The Freeman Brothers: A Secret Baby Romance Collection

by Natasha L. Black

  “She didn’t say anything. I don’t know what she could have meant. But here’s what you need to ask yourself. Why does it bother you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have been saying all along you don’t even want to consider a relationship. You’re not ready. You don’t want to settle down. Blah blah. Every other nice way guys say they don’t want to be tied down. If that was really the case, why would it matter to you if she thought she was a burden to you? If you were never considering being with her, it’s a moot point, right?” she asked.

  I leaned back against the chair cushion behind me and thought about that for a few seconds. I had no idea how to answer it.

  25

  Bryn

  I woke up Thursday morning to a knock on my front door. One eye popped open, and I looked around. It definitely didn’t seem late enough in the day for anybody to be showing up at my house. Come to think of it, no matter what time of day it was, I couldn’t really imagine anybody who would just show up at my house.

  I let out a sigh and shoved the blankets off with me. Anybody but Nick. After our awkward encounter outside his office building, I had been waiting for some sort of reaction from him. Going over there with the bridal magazine wasn’t the most thought-out plan I’d ever had in my life. When it showed up at my front door, I had no idea what I was supposed to do.

  The cute little note attached to the front of the magazine made it very clear his mother was behind the delivery. There was no explanation. No reasoning behind her sending the massive tome of frothy wedding dresses and impossible-to-construct cakes to my house. Also, no explanation behind how she got my home address. But, honestly, that was the least of my concerns.

  Within seconds of getting the magazine, I was in my car and headed to Nick. This was something I needed to end. I needed to nip it in the bud before Minnie got any more of the wrong idea than she already did. I had no idea what I was going to say to Nick when he came out. And when the snarky comment about him not wanting to burden himself with me came tumbling out of my mouth, I wished I had paid better attention to my high school English teacher. He always said preparation was key.

  The thing was, as soon as I said it, I was almost glad I did. It was petty and childish, but I wanted to make a point. And I wanted him to hear it. I also wanted to know his reaction. When I heard it, I was shocked. And confused. What did he mean I didn’t want anything more than one night? How was that even a logical response?

  The knock on my door told me he had finally figured out what he wanted to say and had come to my house to let it all out. Maybe I should have put some clothes on or run a brush through my hair, but frankly, I wasn’t feeling like it. He was going to be seeing a whole lot of the very real, all-natural me in the next eighteen years or so, and I figured it might as well start now. It wasn’t like seducing him again was an option.

  To prevent my mother from completely somersaulting herself out of her grave because I showed off my clingy cotton pajamas to the whole neighborhood, I threw on a thin bathrobe before heading to the door. I tried to prepare myself for anything Nick was going to say. And right after that, for telling him about the baby.

  Now was as good a time as any. Emotions were already going to be high. Things were already going to be uncomfortable. There was no point in letting all that priming work go to waste when we could just get everything out in the open and over with in one fell swoop. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it would be so much better once it was over. All I had to do was open the door and face… a box of cake samples.

  Sigh.

  I leaned down and picked up the box from the local bakery. This wasn’t the cute little corner place where I ate cookies with Minnie. It wasn’t where people would go for a quick croissant or a muffin when they were craving something sweet but wanted to sound like they were being healthy. This was the exorbitantly expensive, painfully trendy bakery that specialized in wedding desserts.

  Setting the box down on my coffee table, I opened it up and looked inside. A dozen little squares of cake were arranged perfectly inside. The gold envelope tied to the top with a satin ribbon contained a handwritten description of each of the samples. It looked like the baker had included several different combinations of cake, fillings, and icings. I could only imagine they were specifically chosen by Minnie.

  It was one of those great days when I woke up without feeling sick, and I did have a growing baby to support, so I popped one of the tiny cakes into my mouth. I had every intention of enjoying each and every one of them. But I wasn’t going to be paying attention to what they were, and I most certainly wouldn’t be making any selections.

  The next morning, another knock woke me up. Just like the day before, by the time I got to the front door, whoever delivered the package was nowhere to be seen. And sitting in the middle of my porch was a box of wedding invitation samples. The next day changed things up. Nothing woke me up, but I was on a call with a new client when a thick book of fabric swatches and hors d’oeuvres samples from four different caterers appeared.

  I would have been amused by Minnie’s kamikaze campaign if it wasn’t so incredibly inconvenient. I didn’t even know how she was pulling it off, but I was officially at my wit's end. My conversation with Nick evidently didn’t have any effect. Either that, or he had relayed my message and she’d just decided to ignore it.

  That meant I needed to take matters into my own hands. I really liked Minnie, but this couldn’t keep going on. She needed to understand the situation. I could appreciate that she had three sons happy and settled that she just wanted to see the fourth follow suit. But she needed to realize I wasn’t going to be the solution. She couldn’t just keep planning until she convinced us we were engaged.

