Tempting Forever

by Mia Pride

  “Hey, Brent,” I said as I took my feet off the coffee table. “Should I head to the office?”

  “No, everything is fine in the office. All the papers are signed, and a courier delivered them today.”

  This was good news, except now I was worried something was wrong with Monica. Why else would he call? “Is Mon okay? Is something wrong?” I nearly shouted and hopped off the couch, ready to rush toward the door.

  “No, no. She’s fine. Mon has been staying with us a lot lately. She’s had more trouble with Steve. He isn’t giving up and came over to her place more than once, except he is too afraid to enter now, fortunately. We decided she was better off staying here for now.”

  “I changed her locks. Do I need to handle him?” I growled, my protective side roaring to life and wiping away any calm logic I had.

  “Maybe eventually we will both need to handle him. For now, it’s taken care of. I’m calling because... well, I’m inserting myself where I know I don’t belong. But this shit is affecting all of us, and Monica is as bull-headed as they come.”

  I agreed with that sentiment but remained silent, not yet knowing where this conversation was heading.

  “Monica and Crys signed up for birthing classes together. They start tomorrow. I’m going as Crystal’s partner, but I’m not going to be in the fucking room when my sister gives birth. That’s fucked up, even for twins. Crystal plans on being there, but Monica is being a pain in the ass and is determined to prove she can do this shit alone even when she doesn’t have to. I assume you do want to be present at the birth of your son.”

  “Of course, I do,” I replied with an edge. “This shit is killing me, Brent. I want to be there for all of it. I want her here with me. And not just so I can take care of her.”

  “You’re in love with her,” he said, deadpan.

  “I am,” I replied. “You know why I didn’t tell my family right away. It had nothing to do with her, or shame, or regret. The only shame I feel is about my family.”

  “I know, Chris. I’ve met them,” Brent said wryly. “I’ve tried talking to her. I think she is coming to understand. She’s being stubborn at this point. Hormones don’t help.”

  “So, what am I supposed to do? I try to give her space and not be another Steve banging on her door, but she doesn’t answer my calls. If she refuses me during the birth, all I can do is wait outside the room, and that will kill me.”

  “I know. We need to fix this before then. The classes start tomorrow at seven at the community center. Show up. Stand by her side no matter what she says or does. You have a right to be there. She won’t turn you away. I know my sister better than anyone. She’s hurting. This isn’t how she wants it to be, either. But she is prideful, and I don’t blame her after all your parents said to her.”

  “I don’t either. They know the truth now, and I haven’t returned any of my mother’s calls. I’ve never been so done with them in my life. Monica is better than all of them and their society friends combined.”

  “I’m sorry about your family, Chris. Now you have your own family, and you deserve to be happy. You’re a good man. I never thought anyone would be good enough for my sister... but you are. See you tomorrow at seven?”

  “I will be there.” I paused and took a deep breath. “Brent, thank you for calling.”

  “Trust me. I have an interest in all of this. Living with two very pregnant women hasn’t been easy, especially when one of them is my angry twin sister, who is forced to lay around most of the day against her will. Making her happy will vastly improve everyone’s lives,” he murmured. “See you tomorrow.”

  Putting my phone down, I stood from the couch with more determination and hope than I had felt in months. Brent was right. Enough was enough, and I was done waiting for Monica to forgive me or answer the phone. I was never the sort of man who waited for anything to fall in my lap. I decided what I wanted, and I fought like hell until I had it.

  I wanted Monica back—for good, and starting tomorrow, I was going to do everything in my power to make that happen.

  Monica

  SOMEHOW, MY BLACK YOGA pants were able to fit over my ass and belly, but just barely. At 25 weeks pregnant, there was no denying the baby bump I carried, and I had invested in as few maternity clothes as I could possibly get away with, especially since I barely left the house. But soon, even my trusty yoga pants were going to be screaming for mercy.

