by C. Lesbirel
“Trust me, I know because that’s exactly how I feel. Being in this alone is no fun.”
“Hey, you’re not alone. You have a twin, remember? You’ll never be in anything alone, even if you want to be.”
“Well, neither are you. Now go and get this thing straightened out. The Sully I know and love would already be calling the shots. It’s not like you to hold back.”
I’ve no idea when my sister became the sensible one out of the two of us, but as I tell her I love her and end the call, I know that everything she said is right.
Everyone knows women rarely ever say what they mean, especially pregnant women. Okay, so I’d never wanted kids, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want this one.
This is totally different.
Hope becoming pregnant changes everything… for both of us.
I make my way back to the windmill with wide strides, needing to get back to her as quickly as possible and so lost in my own thoughts that I don’t see her come running towards me at full speed.
“I’m sorry!”
“Slow down.” There’s no way she should be running around like a mad woman when she’s carrying my child.
“What?” she shouts back.
“Stop running! Pregnant people don’t run.” Not sure if that’s a fact, but it totally should be. Also, not sure how exactly I’m going to pin her ass down for the next nine months, but I know I need to.
When she reaches me, it’s clear from her smudged mascara that she’s been crying, and I don’t resist when she wraps her arms around me. Just like I should have done in the first place, I envelop her in a hug and reassure her that everything is going to be okay, even if I’m not sure how yet.
“I shouldn’t have told you like that.”
“It’s fine, but you got to stop thinking I’m some kid who can’t handle myself. What will it take for me to make you see that I’ve got you?”
“That’s just it. You don’t have to have my back, I’m honestly and completely okay with taking care of this baby on my own.”
“You won’t need to.”
“You’re not thinking this through properly. I know you keep saying your age doesn’t matter, but the fact is, it does matter. Maybe not to you, but to everyone else.”
“I couldn’t give a fuck about anyone else. I’m here for you and for our baby. If that’s what you want.”
Her eyes glitter with golden highlights as she stares back at me with a blank expression and bites down on her inner lip.
“Of course it’s what I want, but it will never work. This isn’t about what I want. It’s not even about what you want, it’s about what’s best for the baby. Our baby. I know you’re trying to do the right thing, and I admire the shit out of you for it. We can’t just be together for the sake of a baby. We’ll end up fighting and breaking up, and that’s no good for a child.”
“What if I am not doing this for the baby? What if I’m doing it for me and for you? For all three of us? And what if we don’t fight? What if we just take a chance and figure this whole thing out together as we go?”
28
Hope
“What if we both end up getting hurt?” It’s a valid question, and the more I play out our relationship in my mind’s eye, the more I can see all of the reasons why it won’t work.
“What if we don’t? What if you're everything I ever wanted, and I’m hopelessly, outrageously and completely in love with you?” He’s yelling now, frustration evident in his strained tone and fresh tears spring in the corners of my eyes as I shake my head.
“You don’t mean that,” I accuse him, my voice escaping as a hoarse whisper, and even as I say the words, I don’t believe them.
I don’t know how or when it happened, but what I do know about Sullivan Parker is that he’s not the type of guy to say things he doesn’t mean.
“You know that’s not true,” he murmurs back.
“You’re in love with me?”
“Completely,” he replies without hesitation, and the tears I’ve been fighting back begin to roll down my cheeks.
“I’m sorry. I get in my head so much sometimes; it’s hard to see what’s right in front of me.”
“I know. But I’m not going anywhere.”
Doing the only thing in the world that makes sense right now, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him so hard that my heart skips a beat, and the entire world around us disappears. The figuring out can wait. The rest of the world can wait. All that matters right now is that I’m here with a man who loves me and is willing to stand by me.
When he pulls back, he takes my hand, and we begin walking back to the windmill together and united.
There’s still a tension in the air with all of the questions we both need answered hanging between us.
Sullivan speaks up first. “I can’t believe you’re pregnant. How long have you known? How far along are you?”
“Since I fainted on my last tour date. They tested my blood at the hospital, and it showed up there.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“Simon knows,” I confirm.
“You told Simon before you told me?” He glances across at me as we continue walking and arches a disapproving brow.
“No, he guessed.”
“Is that what you were arguing about when I got to Paris? Didn’t you say he was there just before I arrived?”
“Yes. He wasn’t exactly elated about the news.”
“What did he say?”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
“It matters to me, Hope. We have to be honest with each other if this is going to work, and you were all riled up when I got there. I want to know why.”
“I think he just assumed I wouldn’t want to keep the baby.”
Sullivan stops walking and grabs my arm, pulling me around to face him.
“Did he put pressure on you to get rid of our baby?”
“No. It was more of a suggestion,” I mumble, not sure why I’m protecting Simon when he has done nothing to deserve it.
“I’ll fucking kill him.”
“You don’t need to, he’s out of the picture now. I fired him, and he won’t say anything about the baby because he still wants me on his side. I make him a hell of a lot of money, and I’m still signed to his label for a sixth album.”
