Roomie Wars Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Kat T. Masen

  “Dr. Baldwin, I understand you’re a trained surgeon, but you need to step out. Let them help your wife, your sons need you.”

  Even in my panicked state, the nurses suggest I feed the babies a bottle. Without Zoey by my side, I’m reluctant to do anything, but I have no choice. My sons need me, and the nurses constantly reassure me that the worst is over—they’ve managed to stop the bleeding, and Zoey simply needs some time to recover.

  A few hours later after a feed, burp, and diaper change—still running on adrenalin—Zoey is wheeled out of recovery and into a private room.

  “Hey there.” I stand up, barely able to hold back the tears from the overwhelming emotion. “How are you feeling?”

  “Sore,” she smiles, faintly. “I want to hold the babies.”

  Caressing her hair away from her face, I lift Oliver out of his plastic cot and into Zoey’s arms, following the same with Henry.

  My heart is hammering, full of love and adoration for this woman. She carried our boys, brought them into this world, and still had to endure trauma afterward. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Zoey this content, deeply gazing at her sons in awe.

  “I love you, Mommy.”

  Her tired laugh is soft. “That’s new. If I call you Big Daddy, is that weird?”

  Leaning in, I kiss her lips, sitting beside her as we both stare at our sons.

  “I nearly lost you,” I mention, keeping my voice low and reliving the pain. “I don’t know what I would have done—”

  “Shush…” she murmurs. “I’m here, and you didn’t lose me. No way can I leave the three of you.”

  I place my lips on top of her head willing that trapped tear to escape. Never underestimate the power of your soulmate. Just when I think I have to be the strong one to carry us through this hardship, she surprises me with her own strength.

  And it’s exactly what I need at this moment

  ***

  The first few days are a blur. The babies refuse to settle, and when Zoey feeds one, burps, changes his diaper, and places him down to sleep, the other needs the exact same treatment.

  Zoey’s exhausted and struggles with her movements. She vents her frustration, buzzing for the nurse whenever she needs to, battling with needing help and unsure how to feed the babies.

  I help her as much as I can. Zoey’s milk supply is short, and given the babies’ appetites, we top them off with formula. At first, Zoey’s reluctant given one of older nurse’s pep talk on the benefits of breastfeeding. I don’t argue that, yet I know my kids are hungry, and her supply isn’t enough.

  “This is all types of weird. I feel like a human experiment. Do you see the size of these things?” Zoey winces as Oliver latches on.

  “Yes. Hard not to. How are your nipples?”

  “They hurt. I think they’re cracked.”

  “I read that continuing to breastfeed will help the nipples heal.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Know It All.” She laughs.

  Family and friends are desperate to visit. By day two, Lucille has been twice. The first time, bringing Bob and a bunch of balloons and flowers. The second time she brought home-cooked meals. She refuses for Zoey to be subjected to hospital food.

  Whenever she came, I’d make a quick trip home to shower, sleep a few hours, and get the nursery ready as much as I can. Due to Zoey’s impromptu labor our bags were left at the resort, and we didn’t have time to collect them nor finish the nursery. Thankfully, Mia and Troy have done all that for us. Troy collected our bags, and Mia got everything washed, sterilized, and ready for the babies to come home.

  According to Zoey, things are much better between Mia and Troy. They’re attending marriage counselling to work through their marital issues and have booked a family vacation to visit Greece. A toddler on a plane for sixteens hours? Good luck to them.

  For extra precaution, the hospital wants Zoey to stay for five days.

  By day four, the baby blues have well and truly kicked in, and Zoey’s a complete mess.

  “I stink. I’m so tired, and Henry won’t stop crying,” Zoey sobs uncontrollably the second I walk in the room.

  It is common for hormones to be out of whack after giving birth, and Zoey is no exception to this. I do my best to support her, but many of her frustrations stem from her difficulty in feeding the babies.

  She needs rest, and with Lucille dropping by on her usual lunch route, we take the babies around the hospital for a walk so Zoey can sleep without interruption.

