Baby Surprises 7 Book Box Set

by Layla Valentine

  “Then let’s do it.”

  I assembled all the ingredients and set to work. Before too long, I had the batter made. Next, I soaked the toast and plopped several pieces onto a skillet that sizzled with butter. Coffee percolated, the delicious smells flowing through the penthouse.

  I couldn’t believe how happy I’d been over the last few months. Sure, there had been a bit of doubt in me that I might not be up to the job of being a dad. But I gave it my all, doing my best to live up to the promise I’d made to Heather. And, if I did say so myself, I thought I was doing a pretty good job.

  More than that, my entire perspective on life had changed. Now it wasn’t only some kind of game to play to earn more money and success, but something to share with others I loved.

  Sure, I was nervous as hell about the baby to come. But being a dad to Faye had done a lot to make me feel like I was ready. I’d changed enough diapers and calmed enough tears that I didn’t feel like I’d be going into my next adventure totally blind.

  “Morning,” came a sleepy voice from the living room.

  Heather, dressed in a white silk robe, her strawberry-blond hair draped beautifully over her shoulders, waddled toward the kitchen.

  She gave me a kiss, then Faye, before plopping down onto one of the barstools at the kitchen bar.

  “You know,” I said. “I’m still down with getting you a little golf cart or something you can drive around the penthouse.”

  She shot me a playful scowl. “Cute,” she said.

  “Or maybe some kind of lever-and-pulley system,” I suggested. “That way you don’t even have to do anything.”

  I flashed her a smile as she good-naturedly shook her head.

  “My stomach is so freaking big,” she said, placing her hands on her round belly. “I feel like I’m about to give birth to a litter.”

  “Or the biggest baby in the city,” I said, flipping the toast.

  “Or that,” she said. “Mind getting me some coffee? I think I’m all walked out for the next few minutes.”

  “You got it.”

  I poured us each a cup as the toast finished.

  “Two more weeks,” she said, patting her belly.

  “That’s right,” I said. “Then we can start on number three.”

  Heather’s eyes went wide. “Oh man, don’t even joke about that,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Not feeling up for a brood?” I asked with a smile.

  “No, it’s not that,” she said. “More like suggesting getting pregnant again is the last thing a woman who’s about to pop wants to hear.”

  Then one of her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

  “Why?” she asked. “What’re you thinking?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Faye’s been incredible, and I’m feeling ready for him. Or her. If all goes well…”

  She smiled, apparently pleased with my answer.

  “Let’s talk about that when my stomach doesn’t look like a beach ball.”

  “Consider the subject tabled,” I said.

  “Now,” she said. “Let me at that French toast.”

  I piled a plate high for her and, after covering her French toast with butter and syrup, she dug in.

  “So good,” she said. “I’d almost rather sit around and eat all day.”

  “You can definitely do that,” I said. “I’m not even sure why you’re still going to work.”

  “I might be going on maternity leave soon,” she said, “but I can still be useful for a few more weeks. Besides, I’ve got so many friends there that I’d miss them.”

  If it were up to me, Heather would be taking it easy until the baby was here. But she was stubborn, and I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t one of the things I loved about her.

  “Okay!” she said, taking the last bite of her toast. “Better start getting ready.”

  “Same plan,” I said. “You get ready and head out, and I’ll get Faye to daycare downstairs.”

  “Sounds good,” she said. “I appreciate you.”

  Heather then hoisted herself out of her seat and gave me a kiss before waddling back off to the bedroom.

  “Okay, kiddo,” I said to Faye. “You ready to see all your friends at daycare?”

  Faye clapped happily.

  Heather was soon dressed and ready, and with a kiss, she was out the door.

  “See you tonight,” she said. “Love you!”

  “Love you too,” I said. We’d long passed the point when saying our “I love yous” had become habit now, but never failed to fill me with joy.

