by Jill Sanders
“Did you know you were born a month early?” he said, filling the silence. “I can’t really remember much, but I know mom always told the story of how you were born early.” He glanced over at her and smiled. “That’s why you’re so short.”
She laughed. “I’m five seven.”
“See.” He shrugged. “Short.”
She laughed and then winced again. “Brent.” She squeezed his hand tightly causing him to wince.
“I love you,” he said suddenly. “Just know that I love you. You’re going to be an incredible mother.”
Dylan bent over again. “I don’t think I can wait any longer.” She shifted slightly and he watched in horror as she pulled her yoga pants down.
He pushed the gas even more and silently prayed for his nephew or niece to hold on just a few more minutes.
“Brent!” his sister screamed as he pulled into the parking lot. “Trey!” she cried out when she saw her husband standing at the entrance to the emergency room.
Brent’s tires squealed to a halt and then Trey was there, opening the passenger door.
“The baby’s coming now!” Dylan cried out. He watched in horror as Trey lifted his sister’s shirt and spread her legs just as a little greyish glob of a baby slid out into Trey’s waiting hands.
“Holy shit,” Trey said and looked up at him.
Then two nurses rushed forward and took over as Dylan was lifted carefully from his truck seat and placed on a gurney while she held the little girl in her arms.
He sat there in his truck, counting his heartbeats, while everyone disappeared inside. He had a niece.
He parked his truck, after a security guard told him to move it, and he got out just as his phone rang. Seeing an unknown number, he answered.
“Did you make it okay?” Mel asked.
“Yes, she had a girl. In my truck. In the parking lot at the hospital. But as far as I can tell, they’re doing okay. I’m about to head in and check myself.”
“Congratulations,” Mel said.
“Thanks.” He wiped his hand through his hair as he stepped inside the hospital doors. “I guess I need to get them something.” He glanced towards the lobby area.
“Flowers,” Mel suggested. “What are your sister’s favorite flowers?”
He thought about it and felt his heart sink. “I don’t know.”
“Carnations are always nice,” Mel suggested. “Pink and white if they have them.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t forget a card.”
“Right.” He walked towards the gift shop.
“I’ll let you go. Tell Dylan and Trey congratulations.”
“I will. I should be back in a few hours.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty to do.”
“You do?” He tucked the phone between his ear and his shoulder.
“Yes, your sister helped me create a list.”
“Of course she did.” Brent chuckled. “She’s good at lists.” He pulled a vase of white carnations from the fridge in a pink vase. “Well, have at it. If you need any supplies, there’s some cash in the drawer behind the counter.” The line was silent for a moment and he thought that he’d lost the connection.
“I will need some office supplies,” she finally responded. “I’ll make sure to keep the receipts if I go.”
“Sounds good.” He started looking at cards. “There doesn’t seem to be a card for what just happened in my truck,” he joked and enjoyed the sound of her laughter.
“I think just a congratulations one will cover it.”
He smiled. “Gotcha. See you later.”
“Bye,” she said and hung up.
Almost fifteen minutes later, he walked into his sister’s private room, holding the flowers and the card.
Dylan was sitting up in the bed, holding the baby while Trey sat next to her, watching the pair of them.
“Hey,” he said, smiling as he ran his eyes over his sister’s face. He needed to know that she was okay and seeing the smile on her face assured him of it.
“There’s your uncle now,” Dylan said softly to the baby. “She just had her first meal and is sleeping.” Dylan looked up at him.
“So, she…” He set the flowers down and walked over to look down at the dark-haired beauty sleeping in Dylan’s arms.
“Bella Maria.” Dylan smiled up at him. “Maria after mom.”
He felt tears sting his eyes as he reached out a hand and gently ran a finger over his niece’s dark curls. “All that hair.”
Dylan laughed. “No wonder I had heartburn every day.”
He looked up at Trey and held out his hand to shake it. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, and thanks for getting them here in time.” Trey shook his head. “It’s a good thing I played a lot of ball with my brothers.” He chuckled. “I never imagined I’d be catching my daughter one day.”
“Everyone’s alright though, right?” He glanced back at his sister. “I mean, she is early.”
“Yes,” Trey answered. “Early, but healthy.”
“Good.” He relaxed. Just then there was a knock on the door, and Trey’s brothers rushed in and surrounded Dylan and little Bella. He stood back as the entire McGowan family filled the room.
Over the past few years, he’d grown used to the family. Every single one of them had proven to him at one point or another that they were worthy of his sister’s affection. Not to mention his own.
A little over an hour later, he made his way to his sister’s side and held his niece for the first time while someone took pictures. He couldn’t get over how small Bella was.
“She’s so tiny. Are you sure she’s fully cooked?” He looked up to see someone’s camera zeroed in on him. He felt embarrassed when the entire room burst out laughing.
“Yes,” Dylan said softly as she ran a fingertip down her daughter’s tiny nose. “She’s fully cooked. Well, a few weeks early, but still fully cooked. The doctors have given her a clean bill of health.”
