Surprise Double Delivery

by Therese Beharrie

  It wasn’t so much whoops as going through vigorous fertility treatments and being artificially inseminated twice. But whoops was what she planned to tell her parents. Rather their disappointment that she hadn’t been careful than tell them she didn’t want anyone in her life who could hurt her the way they had.

  She was clearly in a very healthy mental space.

  ‘Nice place,’ Benjamin said, breaking into her thoughts.

  ‘Thanks.’

  It was more invasive than she’d anticipated, having him look at her stuff. But they needed privacy, her place was the closest, and it was better to be here than at Infinity. There was more of her there, and with their baggage, it had felt wrong to take him there.

  It wasn’t that she wasn’t proud of her home. Everything in it had been put there for a reason. The beige sofas were comfortable and expensive, the first items she’d bought for the flat. The restaurant had still been a baby, so it had taken most of her disposable income to buy them. She had slept on them for four months. They weren’t as comfortable as a bed, but then, she hadn’t been sleeping much anyway. She had been fuelled by the desire to succeed, and three to four hours of sleep were more than enough in those days.

  The coffee table had come next, then the dining room set, both made from the most gorgeous stained wood. The fluffy carpet had been an indulgence considering she still hadn’t had a bed, but filling the open-plan lounge and dining-room had been more important to her. It had made the flat feel like a home.

  Her priorities had then shifted to her bedroom, which took her six months to complete. Last was her kitchen, separated from the dining room by half-wall, half-glass, with an opening on the right. The style somehow managed to give the impression of being open-plan, but offered privacy, too. She hadn’t had the money to do what she wanted in the kitchen for the longest time, which was why she’d left it for last. Besides, she had everything she wanted at her restaurant, and that was enough.

  After a year and a half, her kitchen was exactly what she had imagined it would be. Her appliances were top-of-the-range. Shelves were strategically placed all over the room; spices near the stove, fresh herbs near the window. Cupboards were filled with the best quality ingredients, and close to where they were needed. She’d added colour with fake plants, because her energy was mostly focused on keeping the herbs alive and there was too much competition for the light. And her utensils! Those were colourful, too, though pastel, which made her feel classy and grown-up. Heaven only knew why.

  ‘I didn’t expect it to be quite this...warm.’

  She threw her handbag onto the sofa, shrugged off her coat. ‘Because I’m so cold-hearted, you mean?’

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘Then what did you mean?’

  ‘It’s just...’ He looked around, as if to confirm what he was about to say. ‘It really is lovely. Everything fits. It’s like you selected each thing on purpose.’

  ‘You didn’t?’ she asked. ‘In your own home?’

  ‘I don’t have my own home.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I live with my parents.’

  She stared at him. She didn’t know how long it was until his lip curled.

  ‘You have an opinion on that?’

  ‘No,’ she replied. ‘I don’t.’

  ‘You have an opinion on everything. Also, your face is saying something different.’

  ‘You’re right. I do have an opinion. But I don’t want to share it.’

  It was pure stubbornness, since sharing her opinion would have been the perfect segue into the questions she had. Why was he, a successful adult, still living with his parents? She knew he was successful because In the Rough was her main rival, according to reviews and social media, and she was pretty damn successful, despite the forces working against her.

  It still smarted that they were succeeding with a restaurant that had been meant to be hers. The location, the property, the name—Lee had stolen it all from her. Then he’d gone and recruited Benjamin to work with him. Lee could have chosen anyone else. Actually, she was sure that Lee had specifically chosen Benjamin because the man annoyed her so much, though she wasn’t sure how Lee would know that. Either way, Benjamin annoyed her more now that he was in cahoots with her brother. At least before, he’d annoyed her on his own merits.

  He’d singled her out their first day at the Institute. She had no idea why, since she minded her own business. For some inexplicable reason, he’d decided she was partly his business, and he began to compete with her. She’d instantly recoiled; she had enough competition in life. She hadn’t cut Lee out of her life and minimised her contact with her parents, only to replace them with a negligible man-child.

  Now she had to work with the man-child.

  ‘Would you like some alcohol?’ she asked after a deep sigh.

  His eyes flickered with amusement, contrasting the tighter lines on his face. ‘Anything you want to give me is fine.’

  She bit her tongue before she could reply. She hadn’t thought of anything to reply with, but her tongue was often quicker than her brain. She didn’t want to take the chance of saying something inappropriate. Such as how what she wanted to give him was another kiss to see if the spark she’d felt was a fluke...

  She poured him a generous glass of whiskey from a bottle that was still three quarters full and settled on water and peppermint for herself.

  ‘You’re not having any?’ he asked, accepting the glass from her.

  She leaned back against the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen. ‘I’m on an alcohol fast.’

  ‘Why?’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘You’re annoyed because I asked?’

  ‘Yes, actually. It’s rude.’

  Plus she didn’t have a good answer for him. She hadn’t anticipated him asking why she was fasting from alcohol. She should have known he wouldn’t be polite and leave it at that though.