  We opt to take a seat outside the small garden where many patients gather for sunshine and fresh air.

  “Zoey tells me you’ve been offered a job in Australia,” Lucille raises the topic, much to my surprise. “You know, Drew, Bob and I love you very much. You’re the best thing to happen to Zoey.”

  I’m not sure what to say, but given it’s a compliment, I simply thank her.

  “Bob’s retired now, and he’s getting bored. I want to tell you if you move to Australia, we can come and help. Our boys are old enough now, and a change in scenery wouldn’t be so bad.”

  “You’d move to Australia?”

  Lucille is the spitting image of Zoey only thirty years older. They have the exact same eyes. Uncanny, really.

  “We wouldn’t move per se because of visas and so forth, but we can have extended holidays whenever you need us. In fact, we’ve already been looking on the internet. There’s one place that Bob loves near a river, of course… a small holiday home and the perfect place for him to go fishing.”

  Since our argument on the marina, I still haven’t raised the topic with Zoey, but I’m surprised to learn she’s discussed this with Lucille.

  “Lucille, with all due respect, I wouldn’t get too excited. Zoey isn’t keen on the idea, and my focus needs to be on my family.”

  “I understand,” she tells me in a gentle tone. “We’re here to support your family, okay? After all, these beautiful babies are our grandbabies.”

  I welcome the kind words and unconditional support and know that this decision will be heavily based on what Zoey wants. Though now is still not the right time to bring it up again, Dr. Watson, the chief of staff in Australia, needs an answer soon, but today isn’t the day. I need to be with my wife more than ever.

  Zoey is a new person when we return two hours later. She got a solid hour of sleep, showered by herself, and is drinking tea while watching some godawful soap opera on the television.

  When the night nurse and doctor complete their final rounds for the day they’re optimistic that Zoey can be discharged tomorrow. Her wounds are healing nicely with no signs of infection, her feeding is still touch-and-go, but Zoey has now surrendered to using the bottle in between feedings to help her cracked nipples. The pain is too much to bear, and it isn’t my body. Therefore, I don’t want to enforce anything.

  On the morning of day five, I bring in the carriage and baby carriers and help Zoey pack her things.

  “I’m so glad to get out of here. Bye, bye, uncomfortable bed.”

  “I’m glad not to have to fall asleep on that plastic chair again.” My back’s taken a beating and is in desperate need of some gym time to help restore my posture. “Are you ready?”

  “So ready to take our babies home.”

  We say goodbye to all the nurses, thank them for their help, and with our babies safely secured in their carriers we walk slowly the corridor toward the elevator. The door pings open, and Chief Arnold is standing inside the elevator.

  “Dr. Baldwin.” Chief Arnold extends his hand which I cordially shake, and he immediately diverts his eyes to the babies. “I guess congratulations are in order. You must be the lovely Mrs. Baldwin.”

  “Actually, I’m just a stand-in,” Zoey teases with a bemused smile. “His wife is much prettier than me and doesn’t resemble a deflated hippopotamus with the worse fatigue possible.”

  Chief Arnold laughs. “I remember it like it was yesterday. Wait until they’re teenagers, then you’re not sleeping for a whole dif
ferent reason.”

  I’m grateful to have sons hearing how difficult girls can be in their teenage years.

  “So, tell me, have you managed to think much about the proposal?”

  Somehow, I knew the second he began speaking this would come up. Struggling to find the right words with a wavering smile, I’m about to tell him no when Zoey begins to speak, “We have…” she states confidently, “… and it would be a waste for our family to pass up this very generous opportunity. I’ll leave the discussion between yourself and my husband but count us in.”

  Count us in?

  My mouth falls open, followed by a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Chief Arnold expresses his gratitude for accepting the offer and sadness for losing me at the same time, willing we meet tomorrow to discuss with Chief Watson the finer details.

  Saying goodbye, he leaves us be in front of the elevators.