  Looking at my phone, I frowned when I realized it had been over a day since Chris called me. That was a good thing, right? Isn’t that what I wanted? For him to leave me alone as much as possible unless it was about the baby? But now that he wasn’t messaging me, an ache throbbed deep inside, especially as I prepared to go to a birthing class with my brother and his wife, like a third-wheel loser.

  More and more, I wondered if Chris deserved a chance to explain, especially after all Brent had told me about his family. I still wasn’t happy about how it all happened, but I can understand now why he wasn’t eager to speak with them. His parents weren’t exactly salt of the earth. Every day, I missed Chris. The sound of his voice, the feel of his hand in mine, laughter, conversation, and amazing, mind-blowing sex.

  The more time passed, the less their hurtful words affected me. I felt like I was going through the stages of mourning, and now I was at the point where I could think clearly and reflect on the situation. Chris obviously cared enough to continue to call me, though he hadn’t today or last night, and now I wondered if I had pushed him too far for too long.

  Pulling a soft lavender sweater over my head, I sighed and looked in the mirror, pulling my hair back into a sloppy bun. I was tired, but more than anything, I was bored. Steve continued to show up on my doorstep, sending me messages that he didn’t care if I was pregnant and offering to help raise the child. He was insane if he thought we were ever getting back together again and more insane if he thought I would let him near my baby.

  Normally, I wasn’t one to run from a situation, but if he attempted to break in and force himself on me again, I could lose my baby. Staying with Brent and Crystal had been my best option, but seeing their happiness every day made me feel heartsick. I missed feeling that happy. I missed the man I loved. I miss dreaming about a future with him.

  Grabbing my yoga mat from the closet, I left my room and met Crystal near the front door, feeling empty despite the baby boy kicking me from the inside. “Ready?” I asked with feigned excitement. It was difficult to be happy when I was the third wheel every day. Brent and Crystal never made me feel that way, but it was impossible not to feel alone as I prepared to go to a birthing class without Chris.

  “Yes, on the class part. No, on the birthing part,” Crystal groaned. At 37 weeks pregnant, she was very uncomfortable and nervous about squeezing out a human soon. I wasn’t nearly as big as she was, but I understood the feeling. Every time I looked down and saw my stomach, I mildly freaked out, knowing this kid was coming out of me sooner or later... hopefully, later.

  When we arrived at the community center, I grabbed my yoga mat and climbed out of the car, freezing when I saw Chris standing outside, waiting by the door.

  Turning to look at my brother, I narrowed my eyes knowingly, and he didn’t even bother to lie. “You’ve been unfair to Chris. I’m allowed to meddle when my twin sister is having my best friend’s baby, and she is living with me because she is high risk and unemployed and sad all the damned time. So, do us all a favor and talk to the guy.”

  “Brent!” Crystal smacked him in the shoulder and frowned at him.

  “What? She will thank me later.”

  I huffed, and my breath came out in curly tendrils as the sun hid behind a thick layer of early spring clouds. The parking lot’s black surface sparkled with a fresh layer of rainfall, and I carefully stepped around a large puddle as I hesitantly approached.

  “Hey.”

  His deep voice made my stomach flutter, and I knew it wasn’t the baby this time. “Hi.”

  “I w
ould like to be here for you if that’s all right. I want to be involved, Monica. I want to learn and support you.”

  “I know you do. I want that, too.”

  “You do?” I heard the confusion in his voice, and I couldn’t blame him. I was confused, also. But I missed him, and our time apart gave me more time to think about who I am and what I wanted from life. It also made me realize I tended to push people away to protect myself, but that only hurt me in the long run.

  I wasn’t ready to have a deeper conversation right now, and class started in five minutes. “Yes, and I’m sorry I’ve been intentionally leaving you out of so much. I’m glad you’re here.” It was all I could offer him right now, but Chris seemed happy to take what he could get, and though I would not admit it, I was glad Brent told Chris about the class. It was nice not to be alone.