  ‘Sorry.’ His lips twitched. ‘So...’

  He didn’t say anything more. She didn’t speak either. The silence stretched between them like a cat in the sun. Then, as a cat would, it stared Alexa in the eyes, unblinking, until she sighed.

  ‘This is what dating you is like?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘How disturbing.’

  * * *

  How she knew exactly what to say to get under his skin was what was really disturbing.

  But then, disturbing seemed to be the theme of the night. What with the fake relationship, the kiss, being in Alexa’s home. He’d offended her by noting that her flat was homey, but he couldn’t help but be honest. She’d done an amazing job turning what would have been a trendy, but not particularly special place into something he could imagine coming home to.

  Well, not him, exactly. He had his own home. With his parents. Which she had an opinion on, but wouldn’t tell him about because she was stubborn. He couldn’t be upset by it since he was stubborn, too. If she’d asked why he still lived with his parents he wouldn’t have told her.

  Not that any of it was important now.

  ‘Cherise saw us.’

  ‘I know.’ She drained her glass. Her gaze rested on his, before it rose to his face. Something about it made his body feel more aware. ‘Would you like some more?’

  He glanced at the glass. Empty. Strange. He didn’t remember drinking from it. Except for that one time when he’d taken a long, deep gulp and—

  Ah, yes. He remembered now.

  ‘No, thank you.’ Probably best with all the disturbing stuff happening.

  ‘Tea, then? I’m making myself some.’

  ‘Anything to avoid having a straight conversation with me?’

  ‘What is this we’re having, then?’ she asked, filling the kettle with water. She took out two mugs, despite the fact that he hadn’t answered her. ‘
A skew conversation? Diagonal?’

  ‘Funny lady.’

  Amusement flickered in her eyes. ‘I try.’

  ‘To annoy me, yes,’ he muttered.

  The amused light danced in her eyes again. He felt an answering light in his chest. He didn’t care for it. It made him think the tables had turned.

  ‘I know we have to talk about this.’ She took out ginger from the fridge, sliced up some pieces and threw it in one cup. She looked over at him. ‘Tea? Coffee?’

  ‘Coffee. Please,’ he added as an afterthought.

  She began to make his coffee, expression pensive. ‘I suppose I wanted to make the conversation easier. Less awkward. A discussion over hot drinks seemed like something that would help with that.’

  His mother would like her, he thought before he could stop himself. Usually, he was more careful when it came to comparisons between his mother and people he wasn’t related to. Hell, people he was related to, too. It tended to evoke protective feelings in him when he did. He blamed it on the fact that he felt protective of his mother, so when he recognised something akin to her in someone else, those feelings bled over. It had too often in the past, and he’d been hurt because of it. Which should have made him more careful. It usually did. Except now, apparently.

  ‘How did I manage to upset you with that?’ she asked, more resigned than curious.

  ‘You didn’t.’ A lie. Or half-lie. He’d upset himself, but because of something she’d said.

  Her eyes narrowed, but she finished his coffee, slid it over the counter towards him. She finished her own drink with a teaspoon of honey, then leaned back against the counter as she had with her water.

  ‘Okay, so let’s talk straight.’ She bit her lip, then straightened her shoulders. ‘I’m sorry for pretending you’re my boyfriend. It was an impulse.’

  ‘Why did you?’

  She tilted her head, as if considering his question. Or perhaps considering whether she’d answer it.

  ‘My brother is a jerk.’

  He stared.

  ‘You can’t possibly not have noticed,’ she replied at the look. ‘He’s entitled, and competitive, and generally unkind. I wanted to push him off a cliff. Since literally doing so would send me to prison, I settled for figuratively. You were the figurative.’

  He took a minute to process that.

  ‘He’s normally a decent guy.’

  ‘Maybe to you. But since you said normally, I think you recognised that he wasn’t decent today.’ She paused, her lips pursing. ‘He normally isn’t decent with me.’

  Lee’s behaviour today didn’t encourage him to disagree with her. So he didn’t.

  ‘It’s weird that you pretended I was your boyfriend. You hate me.’

  ‘You were the closest person,’ she said coolly, not denying his statement. ‘Also, you’re his business partner. Best cliff.’ She shrugged.

  He took a steadying breath. He didn’t like being used. He’d had too many instances of it in his life. His last girlfriend, his father’s colleague, his cousin. Those were but a few, but they were the most recent. Remembering them had him steeling himself against Alexa’s charm—or whatever it was that kept him standing there.

  ‘I don’t like being used.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice and expression were sincere. ‘I’m sorry for putting you in a position to be used. For using you.’

  It was that sincerity that had him saying, ‘Apology accepted,’ when he wasn’t entirely sure he meant it.

  ‘Thank you.’ There was a brief pause. ‘So maybe now you can explain why you decided to go along with the charade. Maybe you can apologise for that kiss, too.’

  Chapter 4

  The expression on his face was comical. But, since she’d asked him a serious question, one she would very much have liked an answer for, she decided not to give in to the smile. To wait.

