by Frankie Love
“What?” I turn to her, trying to understand. “Nicolette wasn’t born until two years after your wedding.”
“I lost the baby, but not until after he had proposed. I always wonder, though, would he have married me if I had never been pregnant?”
“Would you have wanted to?” I ask her. Because this can’t all be about Brent.
She shrugs. “I don’t know, Stella. And maybe that is why I’m such a cynic, so matter of fact about life, and children, and marriage. It is what it is; my choices were never about romantic love. It was about being practical.”
Listening to my sister is hard. Wilder made my heart soar, my body expand. He made me feel beautiful and courageous and capable. When he looked at me I felt like he saw me, but I’ll also never know if he would want me if I wasn’t carrying his baby.
“We should go inside,” Anna tells me. “You can’t miss the ultrasound.”
I give her a hug once we’re on the sidewalk. “I’m sorry you’ve gone through so much alone, I had no idea, Anna.”
“I know, I kept my cards close.” She smiles, but it falters. “You aren’t going through this alone, though, Stella. I’m here.”
We walk into the clinic, and for the first time in my life, I’m glad she’s by my side.
On the ultrasound table, the technician runs a wand over my exposed belly. We hear the thump, thump, thump of a heartbeat, and Stella grip my hand in hers.
“That’s the baby?” I ask.
The tech shakes her head, eyes narrowed in on the screen. “No, that one is your heartbeat,” she says slowly. “Hmm, give me a sec.” She squints at the machine as if it is going to speak to her.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, suddenly scared. The pregnancy was a surprise, of course, but my heart is already wrapped around this little life. I blink back tears, thinking of my sister’s loss, and how she experienced it all alone.
Am I going to lose something too? Is that why the tech won’t look at me?
“What’s wrong?” I say more frantic this time.
Suddenly the room is filled with a heartbeat -- a heartbeat that is not my own.
“Is that the baby? Is the baby okay?” I ask.
“No,” the tech says still staring at the screen.
“What?” I cover my mouth with my hands.
The tech turns toward me now and smiles. “The baby isn’t okay. But the babies are. Congratulations,” she says pointing to the monitor where two embryos are now visible. “You’re having twins.”
Chapter Thirteen
Wilder
I regret leaving like I did, I regret not fighting, not trying harder to get her to realize I’m in this with her.
But hell, I’m one man, doing the best job I can. And while I’d love to make Stella my whole world, the truth is, she’ll never have my entire heart. It’s already divided by four. She shares it with our baby and the twins.
And while I’d love to hear her voice, right now this mountain has my attention.
She has called, after our night at the Davenport, so there’s that. I’ve spoken to her once a week, for the past month, but the conversations have been stilted, impersonal, stating the only fact she seems to want to offer, that she and the baby are doing well.
It’s almost as if she’s scared to say something real. And that’s a feeling I can understand. It’s almost like we both know that once we start telling one another the things we think and feel there will be no going back.
Since she doesn’t offer more, neither do I. And the fact that a film crew is going to be here for the next month doesn’t even come up.
Our conversations are nothing like they were when we were face-to-face, in one another’s arms.
It makes me need to see her again.
Soon.
The first call I got from her was after her ultrasound, she sounded nervous, overwhelmed, but she said she was just calling to let me know that she was healthy, that the baby was healthy, and that once her job settled down in six weeks, she would come see me.
That she wanted to see me.
That gave me hope.
And damn, I’ve held on to it.
“You gonna be able to handle this, Dean?” Jaxon asks, coming up behind me, where a crew has been prepping us for the last twenty-four hours.
“I’m good, I just wonder what this crew thinks there are gonna get in terms footage. With our filthy mouths, they’re gonna have to bleep out ever other goddamned word.”
Jaxon laughs. “We’ll make sure Buck gets the most screen time.”
In the distance I see Buck grinning like a fool as a crew interviews him for the behind the scenes footage. The property we are on is going to be his and Rosie’s home, and the show is going to film us building it.
For the next four weeks.
A woman pokes her head out of the trailer behind us. With a make-up brush in hand, she waves to me. “You’re up, Wilder, we’ve got to get these shots before the day’s out.”
Jaxon grins. “They gotta put makeup on you to make to look like less of a fucking scrub.”
The woman raises an eyebrow. “You’re next, hotshot.”
Several hours later, the entire entourage is assembled for the photo shoot. Jax, Harper, and their kids. Buck, Rosie, and theirs. And the twins and me. The TV show wants to get photos of us for promotional materials, apparently, we’re a fucking gold mine, and more than once the producer Janice asks if I’d be interested in being the next Bachelor.
What the fuck do they think?
“The babies are so cranky,” Rosie laments after we’ve smiled, posed, and done our fucking part for sixty minutes.
Rosie’s trying her best to keep her cool while a baby whimpers in her arms and the twins start crumbling crackers in their hands, but she’s done and not making any apologies. “We’ve been out here for an hour. You’ve gotta tell them we’re melting, Buck.”