  Once Heather was gone, I cleaned up and brought Faye to the bedroom as I got dressed. Once I was in my suit, I stepped over to the secret compartment behind my tie rack and pulled it open.

  Inside, along with my passport and other important documents, was a small black box. I opened it up and glanced at the treasure inside, a smile on my face.

  I wanted to give it to her now, to make it all official. But I knew that waiting until the baby was here and we’d all had some time to decompress would be the best call. Still, I couldn’t wait to ask Heather to marry me. I was as giddy as a kid counting down until Christmas.

  But for now, I needed to worry about work.

  My driver awaited me outside, and after a quick drive to my offices, I stepped out onto the sidewalk and looked up at the sleek, steel and glass tower that was my headquarters. Part of me still had a hard time believing that this was all mine, but the better part of me loved it and knew I’d busted my ass to get where I was.

  And soon I was going to be a family man. It was almost too good to be true.

  A big smile on my face, I headed into the building. My staff greeted me as I arrived, and I took the elevator up to the top floor, where one of my assistants, Ann, was already waiting for me.

  “Good morning, Mr. Donovan,” she said, stepping up to my side as I made my way to my office.

  “Morning, Ann,” I said back.

  “You have a busy day ahead, as I’m sure you know. And there’s an extra meeting to squeeze in, believe it or not.”

  I shook my head. “Another one?”

  I opened the door to my enormous, modern office, the view looking out over the Financial District.

  “It’s your friend Andrew,” Ann said. “He told me that he could wait, but the sooner he talked to you the better.”

  “Sure,” I said. “I’ll let him know I’m free.”

  Ann went through the rest of the appointments I had on the docket for the day. Now that I was here in the office, I was ready to work, ready to push my company and all my employees just a little bit further.

  After all, I wasn’t only working for me. I had Heather and Faye and the baby to worry about.

  I texted Andrew and set up the meeting for eleven. After that, I went through the first few appointments. I did my best to stay focused, but I found myself wondering what Andrew wanted to talk about.

  The call came in at eleven on the dot, and I put it on the main TV in my office. With a press of a button, Andrew’s smiling, tanned face appeared on the screen.

  “There’s the guy!” he said.

  “Morning, Andrew,” I said, leaning back in my chair and weaving my hands behind my head. “What’s up?”

  “First of all,” he said. “Thanks for getting me in, buddy. I know you’re busy as hell over there.”

  “No worries.”

  Then his face turned serious.

  “It’s the show,” he said.

  “What about it?” I asked. Baby in the Penthouse had been a smash hit. Ratings were amazing, and it had been the talk of the entertainment industry for months after it had aired.

  “Well, you know what we’d been talking about for season two, right?” he asked. “New playboy, new baby, new girl.”

  “Right,” I said, wondering where this was going.

  “But here’s the thing—the more focus testing we did, the more we found out that the audience doesn’t want anyone new. They want you
and Heather and Faye back.”

  “Are you serious?” I asked.

  “Serious as it gets,” he said. “And it’s not like Heather’s pregnancy has been a secret. I’ve been talking with Mr. Cohen, and he’s thinking we can bring you back for season two. Two seasons, two babies—it’s perfect.”

  I ran my hand through my hair as I thought the matter over.

  “I don’t know, Andrew,” I said. “We’ve got so much going on these days. I don’t know if we can fit a reality show on top of it.”

  “I get it, I get it,” he said. “But with how much the first season boosted the sales of your baby line, I figured you’d at least like to hear about it.”

  He was right. The Petit Bébé range had been flying off the shelves. The plan had worked perfectly.

  “Anyway,” he said. “I’m just, you know, planting the seed. And if it grows, it grows, right?”

  I smirked. Crazy as it seemed, it actually sounded kind of fun. But I’d have to run it by Heather, of course. After the baby came.

  “I’ll think about it,” I said.

  Andrew clapped his hands together and grinned. “That’s all I wanted to hear,” he said. “Oh, and one more thing…”

  My phone buzzed in my pocket as he spoke. It was a text from Heather.