“Like shit you are. There’s no way in hell he’s making another dime off of you.”
“It’s not that straight forward, Sullivan. The contract I signed with them is watertight, believe me. I’ve read it and reread it a thousand times.”
“Can you get me a copy?”
“There’s really no point.”
“Just get me a copy, please. I’ll have our legal team look over it, there’s always a loophole in there somewhere, it’s just a case of finding it.”
“Okay. I don’t think they’ll find anything I haven’t already, but I guess it won’t do any harm. Let’s not think about work now, there’s so many more important things to figure out.”
We reach the windmill and climb the winding staircase that just hours earlier we’d been making out on. Now everything is different, and I don’t have any of the answers both of us need. Sullivan telling me he’s in love with me changes nothing, yet at the same time, changes everything.
I don’t know how he can be so confident in his feelings in such a short span of time when I don’t have a clue about mine.
Do I get butterflies when he kisses me? Of course I do, the guy's lips could melt iron; his kisses are so hot. And yes, my stomach somersaults every time he looks my way with his dreamy dark eyes that penetrate straight to my soul. But, I’m also fully aware that love and lust are two fundamentally different concepts.
One makes total sense while the other scatters the pieces of my organized and in control jigsaw into a million pieces, making it impossible to put together again.
“Shall we talk things through and make a plan, or something?”
“A plan?”
“Yeah. That’s what preg
nant people do, right? Eat and make plans?”
His blasé attitude causes me to smile. “I think the planning ship has sailed for us.”
“Fair point. But I’m just saying. Just because this has come as a shock, it doesn’t mean we can’t do things properly. Maybe we can go online and order a stroller or something.”
I throw a condescending brow in his direction, and he groans in frustration.
“What’s wrong with shopping?”
“Nothing. Shopping is fine, and I love how excited you are about this, but I think I have some catching up to do. I’m still getting used to the idea that I’m going to have a baby.”
“We. We are going to have a baby,” he corrects.
“You’re right. Sorry. See what I mean, still wrapping my head around things.”
“But you're happy, right?”
His eyes are wide and pleading. He wants me to be as excited about this as he is, and, in some ways, I am, at least about the baby. But there’s still a lot of thinking to do about my relationship with the too-good-to-be-true man. Even though I’d love to tell him everything he wants to and probably deserves to hear, I’m just not there yet. I don’t know if I ever will be.
“Of course, I’m happy. I’m scared as hell at the thought of having a little mini me to take care of, but I’m excited too. I’m glad that it's you who’s the father.”
“Not as fucking glad as I am.” He smooths a hand over his mouth and chin in exaggerated relief causing me to giggle in response.
29
Sullivan
“You don’t look happy. You look stressed to death. Get on over here.” I pat my thigh needing to feel close to her again and hating this weird mood she’s in.
“Why are you handling all of this so well? I’m like a nervous fucking wreck.”
“I think it’s to do with our jobs.” I shrug as she takes the seat next to me on the sofa, and I grab hold of her legs, pulling them over my own.”
“Our jobs?” She looks confused yet intrigued at the same time.
“Yeah. I’m a pilot. I’m used to having to be cool, calm and collected. You’re a country singer. You have to be all dramatic and up in your emotions. In fact, you should totally write a song about all this, it might help you process things better.”
“I am not all dramatic and emotional.” She pouts, and I say nothing but raise a knowing brow in her direction. When she shoves me in the ribs, I take the opportunity to catch her hands and place them over my dick.
“What are you doing.” She pulls back, laughing now.
“We don’t need to worry about getting you pregnant, so I say we should make the most of it.”
I throw a hopeful glance in her direction, and she looks away before a wistful glint consumes her hazel eyes.
“You really have got to stop being so nice to me.”
“Nice. Not what I was going for, but okay.”
“It’s just, you’re so sure. About the baby. About me. I don’t want to mess this up, and I do really care about you, but shit, we only met a short while ago and you’re saying you're in love with me? I’m just not there yet, and I don’t know if I will ever be.”
I gulp down hard but refuse to believe the crap that’s coming out of her mouth.
“That’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.”
“The way I see it, in life you can either be the passenger or the pilot.”
“I’m more like the fucking plane crash.” She rolls her eyes, and I take hold of her hand again, this time pulling it to my lips and kissing her palm.
“I’ll never let you crash and burn, golden girl. I told you, I’ve got you.”
“Even if I don’t get you back?” she asks and resists the temptation to feel crushed by the question.
“Either way. I’m not going to stop being in love with you just because you’re not there yet. You do you, and I’ll stay on my own runway. I’m not asking for anything from you, other than you give me a chance to show you everything that we could be.”
“Like a trial period?”
