Baby Surprises 7 Book Box Set

by Layla Valentine

  Right as I finished tying my laces, there was a knock at the door. I opened it up to see Justin dressed in an equally sharp outfit to what he had on during the trip over.

  “Wow,” he said, his eyes taking a quick pass up and down my outfit. “You look incredible.”

  I felt a hot blush spread out across my cheeks. Part of me hated how easily only a few words from Justin could make me blush. But another part of me loved it.

  “Thanks,” I said. “You’re looking pretty dapper yourself.”

  “Dapper, huh?” he asked. “I’ll take it.” A smile flashed across his face as he stepped aside. “You ready to hit the town?”

  “Absolutely.”

  We left the hotel, a sports car waiting for us in front of the building. It was a deep red color, one that reminded me of the car I’d seen speeding past me back when I was stuck in Queens at the auto shop.

  “Very nice,” I said. “Someone’s riding in style tonight.”

  “That’s right,” he said, taking a set of keys out from his pocket. “We are.”

  “Are you serious?” I asked. “You rented this?”

  “Bought it, actually,” he said. “Been looking for a new convertible for a while, and when I laid my eyes on this baby, I couldn’t resist.”

  I ran my hands over the paint, taking in the impossibly smooth, cool texture.

  “I figured we could take the car back up to the city. I’ll hire someone to fly the helicopter back. Supposed to be great weather all weekend—perfect for top-down driving.”

  I clasped my hands together, bursting with excitement.

  “Let’s go!” I said, feeling as giddy as a little kid.

  “What the lady wants, the lady gets,” Justin said with a grin as he beeped the keys and unlocked the car.

  He opened the door for me, and I slid into the seat, the leather interior cool and soft. Justin followed, the car starting up as soon as he sat down.

  “Wow,” I said. “Auto-starting engine, huh?”

  “Pretty snazzy, right?”

  “I’ll say. With my car, I’m happy if it even starts when I want it to.”

  The engine growled as Justin revved it. He put the car into gear and pulled out from his spot, catching the eye of anyone who happened to be nearby. Before too long we were racing down the narrow roads leading from the vineyard into town.

  With a tap of a button on the dash, the top lifted off and silently slid into the back of the car. The wind hit my face and I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling of the perfect evening air on my skin. Sure, my hair was probably going to be a disaster from the wind, but I didn’t care.

  Right then, it was me, Justin, and the road. And that was all I needed.

  The next day, we sat in the tasting room of the vineyard, a wine expert doing her best to enlighten us.

  “And this is our 2015 pinot noir. The first thing I want you to notice is the richness of the color—a deep ruby red. Go ahead, give it a swirl in the glass.”

  I did.

  “See those track marks of the wine down the side? Those are called ‘legs.’ You can see they’re moving down slowly, which means there’s a higher alcohol content to this wine.”

  Higher alcohol content—now she was speaking my language.

  “Give it another swirl and hold it up to the light,” the expert continued. “You’ll see that barely any light gets through. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that this means it’s a heartier wine.”

  I shot a glance over to Justin who was seated next to me at the bar. He met my sly glance, flashing me one of his own that suggested he was ready to hurry up and drink.

  The sommelier, a trim, middle-aged woman with stylish, Brooklyn looks, went on.

  “Next is the smell. Give it a whiff and tell me what you think.”

  I gingerly brought the glass to my nose, taking a small sniff of the wine.

  “Smells…winey,” I said.

  The sommelier chuckled.

  “Not like that,” she said. “You really want to get your nose in there—give it a deep, deep sniff. Don’t be shy.”

  I turned slightly toward Justin, seeing that he about had his entire face shoved into the wide mouth of the glass.

  “Like this?” he asked, his voice muffled through the glass.

  I laughed at the sight of him.

  “I like your enthusiasm, Mr. Donovan,” the sommelier said. “Now, tell me what you smell.”

  He sniffed in a comically exaggerated way before lifting his head back up.

  “It smells like…grapes,” he said.

  “You’re not wrong about that,” she said lightly, then turned to me. “Go on in, Mrs. Donovan,” she said. “Really get your nose in there.”

  “Oh, we’re not—”

  Justin and I said the same thing at the same time, then looked over to each other with wide eyes, both of us realizing what we’d said. The sommelier appeared a tad flustered.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just assumed.”

  “It’s fine,” said Justin. “Ninety-nine percent of the time you’d be right.”

  “You can call me Heather,” I said.

  “Sure, Heather. Sorry again,” she said. Then she nodded toward the glass.

  I sniffed it, expecting to sense nothing else other than grapes.

  But instead, I smelled something. Many somethings, actually.

  “I smell…lavender,” I said. “And something else…something chocolaty, maybe with some coffee thrown in there. And some pepper—definitely that. Oh! And vanilla, too.”

  Justin and the sommelier both appeared very impressed.

  “Couldn’t have said it better myself,” she said.

  “Wow,” said Justin. “Very descriptive. Maybe you’re in the wrong business.”

  The sommelier smiled, placing her hands on the table.