He bent his head down and placed a soft kiss on Bella’s forehead, noticing that his mouth covered the entirety of the area.
After he handed Bella back over to his sister, he made his excuses and headed back to work, promising to visit the new family later that week, after they had a chance to settle Bella at home.
His first stop was the carwash where he hosed down the inside of his truck, thankful for the leather seats and the heavy-duty floor mats he’d purchased.
When his truck was clean, he swung by and grabbed a large pizza, some bread sticks, and a couple sodas before heading back to work.
He found Mel in the small office off the kitchen when he arrived. She’d completely cleaned out and organized the space.
“Looks like you got a lot done in here,” he said, holding up the pizza box. “Lunch?”
“I think you mean dinner.” Mel glanced down at her watch. “It’s past six.”
“Six?” He frowned and looked down at his own watch. “I guess I spent more time at the hospital than I thought. No wonder I’m starving, and you were able to clean out this entire office. Looks good, by the way.”
“Thanks.” She stood up and dusted off her pants. He noticed that she’d changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “I figured we’d need a place to work,” Mel said, following him out to the kitchen.
“I hope you like anchovies,” he said, setting the pizza box down. At the look on her face, he smiled and lifted the lid to the pepperoni pizza. “Just kidding.”
“Good.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, does anyone like anchovies? Why is that even an option on pizza?”
“Right.” He motioned with his hand and pulled two stools over to the countertop and handed her a soda. “Hope you like Coke.”
“It’s the one place I do allow my body to get caffeine,” she said before taking a sip.
He tilted his head slightly. “So, instead of talking shop, why don’t we get to know one another a little better. How about you tell me a littl
e more about yourself?”
In the blink of an eye, she transformed from being completely relaxed to tense and on edge.
Chapter 6
Mel felt her heart skip several times as another panic attack threatened to consume her.
“I’ll start if you want,” Brent continued as he took another slice of pizza. “My birthday is October eighth. I was born in Seattle. My parents died on my twenty-first birthday in a boating accident in Mexico. Dylan and I were two of the four survivors. After that, I was given custody of Dylan and for the next few years proceeded to do a shit job of raising her. Then I lucked out by winning this place and am hoping that things have finally turned around for me.” He had said all of it in a pleasant tone, but she’d gasped at his story.
“How horrible.” She set down her drink.
“Yeah, I know, being born in Seattle.” He rolled his eyes, and she couldn’t help but smile.
Her smile slipped a little. “How old was Dylan?” she asked, and Brent’s eyes turned sober.
“She’d just turned seventeen.” He looked down into his pizza.
She thought back to what she’d been doing at seventeen. How her parents had been there, at least back then, supporting her, giving her everything she’d wanted. Even now, all it would take was a phone call to have them send her the money for a plane ticket home. Back into the arms of her husband. Ex, she corrected.
Swallowing, she decided she could tell Brent a few details without giving him the entire story.
“I grew up in the city. I graduated high school and business school top of my class.”
“A brainiac,” he interrupted with a smile. “Pegged it.”
She smiled and then took a deep breath.
“I married my college sweetheart within months of graduating and divorced him less than a year later,” she said, avoiding Brent’s eyes.
“How long ago was that?” he asked.
She glanced up at him. “A year ago.”
His eyes narrowed. “Since then?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “I’ve been traveling.”
“Sabbatical?” he asked.
“Of sorts,” she agreed, though it was the farthest thing from the truth. A sabbatical is really a discovering of oneself. She knew who she was. What she wanted.
“I suppose that’s what I’ve spent the last two years doing myself,” he said. “The last time I was in Haven, things weren’t going so well for me.” He leaned back slightly. “I had been with this woman…” He took a deep breath. “She wasn’t… good for me. I was in a bad place and surrounded myself with people as damaged as I was. I believed I couldn’t do any better. That I wasn’t worth anything.” He reached for his drink but, instead of taking a sip, he turned the cup several times while he thought. She could see him trying to decide what to say next and waited patiently. After all, the more he talked about himself, the less he would expect her to open up. She just wasn’t ready for more at this point. “I guess you could say my eyes were opened when I caught Darla poking holes in my condoms.”
“What?” She sat forward. “Seriously?”
He chuckled and nodded. “Yeah. I mean, who does that, right?”
“Yeah.” She shook her head in disbelief as she thought of the birth control patches that she’d hidden from Ethan. It wasn’t the same thing. Not really. He’d been pushing her to have kids, and she’d known beyond any doubt that if they had children together, she would never be able to escape him. “Children should be a mutually agreed move in any relationship.”
“Exactly.” He motioned with his drink. “Not that I don’t love kids.” He pulled out his phone and looked at the image of him holding his new niece. “Bella.” He showed her the image. “She’s so small. I like them best when they’re bigger.”
She chuckled. “They don’t stay that small for long.”
“No.” He sighed and looked at the image again. “She has my sister’s hair and eyes.”
“That’s a good thing,” she joked.
“Yeah. Not that the McGowans aren’t a good-looking group. But I’m thankful she looks like Dylan.”