He nods at his wife, taking the baby from her arm. “Okay, darling, we’ll tell them we need to wrap things up for the day.”
“Thanks, love,” Rosie breaths, already relaxed with her husband’s simple response.
My jaw tenses as I adjust Briar on my hip. Wondering what it would be like to have someone around to help lighten the load.
As Buck goes over to the crew, Harper asks if I’ve heard from Stella lately.
“No, she seems very busy with her job. I just wish I had more details, but hell, I don’t even know where she’s working right now.”
“She travels a lot for her work?” Harper asks.
“Yeah, she has some new job. But we don’t talk very long when she calls. I think we’re saving everything we want to say for when we’re together.”
“Huh.” Harper raises an eye.
Jaxon laughs. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna need to give Dean a little more than that.”
“It’s strange, isn’t it, that she’s being so... vague?”
I run my hands over my beard. “Harper, the whole thing is vague. Only one thing I know certain.”
“What’s that?” Jax asks.
“That whenever she shows up, I’m not letting her walk away without knowing I’ll do anything to be her man.”
“Look at you,” Buck says, walking toward us, the producer shouting at the crew, telling them that it’s a wrap. “This woman got you all tied up after a few days together.”
“Not even days,” I say, shaking my head. “Hours. And of course, she did, she’s the mother of mu child.”
“A woman?” Janice asks, coming up behind me. “You have a woman on the side? And a child?”
I shake my head. “No, ma’am. No woman. Buck’s being a fool.”
She narrows in on me. “What aren’t you saying?”
Rosie laughs, her hands full of worn-out toddlers. “That his woman Stella Saint Claire needs to get her booty here, and soon.”
My head whips to Rosie.
She covers her mouth, real fast. “Oops. Sorry. It’s been a long day.”
“Stella Saint Claire?” Janice looks at me confused. “That’s your... girlfriend?”
“No,” I tell her, adamant about keeping Stella away from this cast and crew. “She is the mother of my child, and the truth is, I want to keep our personal life separate from this show.” My voice must be direct enough that she gets my point because she drops it.
“Okay,” she says waving her hands. “Tomorrow you break ground on the house at six a.m. You all need to be here, in wardrobe by five. Understood?”
“Roger that,” Buck says. “Now, let’s go back to Jaxon’s place for some beers before Dean here starts whining about being outed.”
I don’t mind being outed. Hell, I’d let the whole world know Stella is my woman... but before I tell the entire show, I need to tell her.
She is the one I want.
I skip out on the drinks, wanting to get the twins to bed so I can work on figuring out what kind of life I can offer Stella.
I know it needs to be fucking good to get her to stay.
A few weeks later Buck and Rosie’s cabin is coming together. The crew films us as we move lumber with sweat rolling off our back, down our chests. We’re filmed as we put up walls, shingle the roof, lay down flooring.
They make sure to catch our conversations, wanting personal interviews about how Jax and Harper fell in love, how Buck and Rosie met. They want to hear me explain what happened to make me a father to my brother’s children.
It’s more personal than I expected when we agreed to do the show but I can see our story is too good to pass. All these babies make for good TV.
Janice is talking us through the next phase of the project.
“So the designer will be here today, with her crew.” At this, the producer looks pointedly at me. “And we’re going to have Wilder meet her outside the cabin to give her a tour. She already has seen the floor plans and put together the design plan, and it will be integrated over the next two weeks. You’re in good hands. She did a show in Tampa, and then the last two weeks she has been in Kentucky. But she’s a Seattle girl, so she’s happy to get closer to home.”
“Really?” Buck asks. “Shouldn’t Rosie be the one to meet her?”
I nod, it makes the most sense. Rosie is the one who filled out the questionnaires about her interior preferences, color choices, what furniture she wanted for the kids, all that. I have no fucking clue about any of it.
“Right,” Janice says slowly. “I think having a builder walk her though the project will be most interesting in terms of footage. Trust me, I’ve done this before. And tell Rosie not to worry. She’ll spend the next few weeks with our designer finalizing things.”
A few hours later I’m telling my crew of landscapers how to pave the front walkway, when the producer tells me to get to the driveway, to meet the designer.
“This is the shot we want,” she says, waving me over with an intensity that doesn’t match the moment. “Get over, here, Wilder.”
“Hold your horses woman.” I shake my head, adjusting the mic pack on my back. “I’m coming.”
I walk down the driveway of freshly dried concrete and see a black town car roll up, covered in dust and dirt. Who the hell decided to drive this ridiculous car up the mountain?
Before I can make a joke about it though, the door opens, and out steps a woman.
But not just any woman.
My woman.
Stella is here.
Chapter Fourteen
Stella
I never asked Dean Wilder explicitly where he lived. But I knew it was Idaho. I knew he built houses. Still, I never imagined he would be starring in the show I was working on.
As we pull up in the town car, and I see him walk across the drive toward me, a million thoughts rush through my mind at once.
The first being, damn he looks good. Sweat on his brow, his hair pushed back from his forehead, his flannel shirt unbuttoned revealing skin I am longing to touch. Taste.