  “One sec,” I said, holding up my finger to Andrew.

  “Sure, buddy.”

  With eager eyes, I read the text.

  Justin, this is Heather’s mom. We’re on our way to the hospital now. The baby’s coming!

  I nearly dropped my phone.

  The baby was coming. I was about to meet my new son or daughter.

  And I couldn’t wait.

  “Gotta go!” I said, shooting up out of my seat.

  “Whoa, you okay over there?”

  “Baby! Now!” I shot out as I grabbed my things.

  “Holy crap!” he said. “Get on out of here, bud. Go meet that kid!”

  I said my goodbyes and rushed out of the office, leaving surprised coworkers in my wake.

  Soon I was down to my car and behind the wheel. My heart pounded in my chest. I couldn’t believe that it was happening, that the baby was coming so soon.

  It was happening. It was really happening.

  I pulled out of the garage and out onto the street and was immediately greeted with bumper-to-bumper traffic.

  A droplet of sweat formed at my brow.

  All I could think about was whether or not I was going to make it in time.

  Chapter 31

  Heather

  A spasm of pain cracked through me as I lay in the back seat of my dad’s car.

  “Oh my God!” I shouted out, grabbing as hard as I could on to the seats.

  “Is it happening?” asked Mom from the front passenger’s seat. “Is the baby almost here?”

  “Of course, it’s almost here,” Dad said. “What do you think she’s carrying on about back there?”

  “Don’t be snippy,” she said, giving my dad a soft swat on the shoulder.

  “Guys,” I said as the most recent wave of pain died down. “I’m going to need you both to please, please, please calm down.”

  “Sorry, sweetie,” said Mom. “I just hate to see you like this.”

  Dad pulled a hard right, taking us down the road toward the hospital.

  “We’re almost there,” he said. “I can see it.”

  Relief hit me like a cool wave. But I was still in shock at being in labor.

  We were supposed to have time. Justin and I had it all planned out. We had chosen the perfect private clinic—a quiet, calm, upscale place near the penthouse, not some overcrowded hospital.

  But all of those plans looked to be going out the window because this baby was coming now, and it didn’t care that I wasn’t anywhere near the village.

  “Almost there,” said Dad as he pulled closer and closer to the hospital, the immense white building now so near.

  “Pull in!” shouted Mom.

  Dad slowly turned into the parking lot and came to a stop in front of the emergency room doors.

  “A baby’s coming,” shouted Mom. “Need some help!”

  Her call caught the attention of a few nearby staff members, and they quickly came to the car with a wheelchair. Dad got out of the car, opened my door, and helped me out.

  “Did you hear anything from Justin?” I asked as my parents formed up on my sides and the staff wheeled me toward the entrance.

  “He’s stuck in traffic,” Mom said gently. “Said he’s going to get here as fast as possible.”

  A tinge of panic spread out through me. What if he couldn’t make it here in time? What if he missed the birth of our baby?

  I couldn’t think about that now, though—there was nothing I could do about it either way. Right now, I needed to focus on the baby.

  Another contraction hit, the pain so intense I could barely see straight.

  “Ahhh!” I yelled out as the staff pushed me down the fluorescent-lit hallways of the emergency room.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the white-clad figure of a doctor. I turned my head to see that the doctor was a trim, white-haired woman who looked to be around sixty.

  “Hi,” she said. “What’s your name?”

  “H-Heather,” I said, the pain from the contraction fading slightly.

  “I’m Dr. Hart,” she said as we continued on. “And I’m going to make sure this baby gets delivered safe and sound, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said, sweat streaming down my face.

  The staff wheeled me into a birthing suite and helped me up on the table.

  “Justin,” I said in a weak voice. “Where’s Justin?”

  “Is Justin the father?” asked Dr. Hart.

  “Yes,” I said, my breath short. “And he works all the way in the Financial District.”