“Babies all look alike to me,” Mel admitted. She had a couple cousins that had kids. Each one of them looked like the other until they grew up and started running around. Then she could easily tell them apart.
He turned his phone towards her again, and she took a closer look at the little bundle he was holding wrapped in pink.
“Look at that hair.” She grabbed his phone and was shocked to see thick black hair on the little girl. “My god, you could almost braid it.”
He chuckled. “Dylan was the same when she was born. My mother claimed she had to give her a haircut the first week after she was born.”
“She is super cute,” Mel admitted. “I doubt I would confuse her with any other baby.”
“No,” he agreed with a chuckle. “Bella is in a league of her own.”
“It is a good thing you made it to the hospital in time,” she said, thankful that the subject had turned away from her life.
“Just barely. Trey opened the truck door and had to practically dive in to catch his daughter.” He smiled. “I had to run the truck through the wash inside and out, twice.”
She could see by the smile on his face that he didn’t really mind.
“Still, it makes for a good story.”
“Yes, it does.” His smile grew. “Best story ever.”
“What now?” she asked.
“Now”—he took another slice of pizza— “the family goes home, celebrates with a cookout this weekend, and gets started on a little brother for Bella.”
She laughed. “No wasted time.”
He shook his head. “Trey was already talking about creating an army of dark-haired kids just like Bella.”
“Cute,” she responded as she thought about her own future. For many years, she’d dreamed of her own family. Kids, house, dogs, a picket fence. Everything. Ethan had taken that away from her.
“Something wrong?” Brent asked her when she stopped talking or responding to him.
“No.” She shook off the mood and reached for another slice of pizza. “Just thinking about the marketing plan. I think we can—”
“Nope, no more shop talk tonight. Today is a national holiday.” He stood up suddenly and walked to the standing fridge and pulled out a bottle of champagne. He opened it and poured two glasses. “Celebration.” He held up the glass for her and then tapped it against his own. “To Bella Maria McGowan.”
“To Bella,” she said and took a drink.
Then Brent stood up again and walked over to the freezer. “How do you feel about butter rum?” he asked, his head deep in the freezer.
“Not one of my favorites, but it’ll go with champagne.”
He set a massive container of ice cream in front of her.
“It’s my favorite.” He moved over to get two bowls and spoons.
They sat in the kitchen, eating butter rum ice cream and drinking champagne, and talked about Haven and everyone in it. He filled her in on a few of the locals, the business the McGowans owned, and how a few years ago things had turned a little scary for McGowan Enterprises.
“So, that’s how Trey survived a fire after the explosion.” He finished telling the story of how his brother-in-law escaped the sabotage of one of the oil pumps.
“Wow, for such a small town, you really have a lot of crazy things going on around here. Maybe I should have found another town to have my truck break down in?”
He smiled. “Naw, that was a couple years ago. Things have settled down around here since.”
“Enough that you decided to come back and open up your own business.” She motioned around her. He’d poured her more champagne, her third glass. She didn’t mind, since he was currently on his third glass as well.
Could one get drunk off champagne? She’d never really had much of it. Except for the glass at her wedding. It had been expensive and tasted so bad that she’d only had two sips befo
re setting her glass down and leaving it behind.
“It was time. I wanted to be here when my niece was born.” He smiled and held up his glass again. “Guess I made it just in time.”
She smiled as he scooped up another spoonful of melted ice cream, not seeming to care that it was now runny.
“What about you? If you had to settle down somewhere, would it be back in L.A.?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m done with city life. It’s too easy to get lost in the shuffle.”
“That’s why I like it here in Haven. Not only are the townspeople kind, but they also go out of their way to help one another. You won’t find that in the city. Well, not very often, at any rate.”
“No,” she agreed and set her glass down, done with the drink. “You won’t.”
“It’s obvious you’ve been hurt.” The tone of his voice lowered, and she met his eyes. “It doesn’t take a genius to guess that it was at the hands of your ex.” She turned her eyes away from him again. “I won’t try to guess why you’re on the run, nor will I ask.” He held up his hand. “What I will ask is that, whatever the reason, if at any point you feel unsafe, you let me know before taking off.”
She met his eyes again and nodded. “I can do that.”
“Good.” He smiled. “Now”—he sighed— “I think I’m going to call it a night.” He glanced down at his watch and winced. “Who cares if it’s only ten o’clock. I’ll get used to bar hours soon enough.”
She laughed and helped him clean up the pizza boxes and the ice cream mess. Then she watched as he locked all the doors.
“When do you plan on hiring the kitchen staff?” she asked as they made their way up the stairs. When he gave her a look, she held up her hands. “I know, no shop talk.”
“It’s okay. I was hoping to hire them after the kitchen was finished getting setup,” he answered. “Along with the bar employees and waitstaff.” He stopped at the top of the stairs and unlocked the door that led to the private rooms. “Do you have any experience hiring?”
“Some,” she told him. She’d spent most of her time in the past few years working as a waitress. She figured the experience would help her here.