The second thing I think is why have I been so stupid??
I thought by biding my time I was giving myself a chance to figure things out. I wanted to finish the show, get some cash in my bank account so I’d have a plan of my own, and then come here and meet Dean.
Then I’d tell him that we weren’t just having one baby, that we were having two. I didn’t feel like saying that information over the telephone. Especially knowing he already had so much on his plate.
And knowing that I am carrying two of his children would just cause him to want me to show up here sooner. Or force him to come find me before I was ready.
Because yes, the moment I heard those two heartbeats, saw the faces of our two babies on the ultrasound screen, I knew I would tell Wilder everything. But, I don’t want to be dependent on him.
The show will pay me thousands of dollars. Money I don’t have and I don’t want to ask my parents for. So I made a decision, but even as I did, my sister Anna looked in my eyes and shook her head.
She thought my choice was foolish, selfish. That Dean deserved to know that he had two children in the world. Two children with his DNA growing within my womb.
I didn’t tell him. But I took a step forward and called him. His voice on the phone sounded distant and detached.
Part of me understood why he would sound that way. I had offered him nothing when he was willing to give me everything. Of course, he was protecting his heart. I haven’t exactly shown him he could trust me with it.
But now, as I drive up and see him here, not expecting it at all, everything within me flip-flops.
What are the odds of me coming to his house like this? I know the names of the people I am designing for. Buck and Rosie. Those aren’t names that you could forget. And their names were on all the paperwork when I was placing orders and reading questionnaires.
Dean Wilder was never mentioned … but this house isn’t his, though.
Just yesterday I was in Kentucky working on a house in the middle of nowhere. Another cabin, but it was green grass and rolling hills, not deep in the woods with massive cedar trees looming overhead. That job was different. That job didn’t have Dean.
This entire thing is an insane coincidence. Is it crazy to believe it might be destiny?
I open the door, knowing I can’t just sit in here, and really, I don’t want to. I want to see Wilder.
Have him look at me. And for me to look at him and the both of us to have a chance to see if this could be something.
I open the door; slide out. My feet are on the ground. I close my eyes, open them. There’s no going back. Shutting the door behind me, I turn to face the father of my children.
“Holy fucking Christ.”
I shake my head, Wilder is not pulling any punches. He is as shocked as I am. Good. This wasn’t some setup he orchestrated.
“What in the world?” he asks, trying to figure out what’s going on as cameras swarm around us.
The plan the producer Janice gave me said I was to arrive and get a tour of the property with one of the cast members of the show.
Wilder looks at me, his mouth set in a tight line. “I’m supposed to give the designer a tour. That you?” His eyes narrow in on me, his arms crossed.
“I’m the designer, but I had no idea... Wilder... You... Here? I’m so confused.”
The camera comes closer still and I turn so my back faces it, not exactly wanting this footage to be on television. Maybe Anna was right -- being on a reality TV show was all about concocting a staged surprise. The surprise today is me showing up here, unannounced.
“Can you get that away from us,” I ask the cameraman.
He shakes his head, dropping the camera from the shoulder to address to us. “Producers orders, I’m supposed to get everything you to say.”
“Do they know about me? Did you know about this?” I ask Wilder. Did he set me up? There’s no way. Is there?
“I had no idea you were coming here. No idea you were even working on a TV show. Shit, Stella. The last thing I want is the
mother of my child caught up in this circus when she doesn’t want to be.”
“Buck and Rosie, are they your friends or are you on the show as just a crew member?” I ask, trying to get my head around what he is doing here.
“They’re my friends, closest people I know. This is the reason I was in Seattle the night we met. I was checking out the contract, meeting producers. Making sure they would be a good fit to bring into our mountain.”
“And you must have decided it was.”
“Yeah, Rosie and Buck, and all their babies--they need a house.”
“All their babies?”
“Yeah, some people might call this place the fertile mountain.” His eyebrows raise. “Seems the men here know how to get their women pregnant. Jaxson, Harper, they had triplets. My brother had twins. Buck has twins plus a baby girl. It’s kind of joke, but also the hook for the show.”
“Twins? Triplets.” I feel faint. That’s a lot of babies. I put my hand to my belly protectively. And now there are going to be even more babies.
“Dammit, Stella.” Wilder runs his hands through his hair. “I knew you were a designer but I didn’t know you were gonna be here and now I’m trying to think it all through.”
“Me too,” I admit. “Honestly, I can’t really believe we’re both here, like this. It feels too good to be true. Doesn’t it?”
Wilder exhales, then asks, “Baby, I never even asked. Are you tired? Need something to drink?” He rests his hand on the small of my back and begins leading me toward the house.
“I’m fine, a little tired, but that’s nothing new.” I stop walking, not really wanting to keep anything from this man. The man whose patience seems unending. “Wilder, we need to talk.”
“We sure do. I have plenty of things I need to tell you.”
“No, Wilder I need to tell you things first.”
“What things?”
I look around, the camera still on us and I shake my head. I don’t want everything I say to Wilder to be caught on tape.