’t know anything yet, and neither did Gaby.