by BJ Harvey
All I need now is for her to hurry up and get her ass home already.
The knock on the front door comes right on time. I make my way from the living room through the kitchen and swing it open to find a grinning Gilly and a bag-laden Abi standing behind her.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I say, stepping forward and reaching my arm out for hers. After helping her into the house, I grab the gift bags from Abi’s hands. “You coming in, Abs?”
She shakes her head. “I’ve got to take Ronnie home, and then Cade and I are grabbing a quick dinner before returning to the madhouse.”
“Okay.”
She steps forward and looks past my shoulder. “Just saying, Skye totally told me what you’re doing, and I’m telling you, if I wasn’t married and you weren’t like a brother to me, I’d totally give you a hall pass.”
“Jesus,” I say, barking out a laugh.
She grins and waves her fingers in the air. “Byeeee. Sisters-in-law to drop home, and husbands to do naughty things to in the car before slipping back into mom mode again.”
I shake my head at her as she walks away. How is it possible for all five Cook children to be equally crazy, loyal, and individual in their own right? They’re some of the best people I know, and I’m proud to call them my family.
Now, to make sure someone else knows where they stand in my life.
After placing the gifts on the kitchen counter, I make my way through to the living room where I find Gilly standing stock still, her eyes wide as she slowly spins around in the same spot, taking everything in. Bouquets of red tulips are in vases on all of the flat surfaces. Tea light candles in glass lanterns are scattered everywhere, giving the space a soft yellow glow.
On the coffee table—I moved to the side—is a pregnancy-friendly grazing table with all of Gilly’s favorite foods—craved and otherwise.
She covers her mouth with her hand as I drop to my knees in front of her. I spot the moment she jumps to the wrong conclusion, and I quickly act to put her at ease. Don’t need her disappearing before I’ve said my piece. I’ve not forgotten the disastrous reaction I got when I proposed to her nine months ago, and I didn’t miss her warning me not to propose to her again. But that doesn’t mean I can’t make sure she knows exactly how much she means to me.
“Instead of proposing to you again, I’m going to un-propose.” Her smile falters, but I forge on. “You said you wanted to be different to the rest. This is how I’ll show you exactly that. I promise not to marry you. We don’t need a piece of paper binding us together when you already own me. I want to live with you and our son, and however many other children we may or may not have. I’ve done many impulsive things in my life, and they’ve never turned out how I wanted them to—how I hoped they would. But knowing you, loving and being loved by you, I know down to the bottom of my soul that just being with you is better than any dream I could have had.” I stare deep into her beautiful blue tear-filled eyes and smile. “As long as I’m with you, that’s all I’ll ever need.”
Her piercing gaze bores into mine, and I swear my entire world stops spinning. My heart stops dead in my chest, and I worry I’ve said too much, if maybe it was too soon. Her face is unreadable, and for this small moment in time in the absolute silence of our home, I swear the entire world outside could burn to the ground, and I wouldn’t even blink.
Not letting go of my hands, she slowly lowers herself carefully onto the floor with me. Her eyes don’t once veer from mine as she settles onto her knees, mirroring my position and inching forward until her belly stops her from moving any closer.
Clearing her throat, she takes a deep breath in and then out again. “When we first met, I thought I knew the kind of man you were. Charming, handsome, and with a smile that could drop a thousand pairs of panties and a track record of failed marriages that made you a safe bet when it came to a no-strings, no-expectations, no-holds-barred casual arrangement.”
“I’ve never been a safe bet, sweetheart.”
“No. You just made me feel safe.”
Of all the things I expected her to say, that was not it.
“All of my life, I’ve never been able to just be me. There was always the weight of expectation on my shoulders—how to act, how to hold myself, what college to go to, and what career path I’d go down. It was all about living up to the great Nelson family legacy.”
“Baby…”
“Then Ronnie broke the norm and followed her own dream in pursuit of a life we both could only ever imagine, and I was so proud of her. But I also envied everything she’d found in Jax and the rest of your big, crazy combined family. And I started to envisage what my own dream might look like.”
I lace our fingers together and give hers a gentle squeeze.
She lifts our hands to rest on her belly. “Then this little guy decided to make his existence a reality and opened my eyes to the fact that the life I always wanted and the kind of man I always wanted to live with was already there—we just both had to open our eyes and our hearts to the possibility of making it a reality.”
“And now?” I ask roughly.
“Now, Ezra Kane Baker, I have a question for you.”
“Anything,” I say without hesitation, my entire body so wired I worry I might spontaneously combust at any moment.
“What if I want to marry you? Tomorrow, next week, next year, our final moment on earth—whenever it is, whenever we want, whenever we’re ready. I want that piece of paper that tells the world what I’ve known for longer than I even realized.”
“What’s that?”
“That you’re mine and I’m yours…” she says, rubbing our hands over the exact spot where our unborn child is kicking. “…and he’s ours.”
I don’t blink when the first tear hits my cheek. Or the next. I don’t even waste time wiping them away, because I’m too busy leaning forward, cupping this gorgeous woman’s face, and murmuring one word against her lips.