  His expression became more comical. His mouth contracted and expanded, as if he were mouthing what he wanted to say, but not quite. Emotions danced in his eyes, though she couldn’t put her finger on what they were. But really, it was that tick near his nose, which she’d never before seen, that amused her the most.

  Still, she didn’t smile.

  ‘I thought... I mean, he was... I wanted to...’

  His stammers made resisting the smile harder. It was strange. She had never before spoken with him long enough to have to resist any of her emotions. Usually, those emotions ranged from irritated to downright angry. Amusement generally didn’t feature; not unless it was tainted with satisfaction. This wasn’t. This was simply...amusement.

  An alarm went off in her head.

  ‘You wanted to what?’ she asked, her words sharp, marching to that alarm.

  He cleared his throat and met her eyes. His expression was now serious.

  ‘I wanted Lee to stop acting like a jerk.’

  ‘Well.’ It was all she said for a while. ‘You succeeded, just for a moment.’

  ‘But at what cost?’

  His eyes bored into hers, and her face began to heat. Was he asking how she’d felt about that kiss? If he was, he’d have his answer in her blush.

  Because it had embarrassed her, she assured herself. Her fingers lifted and slipped under the neckline of her dress. She lifted it, let it fall, sending air down her body, which had suddenly become clammy. For some reason, her skin was itchy, too. It was exactly how she felt on a summer’s day in the kitchen. Hot and sticky, but satisfied at what she was cooking up.

  Wait—satisfied? Where had that come from? What was happening to her?

  Embarrassment, an inner voice offered again. She clung to it. Ignored the fact that her memories of that kiss, of how she’d felt much as she did now while he’d been kissing her, were vehemently disagreeing.

  She took a deliberate sip of her tea. She’d put enough ginger in it that the flavour burned her throat. She relished it. Then met his eyes.

  ‘A high cost,’ she told him. ‘It means Cherise thinks we’re dating.’

  He was watching her closely. She hoped to heaven he hadn’t developed the ability to see into her head. ‘And now she’s confused about our opposing offers.’

  ‘I tried to tell her the same thing we told Lee,’ she said with a sigh. ‘The whole “we’re dating, but we’re keeping our personal and professional lives separate” thing. I don’t know if she bought it. She’s certainly confused by it.’

  ‘Me, too, to be honest with you.’

  He gestured, asking if she’d like to have a seat in the lounge. She would have, desperately, since her body was aching from a day of standing. Her baby apparently didn’t like that kind of strenuous activity. But it felt too intimate, sitting with him on the sofas she’d bought and slept on for months. A twinge in her back urged her to reconsider, and she spent hopelessly too long trying to decide. In the end, she strode past him without answering, as though it had been her idea all along.

  Man, pregnancy was making her stubborn.

  It was definitely the pregnancy. She didn’t possess a stubborn bone in her body normally.

  She sank into the sofa as soon as she sat down, a sigh leaving her lips immediately. His brows were raised when she looked at him.

  ‘Why didn’t you say something?’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘Needing to sit down.’

  ‘I didn’t need to.’

  ‘So what you did now wasn’t you finally relaxing and your body thanking you for it?’

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  He shook his head, but the sides of his mouth were quirked. ‘Stubborn isn’t an appealing quality.’

  ‘I don’t care if you find me appealing.’ She didn’t give herself a chance to figure out why that felt like a lie. ‘Besides, it’s been a long day.’

  ‘You get stubb
orn after a long day?’

  ‘That’s what I said, yes.’

  ‘Is it because you’re tired?’ He was outright smiling now. Taunting her, really. ‘Or is it a physical symptom? Aching legs, sore back, stubborn personality?’

  ‘Yes.’ It wasn’t an answer, but it was all he’d get. ‘Now—what are we going to do about Cherise?’

  The smile faded, but the twinkle in his eyes didn’t. He was sitting beneath the light fixture, which could account for that twinkle. But it didn’t; she’d seen that twinkle before. It appeared whenever he was amused with her. It was frustrating to know. More frustrating was how attractive that amusement made him.

  It danced in his brown eyes, crinkled the skin around them. That forced his cheeks up, which spread his full lips—lips she now knew had objectively impressive skills. None of that factored into how the angles of his face were affected. Warming them, softening them; perhaps a combination of the two. Either way, it dimmed his arrogance, that self-assured I know I’m successful and handsome edge of his. That edge was as devastating as it was irritating, particularly as it always seemed to be directed at her.

  ‘What were you planning on doing about Cherise before all this happened?’

  She snorted. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

  ‘Yes,’ he deadpanned. ‘That’s why I asked.’

  ‘You asked so you could outdo whatever I planned to do.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’

  ‘Like you wouldn’t dream of stealing my head chef? Who was already working for me, I might add. Happily. For months.’

  ‘That can’t be true if he left,’ Benjamin pointed out softly. ‘It didn’t take me much to convince him either.’

  ‘Are you defending stealing my chef?’

  ‘I didn’t steal him. I...gave him another option.’