  “Um… what was that? We h-haven’t even talked about it,” I stutter, confused. “The last time we discussed this, you were angry. Livid, actually.”

  “Things change,” she says causally while pressing the button on the wall.

  “Stop.” I hold her arm back. “Things don’t just change with you. Why… why the change of heart? Something must have happened.”

  “I was angry at you, I’ll admit that,” she sighs, fixating on my facial reaction. “It felt like our lives would center around you, and everything I worked for would take a back seat.”

  “But it wouldn’t—”

  “Let me finish,” she interrupts. “I know that, now. You’ve always been my number one cheerleader well before we were a couple. No one witnessed how hard it was to get to where I am than you. And… I know you’ll never let me give up on my dreams. We simply need to alter them slightly, so we get the best of both worlds.”

  “It’s true,” I tell her, bottling my breath in an attempt to calm the elation building inside me. “I’ll never ask you to give up on your dreams.”

  “I’ve been looking for a sign, any sign, to show us that this is the right path for us, and then I found it…”

  I wait in anticipation as her deep green eyes begin to dance, and her face brightens with a beaming smile.

  “Pineapple. One big, giant pineapple.”

  Narrowing my eyes in confusion, I ask the pressing question. “Pineapples?”

  “Not pineapples. Just one giant pineapple. Queensland is known for The Big Pineapple, and if that isn’t a sign of good luck then I don’t know what is.”

  My gaze clouds as I try to put my thoughts together to ensure my words come out right.

  “So, let me get this straight. You’re happy to move to another country, leave your work and friends behind to live near a giant pineapple?”

  “Yes.” She grins, practically bursting at the seams with elation. “You call that a knife? This is a knife!”

  I burst out laughing at Zoey’s pathetic attempt to put on an Aussie accent and quote from Crocodile Dundee.

  “I love you, you crazy fool.”

  She joins in laughing along with me. “You too, mate.”

  Zoey Richards has always given me everything I’ve wanted in life, and in the space of a few minutes she’s managed to make another dream a reality.

  To new beginnings.

  A fresh start.

  And a lifetime of memories.

  Someone up above blessed me with the best sidekick ever.

  Epilogue

  Zoey

  There was this book I read a long time ago, a book which gave me the biggest book hangover ever. It was impossible to put down, the plot so engrossing I couldn’t stop reading it into the early hours of the morning and paying dearly for it the next day when I dozed off in an important meeting at work, and my then boss had to wake me up.

  The heroine fell pregnant to her ex-fiancé who happened to be cheating on her with his personal assistant. She then met this new guy, a handsome billionaire who swept her off her feet and was willing to be the new baby daddy.

  It was the messiest of love triangles, yet the thing I remembered the most was not so much the love triangle but the ability of the heroine to get dressed up, go on date-nights and manage to get a full night’s rest after she gave birth to her daughter.

  Oh, and she was a single parent.

  This book—still engrained in my memory—is the biggest crock of shit I’ve ever read. I only realized that today when I saw it come up on my Kindle.

  Dressed up? Ha! I only manage to get a pair of jeans and blouse on today, but the overbearing stench of baby vomit is lingering. Yes, Oliver decided that puking on me after I got out of my PJs at midday would be a great idea.

  Date night—interesting memory. Drew and I can barely sit down to eat a meal together. Mom offers to watch the babies, and the more we plan it, the more it becomes so difficult we give up. We are all about routines these days because it’s the only thing that keeps our sanity in check.

  As for sleep. What is sleep? The bags under my eyes are a permanent fixture. My hair has fallen out in clumps which Drew said is normal. Fine for him to say that—he isn’t balding at a rapid rate like I am.

  The boys are six weeks old now and wake up every five hours. It means from midnight to five o’clock is my best chance to catch some sleep, and the last thing on my mind is anything else.

  Okay, a small white lie. Something happened to me after a week of coming home from the hospital. My hormones did a complete one-eighty, and I desperately needed my husband to entertain me sexually. I didn’t see it coming. I felt like a fat mess with breasts leaking milk, and not showering twice a day like I usually do.