  “I’m glad to be here, also. Let’s get you out of the cold,” he said when I shivered. I nodded as he opened the door, and I walked through. The room looked like a gym with nearly nothing inside except a circle of pregnant women positioning mats on the smooth polished wood floor with men by their sides.

  “Welcome!” A tall, slender woman stood in the middle of the circle with a long red braid draped over her left shoulder and a genuine smile across her face. “Please have a seat.” Crystal and Brent walked in behind us, and we all found an open spot to unroll our mats before sitting. Brent and Chris kneeled beside us and nodded to the other dads, some looking less than comfortable to be there, but most appearing resigned or even intrigued.

  Looking at the other women, I noticed that most of them were further along in their pregnancy than I was, but I decided it was better to get this over with since Doctor Herrera recommended them, and I had Crystal by my side. Group classes weren’t generally my thing.

  The instructor introduced herself as Lisa before going around the room with quick introductions. After that, she looked at the men, all awkwardly sprawled into different positions, and laughed. “Men never quite know their place in this class, but trust me. You are very vital to the process. Your wife or significant other will need your extra calm and strength to guide her once she goes into labor. I want you to sit behind your partner right now, placing your legs around them, your hands on their bellies.”

  Inwardly, I held my breath, knowing that things were about to get more intimate than expected. Chris straddled me from behind, and his hands slowly glided around my waist before resting on my stomach. Leaning forward, he whispered, “Is this okay?” and a shiver ran up my neck.

  I only nodded, too afraid my voice would quiver if I spoke. It was more than okay. It felt so natural to be back in his arms. I felt safer than I had in weeks. I had done nothing but push him away, and yet here he was, still determined to be a part of this. Some women had to fight to get their baby’s father to be present. I had a wonderful, loving man who wanted this child and wanted me. He wanted to be present. Sighing deeply and letting go of my resentment, I determined to stop pushing him away. I was only making us both miserable. We still had things to discuss, like why he didn’t tell his family about the baby and me and how we would prevent issues with his family in the future. I never wanted to see them again, though I understood a relationship with Chris would make that impossible. I needed to know he had my back and that I wouldn’t be fed to the lions again. As for Samantha, I couldn’t say much, as Chris had to deal with Steve. One battle at a time, I reminded myself.

  “Okay, ladies. I need you to close your eyes, rest your body against your partner, take a deep, inward breath, and exhale slowly.”

  Shifting my bottom, I did as she instructed, feeling Chris’s grip tighten around me. As awkward as this situation was, I enjoyed the feel of him again. After an hour of learning how to control my pain through calming breaths and listening to the instructor answer questions from women much closer to giving birth than I was, Chris helped me to my feet before bending over to roll up my yoga mat. Crystal gave me a knowing look when she caught me checking out his ass, but I just shrugged. No harm in sneaking a peek.

  When we left the warm community center gym, the cold air’s sting slapped my cheeks and made me shiver. Chris moved his arms to embrace me but stopped himself in his tracks. Oddly, I found myself disappointed, craving more of his touch and softening to the idea of a reconciliation.

  “Can we talk for a moment?” Chris asked as Crystal and Brent walked toward the car, purposely leaving us alone.

  “Uh, sure. Though I think only a moment is all we have. Amber is watching Grace, but she needs to get to work. It’s not really her day to watch Grace.”

  “Will you meet me for lunch tomorrow? Let me say my piece. If you still hate me, I promise to stop bothering you unless it involves our son. I want more than that, more for us. But I realize I messed up, and I won’t continue to borderline harass you if there is no chance for us.”

  “I don’t hate you, Chris, and you’re not harassing me... unlike my ex.”

  “What?” he growled, and I cringed. I shouldn’t have said that.

  “Never mind that right now. Yes, I will meet you for lunch tomorrow. A talk is overdue. I take responsibility for that.”

  “Well, my father did liken you to a prostitute. I don’t blame you for being angry.”

  Scoffing, I nodded. “Yeah. He’s not my favorite person.”