“Yes,” I say before I kiss her. It’s like it’s that first time in the Vegas elevator when I had to taste her, and waiting even a second longer was a second too long. And she’s kissing me back like I’m the very air she needs to breathe, and I’m all the oxygen left in the world.
Then I’m standing and lifting her up off the floor and back onto the couch. I lay down beside her, needing to see and feel her and know that yes, that really just happened.
“I love you so much, but you goddamned near gave me a heart attack down there.”
She slowly moved her head back, her brows knitted together and her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “Why?”
“I thought I’d stuffed up.”
“You could never do that, Ez. Not with us.” She reaches down for my hand and places it over her slow, steady heartbeat. “Not with this. You’re the first man to give me real hope, the first man to create a life with me, and definitely the only man who’d take on me and my crazy all-over-the-place baby hormones and live to tell the tale.”
I chuckle at that.
“You’re the only man I’d ever get down on my knees for because there’s no one else I’d want to spend the rest of my life with after he just promised not to propose to me.”
“I was trying to be romantic.”
“Only you could try and pull off an un-proposal like that and succeed.”
“Only you could turn the tables on me and propose after I said I wouldn’t.”
She shrugs, struggling to keep a straight face but failing when her lips slowly curl up into a delirious grin.
I narrow my eyes on her mouth before slowly drifting my gaze up to meet hers. “You know I’m totally getting you a big-ass engagement ring as your push present, right?”
She nudges me with her knee. “Oh, you bet your ass you are.”
I laugh as I gently kiss her again. “Yes ma’am.”
“Good boy. Starting things off on the right foot. I approve.”
My grin widens as I pull back to stare deep in her eyes. “I did that sixteen
months ago when I bought a drink for a sexy woman in a black dress.”
“I did too when I saw a hot-as-hell architect in a suit sitting in a Vegas hotel bar.
My mouth drops open, and I narrow my eyes. “You’re so going to pay for that now.”
She winks and dips her head to press her mouth to mine. “Bring it on, baby daddy. Bring it on.”
Gilly
Thirty-eight weeks and it is situation normal.
Around three a.m. last night I was woken up by contractions. I waited about forty-five minutes to see whether they were the Braxton Hicks ones I’d been experiencing for months or if they were the real deal. Nothing much happened, so I rolled over and went back to sleep.
Today my stomach has been tight, but other than being really thirsty and feeling a bit off; it’s been a typical, boring ‘waiting for this baby to arrive already’ kind of day.
Until now.
I’ve been looking for signs—what first time thirty-eight weeks pregnant woman doesn’t—but there’s been nothing out of the ordinary. Except these Braxton Hicks just won’t give up. I’m lying on the couch, my feet elevated. I’ve got a heat pad on my back to help with my sore muscles, and I’m weirdly amped despite feeling physically exhausted.
Ezra is working his magic on my feet—as is his nightly ritual—when there’s a knock at the door.
He looks at me with a quirked brow, earning a shrug for his troubles, because everyone knows to call before coming over. “Whoever it is, get rid of them and get back to business, mister,” I say, trying to sound stern and failing.
He gently moves my swollen feet out of his lap while shifting forward and standing, shooting me a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
He walks out of the room and through to the entryway. The door creaks open, and then I hear hushed murmurs, but I’m not able to make out what they’re saying, let alone who decided to knock at our door at eight p.m.
“Sweetheart, you have a visitor,” Ezra announces, walking back into the room. I brace myself with my arms and move into a sitting position, resting my hands on my bump.
“Okay…” I say cautiously, reading Ezra’s ticked-off expression.
He crosses the room and stands beside me, next to the couch. I look up at him questioningly, but his eyes are glued toward the doorway. Following the line of his gaze, I freeze when I see my father standing there, his hands in his pockets, his entire demeanor in total contrast to how I saw it the last time I was at work.
It’s softer but tired, defeated. When he stares back at me, I see something I never thought was possible, and it makes me gasp.
“Keith?” As if it’s ingrained in me, I sit up straighter, pulling my shoulders back and trying to attain good posture despite the giant basketball inside of me making that feat near-on impossible.
“Gillian. I’m sorry to intrude, but I’ve asked Ezra if I could just have a moment of your time.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded. Who is this man, and where is Keith Nelson?
“Sure,” I reply as Ezra takes a seat on the arm of the couch and starts rubbing between my shoulders. There’s a familiar tightening around my stomach, but I try to put it at the back of my mind. I sweep my hand out and gesture toward the one-seater chair. “Have a seat.”
Keith nods and sits. “You look well.”
“Thank you,” I say curtly. Have I somehow stumbled into an alternate universe where I have polite conversation with my father in my own living room? There’s a first time for everything.
“I’ll get straight to the point so that I don’t disrupt your evening any more than I have already. I’ve come to apologize to you.” He looks between us. “Both of you.”
Ezra’s hand stills on my back. Okay, something is definitely wrong now.
“What’s going on? Because the last thing I expected was for you to knock on my door to say you’re sorry.”
Keith looks down to his wringing hands. “I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on my life recently, and a big part of that is my failings as a father with you and Veronica.”
My mouth drops open, but I quickly slam it shut again. I reach out for Ezra’s hand beside me and tangle my fingers with his.