  I waited until I figured there wouldn’t be a huge number of people at the compound. The crowd during the employee picnic was fairly large, but I assumed many of them were family members of the people who actually worked there. That cut it down, but I wanted as few people as possible. My goal was to confront Minnie, not make an absolute spectacle out of myself.

  When I got to the Freeman Racing compounds, I told the guard at the gate I was there to see Minnie. He didn’t seem completely convinced until I mentioned my name. Then he smiled and let me on through. That shouldn’t have really surprised me. Of course she would have added me to the list. It was probably only a matter of time before she went ahead and changed my last name to Freeman.

  With that thought in my head, I had the compulsion to reach into my purse and take a quick glimpse at my driver’s license. I might have been gradually tipping over the edge into conspiracy theory territory now, but after everything I’d witnessed, I wasn’t going to put anything past this woman. She seemed like the kind of person who got what she wanted, when she wanted it.

  The receptionist directed me to the kitchen at the back of the main building. When I got there, I found Minnie in there alone, pulling a sheet tray of caramelized onion tarts out of the oven. They smelled heavenly, and I wanted to just tip the entire tray right into my mouth. This was the dichotomy of my life now. Either I was sick and woozy, or famished beyond reason. Very little middle ground happening.

  She was sliding the tray onto a trivet on the island when she glanced up and noticed me. Her eyes lit up, and she gave a wide smile. Partially to stop her from saying anything, and partially to control myself around the onion tarts, I held up a hand and shook my head.

  “Listen, I applaud your stubbornness and perseverance. But I don’t imagine your son wants to date me, never mind marry me. There’s a lot going on here. He’s a really amazing person, and he’s doing something incredible for me to help me drag myself out of an awful situation. There’s just too much going on and too much that has already happened and it’s just… too much. I haven’t even told him I’m pregnant yet.”

  I slapped my hand over my mouth, but the damage was already done. I couldn’t gather up the words and shove them back into my mouth no matter how much I wished I
could. They were out there in the world now.

  “Bryn?”

  Oh, no. My head dropped and hung down, shaking slowly back and forth at the sound of the voice. Of course. Of course Minnie wasn’t the only one to hear that. It couldn’t be that easy.

  I turned around and there was Nick. And all three of his brothers. Sinking down into the nearest chair, I dropped my head in my hands and let out a breath.

  26

  Nick

  “Could everybody give Bryn and me a minute of privacy, please?” I asked.

  My brothers hesitated, lingering as they shifted slowly toward the door like I wouldn’t notice they were still there. Their eyes were locked on Bryn. I turned sharply to look at them.

  “Get out,” I snapped.

  “Alright, boys,” Mom said. “Why don’t you go ahead and get back to work? Let these two have a talk. I’ll get some of these tarts to you in just a bit.”

  She gestured at them, trying to brush them out of the room from a distance. I glared at her, and she dropped the spatula she was holding, putting her hands up in the air in surrender. Moving quickly, she tugged a platter closer to her on the counter and piled several of the onion tarts she had just baked from the pan onto it. They had to still be hot as fire, but after years of self-therapy through baking, she had fingertips of steel.

  Grabbing the platter of tarts and a handful of napkins, she scurried toward the door that led out into the hallway. She paused in front of Bryn and held the platter out to her. “Onion tart?”

  “Mom,” I said.

  She jumped. “Sorry. I’ll just—” She draped a napkin on the chair beside Bryn and set three of the little tarts onto it. “There you go.” She looked at the napkin in contemplation, then added one more tart.

  “Mom.”

  “I’m going.”

  She rushed out of the kitchen and eased the door closed behind her. When I was sure none of them were going to wander back in, I let out a long breath and walked over to Bryn. She was still sitting with her head in her hands, rocking back and forth slowly. I sat down in the chair in front of her and reached out to touch her but pulled my hand back before I did.

  I didn’t know how to even start, so I just asked outright. “You’re pregnant?”

  That was enough to make Bryn lift her head. She nodded, looking slightly off to the side rather than directly at me.

  “Yep,” she said. “I am.”

  “When did you find out?” I asked.

  “Just a few days ago,” she said.

  She sounded so defeated, like everything had been drained out of her. I didn’t know what to say to make her feel better. Or even if there was something that could make her feel better.

  “I’ll talk to my mom,” I said. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to her before. About the whole bridal magazine thing. I figured that was just a one-time saying that she did, that she would get the message when you didn’t respond. I had no idea she was being so pushy and insensitive.”

  Bryn nodded, her head dropping again. I reached over and tucked my finger under her chin, gently lifting her face.

  “We need to talk about all this,” she said softly.

  “Yeah, we do,” I said. “But not here.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I really didn’t mean to come here and just blurt it out to your mother. I just came to ask her to stop sending wedding stuff to my house. That’s all. But it just kind of fell out when I was talking to her.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t need to apologize. I just think we would both be more comfortable if we weren’t talking about this here. If we knew we could really be alone.”

  “That sounds good,” she said.

  “Okay, good. Let me take you to my house. We can sit down, get something to eat, and just talk,” I said. “You should be relaxing.”