  “Nor mine,” Chris replied, taking a step closer. “Thank you for allowing me to stay today and for agreeing to meet with me tomorrow. I will send you a time and place tonight. I just need to check my work calendar.”

  “You’re lucky to have one. My schedule involves laying around on a couch while I watch Grace play with her ever-expanding collection of toy cats.”

  “Sounds great to me, but I know what you mean. See you tomorrow, Mon.” Leaning in, Chris kissed my forehead and walked away, leaving me to watch after him, sighing when he disappeared from view. Though I was hesitant about our lunch date tomorrow, I knew it needed to happen, and it gave me something to look forward to.

  “Coming?” I heard Brent shout from the car’s rolled-down window. “It’s starting to rain!”

  Feeling a drop of water land on my cheek, I looked up just as the sky opened and rain poured down onto my head. Shrieking with excitement, I laughed and ran over to the car, feeling lighter than I had for a long time despite my suddenly waterlogged clothes.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chris

  “MISTER FARRINGTON, there is a man here to see you.” My receptionist called through the intercom, and I looked at my watch. I had to meet Monica in thirty minutes at a café down the street, and I reworked all my appointments to ensure I was on time. “Who is it?”

  “He says his name is Steve, but I don’t have him on your schedule. I insisted he needed to make an appointment, but he insists he has crucial personal information for you.” Her voice grew lower and lower with every word.

  Steve? My mind raced to place the face to the name, but none of my clients went by their first name, and none of them were named Steve. Suddenly, I knew. There was only one Steve who would believe he had personal information for me, though I couldn’t imagine what the man believed he could offer, nor why he was ballsy enough to show up at my business. I could easily have security drag him away and considered just that, but I paused.

  “Let him in,” I directed, tapping my fingers on the desk with repressed anger mixed with curiosity. I wanted to pummel the guy, but time wouldn’t allow it. I refused to be late for my lunch with Monica because her ex had a bone to pick.

  Within a moment, my office door opened, and I saw a tall man with light hair standing beside my assistant, who looked as curious as I felt. I knew the man’s face. The last time I saw him, he was hovering over Monica in bed before I punched his lights out. That had been months ago, and according to a brief comment Monica made yesterday, the man had not given up his pursuit.

  “Come on in,” I said calmly, motioning to one of two chairs in front of my desk. Steve did as I asked
and silently stared at me with a glint in his eye that I had seen all too often. The man was plotting something and hoped to gain financially from it. Keeping a neutral expression, I folded my hands on my desk and leaned forward. “How was jail?”

  Steve smirked at me. “I was out on bail within an hour.”

  “Of course, you were.” Monica should have pressed charges against the bastard. He may not have assaulted her, but he certainly crossed a line and likely intended to cross other boundaries had he not been stopped.

  “I have a meeting soon. What brings you here?”

  “I won’t keep you. I come on some business of my own.”

  Raising a brow, I eyed the man. “Oh? You have a business that requires financial backing?”

  “I believe Monica’s baby is mine.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I popped my knuckles and slowly stood from my seat, no longer willing to listen to the man.

  “Is that all?” I asked in the calmest voice possible, yet a hint of rage tinged my tone. I had yet to murder anyone in my office and didn’t wish to smudge my perfect record.

  “No. That’s not all. Monica and I were together the night of Brent’s wedding. I’m not sure when you two hooked up, but I think she wasn’t sure who the father was and decided to pin it on the man with the most to offer financially. That’s why I’ve been insistent on coming around. I’m not a stalker, just a man who wants access to what is mine: that child.”

  “I see.” Alarm bells rang in my ears, but I did my best to hide my flaring temper. I didn’t trust a single word coming out of Steve’s mouth. If it was his word against Monica’s, I would take hers any day of the year. I knew Monica well enough to know that she would never betray me in this way. She was fiercely independent and would never rely on a man, even though I’ve tried to care for her many times. In fact, until our birthing class, she did everything to avoid me. Those are not the actions of a woman seeking a man’s fortune. I had plenty of experience with such women, and Monica was not one of them.