When I don’t respond, Keith’s lips twitch. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you this stunned.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever rendered me speechless,” I reply.
“I’ll get the next big thing out of the way then. I’m leaving your mother.”
I gasp, and I do it loudly, covering my mouth with my hand and staring at my father like he’s grown a second head. “What?”
“For too long, I’ve let Sheila dictate my life and how we should be seen, and I wrongly pushed those expectations onto my two daughters who I’ve never been prouder of.” Tears sting my eyes as I see the glimpse of the dad I lost all those years ago. “Honestly, it may have taken me losing both of you to make me see reason, but now that I have, I’m hoping it’s not too late to regain your trust and get my girls back.”
Ezra’s grunt breaks the silence because I’m squeezing his hand so tight I’m cutting off the circulation. I tip my head up to look at him. “Sorry,” I say with a grimace.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Call it training for when you go into labor,” he deadpans.
Keith chuckles, and my head snaps back to him—the sound is so foreign to me. “I’m sorry, Gilly. For everything. I genuinely mean that,” he says, moving to his feet. “I know it’ll take time, but I’ll wait as long as it takes, and I’ll work as hard as I have to in order to be a part of both of your lives.” He looks down to my belly. “And my grandchildren’s.” Tears sting my eyes, and I swipe at my cheeks as they start to fall.
Letting go of Ezra’s hand, I try to push myself up off the couch, but fail as a surprisingly painful contraction squeezes my stomach like a vise. “Shit, damn, Jesus Christ, that’s a sore one,” I mutter through gritted teeth.
Ezra drops to the floor beside me. “Was that what I think it was?” he asks, his eyes wide and concerned.
I look between him and my father, grimacing with a small side of oops. “That was the worst one so far.”
Ezra’s mouth drops open. “What?”
I continue breathing through the pain, hoping it’s just another false alarm. “I… they… I’ve been… having them… all day…” I pant out.
“We should get her to the hospital,” Keith says, sounding worried.
I shake my head jerkily. “No. Not yet. Dr. Cameron said at my last checkup that contractions would have to last at least a minute or longer to warrant going to the hospital. It’s probably… nothing,” I say, letting out a huge breath.
As soon as the contraction passes, I drop back against the couch cushions and wait for my heart rate to slow down.
“I think I need to walk around. Getting vertical might help, you know, with gravity and all. He’s probably just in a weird position. That’s all,” I say. Ezra stands and holds his arm out to me, my father mirroring his position on the other side. Together, they both help me to my feet.
I meet my father’s worried gaze. “Thank you for coming here and for what you’ve said. I’d like time to think about it, and you need to speak with Ronnie as I can’t speak for her, but I can see you’re different. I’m not sure how—you’re just more… you.”
He lets out a sigh of relief, and the tension leaches out of him. “Thank you, Gilly. I’m in this for the long haul. I want to be in my daughters’ lives, and I’m willing to do whatever I have to in order to be the father you need me to be and to make up for not being the man I should’ve been in the past.”
Tears fall down my face again, and for the first time in God knows how long, I turn to my father and wrap my arms around his shoulders and give him a hug, my whimpers turning into sobs when he tightens his hold around my back.
“I love you, Gilly. Always have and always will.”
I sniffle and pull back, meeting his own wet eyes, trying not to react to the fact that the stoic, t
ough-as-brass Keith Nelson, who has left even the strongest man shaking in his boots in the courtroom, is fighting back tears in my living room.
The baby kicks against his stomach, and his eyes widen, jerking down to my bump. “Was that…?”
“Yep. That was a—” I stop mid-sentence as the baby kicks my cervix, followed by what feels like a bubble popping inside me, then a torrent of something that I really hope isn’t pee streaming down my leg.
I look to Ezra, who’s looking straight back at me before both of us look down at my wet pants.
Ezra moves to my side. “Was that what I think it was?” he asks.
Whereas there are only two words going through my mind.
“Oh shit.”
Gilly
My father jumps back, his eyes bugging out of his head.
I look at him, and I can’t help the giggle of absolute disbelief that escapes my lips. “Looks like maybe I was having contractions…” I say, not sounding too sure.
The two men on either side of me stare at each other as if at a loss as what to do.
Then it’s as if Ezra’s synapses start working again, and he jumps into action. “We need to call the hospital, and Dr. Cameron’s office, or maybe Cade could come, or Co and Skye…” He pauses for a second, and just when I think he’s stopped his freak out, he continues. “Or April, yes—she’s a nurse too.” He tilts his head and looks at me. “How do we have so many friends and family members who work in healthcare? That seems kind of strange, right?”
I can’t help it—I bite my lip trying not to laugh, but a snort escapes my mouth anyway.
“Who do you need me to call, Ezra?” Keith asks. “It’s been a while, but I remember when Gilly arrived, and we had to wait for a while before taking Sheila into the birthing unit.”
“Um… I want to get out of these pants for starters. It’s kind of gross,” I say with a wince.
“Yes, absolutely,” Ezra says, wrapping an arm around my waist and moving toward the doorway. “Shit, can you do the stairs?”