  I had never felt so unattractive in my entire life.

  “Why am I so horny?” I blurt out while brushing my teeth. “I feel like jumping you right now, but the nurses say six weeks. How set in stone is that?”

  Drew is dressed in only his sweat pants. It’s impossible to ignore the large bulge standing stiff beneath them. He leaned on the basin for support, bowing his head as if in pain.

  “Babe, there are medical reasons behind it. Would you please stop talking about it… I’m dying here. I think I have blue balls.”

  I hold in my laughter and run the tips of my fingers against his back. “So, I’m out of order, but I guess my mouth isn’t.”

  He turns swiftly, the biggest grin on his face as he throws his sweats down toward his ankles. I’m just about to position myself when one of the babies starts crying.

  Letting out a loud, frustrated groan, he buries his head in his hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Show’s over. And that, my love, is the biggest cockblocker ever.”

  We eventually hit the six-week mark, and despite Drew’s distaste for rubbers, there’s no chance in hell I want to fall pregnant again anytime soon.

  And six weeks becomes this huge milestone. The babies begin to open their eyes more, showcasing their facial expressions which I’m certain to capture several times on video.

  Henry is a Momma’s boy. He wants to be held all the time making it impossible for me to get anything done, whereas Oliver is happy to be sitting in his bouncer and stare at the black-and-white soft toys which hang from above.

  On top of trying to learn the ropes of motherhood which not one or those stupid books prepared me for—we are packing to move to Australia in two short weeks.

  The herbal tea is sitting on the coffee table, steam rising against the sun shining into the room. The boys are down for their afternoon nap, buying us two hours if we’re lucky. Two hours to secure a tenant to rent this place out during our stay down under.

  Drew walks the first prospective tenant in. Her name is Harmony, aged forty-three, a yoga instructor and lover of animals.

  “So, you love animals?” I ask, looking at her application. “Do you have any pets of your own?”

  Harmony’s posture is perfect, her yoga pants and dry-fit tank matching while sitting loose against her thin frame.

  “No, I d
on’t. I believe animals need to be in their intended sanctuary. An apartment is no place for a pet.”

  Thank God. I don’t want the apartment to smell like dog. Drew must have sensed my relief, eyeing me dubiously which distracts me from the list of questions queued in my overly-tired brain.

  “Your application looks good.” Drew quickly reads the paper before reverting his attention back to her. “Do you have any questions for us?”

  Her slim face breaks into a forced smile, gazing around the room. I follow her lead, my eyes aimlessly staring out our surroundings trying to decipher her thoughts.

  “I’m not looking for a furnished place,” she tells us.

  “We are moving to Australia, so taking our items would be rather costly,” Drew mentions, releasing a breath while trying to remain professional.

  “I don’t really care for pineapples. I’m allergic to them.”

  And we’re done.

  I stand quickly extending my hand. “Thank you, Harmony, for your application. We’ll be in touch soon.”

  My lips pinch together, eyes wide demanding Drew show her out. He catches on, showing her out and returning a few moments later.

  “Really, Zo?” He shakes his head, disappointed. “She wouldn’t have trashed the place.”

  “She’s allergic to pineapples. I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life.”

  Frustrated and mouthing words which I purposely ignore, he heads to the door and lets in the next applicant.

  Sebastian Gosling—thirty years old and profession, fireman.

  I don’t even have a second to process fireman as Drew introduces me to Sebastian. Hot-diggity-damn. This man is quite something else, muscular if I’m being honest is the first word that comes to mind.

  He extends his hand. “Sebastian Gosling.”

  “Zoey Richards.”

  Drew clears his throat, rather loudly. “Baldwin. My wife has baby brain.”

  “Yes,” I laugh, awkwardly, admiring Sebastian’s tousled thick, brown hair which sits just above his hazel eyes. “So, Gosling, related to Ryan?”