  She let out a dry, mirthless laugh. “I’m pregnant, not dying.”

  “It would make me feel better,” I said.

  Bryn managed a weak smile but nodded. “Alright.”

  “Good. Come on.”

  I stood and reached for her hands. She looked at them for a beat, then lifted her eyes to me before resting her fingertips on mine. I helped her to her feet and resisted the urge to gather her up against me. She was so close, so beautiful, and all I wanted to do was hold her.

  Part of me was expecting to walk out of the kitchen and find my family hovering there pretending to be totally casual. But we managed to get down the hall into the lobby without running into any of them.

  “If my parents or any of my brothers ask about me, let them know I’m gone for the day,” I told the receptionist.

  She nodded, and Bryn and I headed outside. Her car was parked close to mine, but I didn’t want her driving. Not that being pregnant spontaneously diminished her ability to operate a vehicle. She was just so upset and distracted, I felt better having her stay close to me.

  We didn’t talk through the drive. Instead, I spent the time trying to figure out how I felt about the whole situation. No matter how hard I tried to make them, my feelings for Bryn had never gone away. If anything, they had only gotten stronger.

  My talk with Lindsey the other night had had a major effect on me. She wasn’t pushy and hadn’t tried to force anything on me, but it had seemed so clear to her. And she wanted to make me think about it the way I should have all along.

  If someone asked me point-blank if I was ready to settle down and see myself in a firm, permanent commitment, I would say no. The reality, however, was that would probably always be my response. There would always be something that would make me say I wasn’t ready, just the way there was something that made most people question if they were ready for marriage or children.

  There were always going to be those moments of hesitation. But when Lindsey confronted me about Bryn, I realized the hesitation was all about me. Not her. It was wondering if I was good enough. Did I have what it took to be a good boyfriend? A good husband? Would I be able to take care of her in every way she needed? Would I pay enough attention to her? Too much attention to her? Would I make her happy? Years from now, would she wonder if she had made a mistake in choosing me?

  It was all so much to think about, but the more I did, the more I realized how strong my feelings for Bryn were. Never in my life had I felt that way about any woman. No one had fascinated me the way she did. No one had challenged me and tempted me the way she did. I could envision myself with her in a way I never thought I would be able to envision myself with anyone.

  But now there was a whole new level to it. As I drove toward my house, I tried to piece it all together. I delved deep into my thoughts and emotions, trying to figure out how I felt about all of it. But I was just confused.

  When we got to my house, I brought Bryn inside and settled her down in the living room. Once her shoes were off and she was reclined back against the arm of the sofa, her legs stretched out in front of her and a pillow propped behind her back, I went into the kitchen. I poured a glass of juice and emptied a sleeve of crackers onto a plate. Carrying them back into the living room with me, I set them on the table in front of her.

  “I don’t really have any memories of my mother being pregnant with Darren except for when she had a big, round belly and I couldn’t sit on her lap anymore. But I spent a lot of time with Lindsey when she was carrying Remy. I was the only person other than his father and his family she told, so I was with her as much as I could be, so she didn’t have to be alone.”

  “Did she have a hard pregnancy?” Bryn asked.

  “Not really,” I said, sitting down on the end of the couch near her feet. “She had a fairly easy go of it as far as pregnancies go, I think. But early on she was queasy. Something I remember her telling me was that drinking water actually made her feel worse.”

  She looked at me strangely. “My doctor went on and on about making sure I stayed hydrated and how that would help me feel better.”

  “Yep. Hers told her the same thing. Apparentl
y, she kept trying to do that, and every time she drank a bunch of water, or drank water first thing in the morning, it made her feel sick. So, she talked to a midwife who told her to drink juice instead. She did and it fixed her right up.”

  Bryn looked at the glass in her hands. “Thank you.”

  I nodded. We sat in silence for a few moments. There were so many things I wanted to know, so many questions bubbling up inside me, but I held them back. She would speak when she was ready to. For as much as my thoughts were churning around, hers had to be just as much, if not more. After all, she was the one who just found out she was sharing her body with another living being. And that she was responsible for that little life coming into this world safely. It was a lot to handle.

  After a long stretch, she took a sip of her juice, set the glass down, and looked at me.

  “Do you remember the first time I asked you to come to my house?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah. You weren’t feeling well, so you wanted me to come over and talk about everything.”

  “Right. At that point, I had a stomach virus. It had been going on for a few days, and it was awful. I went to my doctor, and she said that particular virus was really bad this year and I had a nasty case of it. She told me to go home, get rest, drink fluids, the usual spiel. And I did, and I felt better. But then I started feeling sick and exhausted all the time again.”

  “After our night together,” I said.

  She pressed her lips together and gave a single sharp nod. “Right. The nurse I talked to said it could be that I caught the virus again, or that I wasn’t fully recovered to begin with, or that it was just stress. Only, it didn’t get better. The day I came to your office to give you the check for my seed money, I had an appointment with the doctor.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.