  “Normally, I’d say this is the part where you spit it out and move onto the next one. But I can tell you two like it.”

  “That we do,” said Justin, raising his glass for another sip.

  “In that case, I’ll let you both spend some time with the bottle. Go ahead and flag me down when you’re ready for the next one.”

  “Thanks a lot,” said Justin.

  With that, the sommelier left us to enjoy the wine.

  I took a look around the sampling room. It was an old barn, cleared out and repurposed as a large bar. Hundreds of wine bottle had been stacked here and there along the walls, the front of the barn opened up and allowing a lovely view of the vineyard illuminated by the afternoon sun. A couple dozen other visitors were here and there, seated at the bar with us or relaxing in the lounge area in the center of the room.

  The vibe was relaxed, the wine was delicious, and the soft music in the air complemented it all. The nice buzz I had going on was the cherry on top.

  “Cheers,” said Justin, raising his glass.

  “What’re we toasting to this time?” I asked.

  “That’s a good question,” he said, scratching his chin as he looked away. “With all the wine we’ve had over the last day, I think we’ve about run out of toasting topics.”

  “How about to having another glass of amazing wine,” I said.

  “Works for me,” said Justin.

  We tapped the rims together and took our sips.

  “How’re you holding up?” he asked.

  “Perfectly,” I said. “This weekend’s been just amazing so far.”

  And it had been. Our dinner the night before in the charming downtown of the nearby city had been wonderful. That morning, we’d had a delicious breakfast courtesy of room service, followed by a tour of the vineyard. I’d learned so much about wine that I knew I’d have a hell of a time keeping it all in my head, but that was okay.

  Now we were in the tasting room, ready to indulge.

  “Don’t get too crazy,” said Justin. “We’ve still got dinner later tonight.”

  I raised my eyebrows playfully.

  “You think I’m
the type to go crazy?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe once you get a few more glasses of wine in you.”

  “I suppose I’ll have to pace myself.” I gave him another smile before taking a sip.

  “This duck wine’s some good stuff, huh?” Justin said after taking a sip of his own.

  “I’m pretty sure it has an actual name,” I said.

  I picked up the bottle in front of us and read the label.

  “‘McAllister, Ford and Thorne,’” I said, reading the title above the duck.

  “Too many names to remember,” said Justin. “I’m fine calling it ‘duck wine.’”

  I laughed. “Works for me.”

  A pleasant silence fell as we worked our way through the wine.

  “Well, I hope this has been a nice, relaxing weekend so far,” he said. “Because you’ve earned it, Heather.”

  “It’s been heavenly,” I said. “It’d been so long since I got out of the city, I was starting to forget there was a world outside of it.”

  “That’s the New York effect,” he said. “But you grew up here—you know all about it.”

  “I do,” I said. “Even getting out of Queens was like a vacation when I was a kid. Little did I know how much was only a helicopter ride away.”

  Justin chuckled.

  “Thanks for all this, by the way,” I said. “It really means a lot to me that you’d do this.”

  “Happy to give you a break from it all.”

  “Though I have to admit,” I said. “I’m missing Faye like crazy.”

  “You heard from your parents?”

  “Oh, don’t you worry—they’ve been keeping my messages full of pictures and videos.”

  “Excellent.”

  “And they still want to know all about this mysterious man who’s whisked me away from the city.”

  Justin appeared intrigued at that.

  “What have you told them?” he asked.

  “Only the basics. But the more scraps of info I’ve thrown them, the more they want to know.”

  “That’s usually how it goes,” he said. “But that’s good that they’re so curious.”

  I was about to say something joking about how I sometimes felt like I never got a moment’s peace from them, but then I remembered Justin’s family situation. He’d probably kill to have family breathing down his neck like this.

  We finished our wine, the sommelier returning and walking us through a few more different varietals. I paced myself with these, only taking a small sip of each. After all, I did have an entire evening ahead of me.

  Once we were done with the tasting, the two of us made our way back to the hotel. Once we got there, however, Justin stopped in his tracks.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Just thinking,” he said. “You feel up for another helicopter ride?”

  “To where?” I asked.

  “A secret,” he said. “I’m thinking we can do some dinner to-go, maybe take a bottle of wine with us.”

  “Sounds…interesting,” I said.

  “It will be. Go pick out what you want to wear, and I’ll let you know when it’s all ready.”

  “That’s it?” I asked. “No more details?”

  He shook his head. “That would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

  “Never a dull moment with you,” I said.

  “And that’s exactly how it should be.”

  He gave me a wink and headed toward the car. Moments later he was off down the road, the roar of the car engine fading into the distance.

  I couldn’t help it—I was totally excited. I hurried up to my room and went through my things, trying to pick out the perfect outfit. I didn’t have much with me, having only packed for a weekend, but I eventually settled on a nice, light blue dress that fit just right and boosted my confidence whenever I wore it.

  Once I had it on, I stood in front of the mirror and gave myself a once-over.

  I didn’t look half bad, and there was a smile on my face that I couldn’t get rid of.