  “Shoot,” said Dr. Hart. “Is he on his way over?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He knows.”

  “Good. Then all we can do is hope for the best.”

  She was right, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want him there more than anything.

  “Doctor,” I said. “The baby’s not supposed to come for another two weeks. Is that bad? My last baby was right on time.”

  My parents turned their eager attention to Dr. Hart, the other staff swarming all around us and getting the room ready for the birth.

  Dr. Hart spoke in a cool, even tone that put me at total ease.

  “It’s totally fine,” she said. “Sometimes babies are really eager to come out and see the world. It’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Oh thank God,” I said, letting all the air out of my lungs as I spoke the words.

  “Now,” Dr. Hart said. “All I need from you is to relax. We’ll get this little tyke out of you soon, because he really doesn’t seem like he wants to wait.”

  Another contraction hit as Dr. Hart led my parents out of the room. I could feel the baby coming—it was going to happen, and soon.

  And, right at that moment, I heard the three sweetest words I could possibly imagine.

  “The dad’s here!”

  “I want to see him!” I shouted out.

  Justin burst into the room. He was wearing a gown, mask, shoe coverings, and hair covering.

  “Am I in time?” he asked, short of breath. “Are you doing all right, sweetie?” He leaned over and kissed my forehead, taking my hand.

  I let out a big moan as another contraction built up. All I could do was try to smile at him through the pain.

  “You’re just in time,” said Dr. Hart once my legs were propped up and everything was set for the birth. “Okay, Heather, this is going to be one of the fastest births I’ve ever seen, so get ready. When I say ‘push’, I want you to push hard!”

  It was all starting to come back to me from Faye’s birth. I did my best to clear my mind and work through the pain.

  “Push!”

  I did, as hard as I could.

  “Push!”
/>   I grunted, sweat trickling down my forehead.

  “Push! There’s the head!”

  Somehow, the pain intensified even more.

  “Push one more time!”

  I did, pushing out with all my might. I let out a yell, putting every bit of energy I had into it.

  Then I heard the sweetest sound—a baby’s cry—and collapsed back into the bed.

  “What—boy or girl?” I asked trying to catch my breath.

  “It is,” said Dr. Hart over the baby’s wailing, “a beautiful, healthy, strong-lunged little boy.”

  Justin let out a whoop of joy as he squeezed my hand. He wiped my forehead with a cool cloth a nurse had given him.

  A boy. I couldn’t believe it. Faye had a little brother.

  The pain began to subside, and a warm wave of euphoria came over me. I relaxed, listening happily to my baby boy crying, knowing that it meant he was healthy and strong.

  Dr. Hart and the rest of the staff cleaned the two of us up. I eagerly awaited seeing my boy, and when he was ready, Dr. Hart brought him over.

  He was so beautiful I couldn’t help but cry. His skin was a healthy, rosy red and he already had a head of thick, dark hair just like his daddy’s. And when he opened his eyes for the first time, I saw that he had my mint-green eyes.

  “Congratulations,” said Dr. Hart. “Couldn’t have gone any better.”

  “Thank you so much,” I said.

  “My pleasure,” she replied. “Now, I hear your parents are outside eager to meet this little guy. Want me to send them in?”

  “Are you ready?” Justin asked.

  “Please,” I said, holding the baby close, gazing down at him.

  Dr. Hart and the rest of the staff stepped out. Justin and I were alone with the baby for a moment.

  “I can’t believe it,” said Justin. “That’s my boy, my son.”

  I could see a shining film of tears form in Justin’s eyes, which surprised me—I’d never seen him cry before. But, of course, only a single tear managed to trickle down. He quickly wiped it away and composed himself.

  My parents knocked and came in. I was so happy to see them that I could hardly contain it.

  “Oh my God,” said my mom, hurrying to my bedside. “There he is.”

  I held the little baby close, planting a soft kiss on his adorably wrinkly forehead.