“Whatever you want to call it. If you’re not in love with me by the time the baby comes, we can go ahead and separate. I’ll still be there for the baby and to support you with everything you need. This way you don’t have to worry about the kid seeing us argue or break up later down the line. We’ll either break up or be happy together. Just so you know, I’ll still be in love with you either way, that’s a given. I’ve never felt surer of anything more than how I feel about you.”
She pauses before answering, shuffling herself around so she’s facing me and looking me square in the eyes.
“I can’t promise you much, but I do promise that I’ll give us a proper chance because I really want to see where this thing takes us. You make me feel things I’ve never felt before too.”
“So, I’ve got seven months to make you fall in love with me? I better get a move on.” I smirk and pull her in for a kiss, and she doesn’t resist. She might not think she’s going to catch feelings, but her kiss says fucking differently.
Within seconds it turns into something more. As though we’ve suddenly found a common language that’s way easier to communicate than words.
Slowly and with a gentleness I didn’t know I was capable of, I undress her, and by the time the night is through, there isn’t an inch of her body that I haven’t licked, stroked or sucked. She’s so responsive; this has to mean more than just sex, whether she’s willing to admit it or not.
We’re still awake when day breaks, both blissfully shattered and lost in our own thoughts. Her naked body is wrapped around mine, and I draw circles on her bare shoulder as we stay in silence.
“I could lie here forever,” I murmur into her silky hair.
“Me too,” she whispers back, and I stop drawing circles to wrap my arm around her until I’m practically squishing her in a tight embrace.
Turning to face me, she asks, “Are you ready to take on the rest of the world?”
“I think it’s more a case of are they ready for us.”
“Well, I know my parents aren’t. This is the first time I’ve been home in such a long time that I’m beginning to forget what they look like.”
She untangles her leg from between mine and rolls onto her back, so she’s lying next to me, staring up at the high ceiling.
“I’m excited to meet them.”
“What?” She flies up to a sitting position. I smile at her freaked-out expression. It’s one I’m quickly getting used to seeing, and it’s kind of ironic that for someone who thinks they have everything under control, she spends so much of her time stressing out.
“That’s a bad idea. Let me speak with them first and explain that I’m seeing someone, they are a little old school when it comes to men and me.”
“Families are hard, I get it. But I always say to Shiloh, ‘with big news, it’s always best to just rip it off like a Band-Aid.’”
Slapping her hands over her face, which I think is an acknowledgement that I’m right, she peeps at me from between two v shapes made with her fingers.
“You really want to meet my parents?”
“Yeah. It’ll be fun. They’re going to be the grandparents to my baby, so the sooner we get the introductions out of the way, the better.”
30
Hope
If it had been up to me, we would have locked ourselves away in the windmill for the next seven months and ignored the rest of the world. My parents. My fans. Real life. I wanted to run from it all, but Sullivan is right. This is happening, and I need to get a grip of the situation and become the pilot. I’ve been a passenger for far too long.
I would have loved to see more of the Netherlands, but suddenly, it felt like there was no time to waste. Like I’d checked out on my own life for long enough, and I need to reconnect with it.
Sullivan flew us back to America and insisted I sleep for most of the journey. I’d tried to argue and spent some time with him in the cockpit, but aft
er a while, I had to give in to my body that was completely exhausted from worry and lack of sleep. Weirdly, the bed on the plane was more comfortable than most others I’ve slept in recently, and I didn’t have any problems falling to sleep after I reluctantly agreed to try and nap for an hour.
Now we’re here on my parent’s front porch, and although I’ve text to say I’m coming home, I didn’t say I’d be bringing a plus one. So, I have no idea how they are going to react.
I don’t have to wait long to find out because my mom comes running towards us like a shrieking banshee.
“Well, would you look who it is in the flesh. My baby girl! Hope, I’ve been so worried.” She throws her arms around me, and I relax for a second. As much as I never look forward to coming home, I always feel better when I do. There’s something so uplifting and grounding about being around your parents in the same home you grew up in. The setting strips away all of the things you’ve done, good or bad, and reminds you of who you were in the first place.
“I’ve missed you too, Mom,” I admit, holding her close and inhaling the smell of freshly baked bread on her hair.
“And who’s this hunk of a man?” She pulls back and eyes Sullivan up and down.
Before I can answer, he holds out his hand for her to shake. “Sullivan Parker, ma’am.”
“Oh please, it’s Beth. Call me Beth.”
Oh God, she’s flirting. My mom is literally batting her lashes at my man. Not how I saw this going at all.
“It’s good to meet you, Beth. I’m excited to be in Nashville.”
“Please, come on in. Your dad’s out back; you know what he’s like with that darn vegetable patch.”
A light chuckle escapes my lips, and I glance across to Sullivan who’s smiling too. He doesn’t exactly fit in around here. Even in his casual cargo shorts and navy polo shirt he has this way of looking suave and unnaturally delicious. I don’t blame my mom for noticing, she couldn’t help it.
We step inside and Mom guides us through the kitchen to the decking outside where Dad stops what he’s doing as soon as he sees us.