  Chapter 19

  Heather

  An hour later, I got the text from Justin asking me to meet him outside. I sprang from the bed where I’d been lounging, having just video-called my parents and Faye, and rushed out the front door.

  Justin awaited me out front, dressed in a sharp suit and leaning against the convertible. In one hand was a picnic basket, in the other a bottle of wine.

  “A picnic?” I asked, intrigued. “Are we having dinner in the vineyard?”

  He shook his head. “Wouldn’t need the helicopter for that, would we?”

  “I suppose you’re right about that. So, where are we going?”

  “You’ll see,” he said simply. “Now hop in, I want to get there before sunset.”

  The sun had already begun its dip toward the horizon, and I guessed we had about thirty minutes before it went down completely. We jumped into the car and were off.

  Justin zipped us down the road, and we soon arrived at the airport. One of his employees met us near the car and took it off our hands as we approached the helicopter. We climbed inside and, after getting strapped in, were soon airborne.

  The helicopter rose up and up.

  “There,” he said, pointing toward the west. “Check that out.”

  I gasped as I saw what he was pointing to. It was the sunset, more brilliant and colorful than I’d ever seen. The red orb was surrounded by brilliant, swirling colors, the purple above fading into a coal-black night sky dotted with thousands of twinkling stars that were only visible this high up.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said.

  “Nothing quite like a sunset from this height.”

  He pointed the helicopter toward the east end of Long Island and flew. It was only about a five-minute ride until we reached the tip of the island, at the village of Montauk. We touched down at a small, private airfield and were soon back on our feet.

  “The place is only a short walk from here,” said Justin. “Come on.”

  Basket and wine in hand, he led me off the airfield and down to the eastern shore of the village. The lighthouse at the end of the island cast a thick beam of light out onto the ocean, the spotlight illuminating white crests of waves.

  “How does a beachfront dinner work for you?” he asked.

  “Works perfectly,” I said.

  He opened up the basket and took out a blanket, unfolding it onto the sand. I took a seat as Justin unpacked the food.

  “Went with some Italian today,” he said. “Thought it’d be good with the wine.”

  “I love it.”

  My heart soared as he got our dinners ready. I couldn’t get over how thoughtful and sweet it was. I’d never had a man treat me like this before.

  “How is it?” asked Justin before taking a sip of his wine.

  “So amazing,” I said. “You’ve…you’ve really gone all out for me this weekend.”

  “I’m only in it for the duck wine,” he said with a smirk. “But I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

  I laughed. “Jerk,” I said, playfully hitting him on the arm. I took a bite of my primavera, letting the flavors play on my tongue before swallowing.

  “I thought about heading back into town again,” Justin said. “But I figure when you live in New York, you’ve got to take your quiet time when you can get it.”

  “Very good call,” I said.

  We worked through our dinners, finishing the meals with two big servings of tiramisu. Once we were done, I sat back on my elbows.

  “I’m the perfect amount of full,” I said. “Not too much, but not hungry for more.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” he said, sitting back next to me.

  We said nothing for a time, instead watching the tide come in, listening to the soft hush of it crashing on the shore. The moon was a silver coin overhead, its sheen reflected on the water.

  I glanced over to see that Justin was close to me, very close. His eyes were fixed
forward, but he was close enough that I could feel his warmth, smell his scent.

  I wanted him to kiss me. I knew that this was a platonic weekend away, only a “thank you” for my work on the show. But I didn’t care anymore—I wanted him, and I wanted him badly. All I could think about was if he felt the same way.

  Then, Justin turned his head. We were even closer now, our lips mere inches apart. I could feel the heat grow between us, that wonderful tension that builds and builds right before a kiss. I closed my eyes, waiting for it.

  But it never came.

  Suddenly, Justin sprang to his feet.

  “We…need to get going,” he said. “Not a good idea to be flying when it’s dark out. Come on.”

  Disappointment hit me like a truck. I’d been so certain that he shared my attraction in that moment, but I guessed I was wrong.

  Wordlessly, we gathered up everything, and soon made our way back to the helicopter and the vineyard. The view was as incredible as we soared, the glow of New York visible off in the distance.

  But I couldn’t help but feel like there was some new tension between us, and not the good kind. Had he gotten the impression that I’d wanted him, only for him to decide that he didn’t want me back?

  Something was on his mind, something making him silent and distant.

  I worried I’d blown it, that I’d taken a fun weekend and screwed it all up with my obvious advances.

  We were soon at the vineyard, the walk back up to our rooms as silent as the trip back from Montauk.

  When I reached my door and took out my keycard, I glanced over at Justin.

  “Thanks again,” I said.

  “Yeah,” he said, his tone quiet. “No problem. Have a good night.”

  I stepped into my room and shut the door, a mixture of sadness and disappointment whirling inside of me. I plopped down onto the bed, mad at myself for what I’d done, how I’d made my desires so obvious.

  Before I could stew in my frustration for too long, however, a knock sounded at the door. Confused, I got up and answered it.

  It was Justin.