by Gina Kincade
Bee lifts her head again. At least the room has stopped spinning. For now. She tests her balance. Still no spinning. One more breath...no, heaves. Although she suspects that she may have a hard time heading home via subway, without throwing up all over the floors, she has to try and make it home. Two more weeks and her probation period is over. And guaranteed she will keep the job. How she will manage that and taking care of a child is something she hasn't figured out yet.
The pile of files rest on the counter. She washes her hands, then her face with water and pats her face dry with paper towel. The woman staring back at her isn't pale like a ghost, as she thinks she should look. No, the woman has reddened cheeks, a healthy glow. Her hair has grown quicker than expected and it is shiny as ever. Maybe pregnancy suits her, she tells herself.
She takes the files with her and walks back to her desk. Jason calls her from his office as soon as she sits down. "No rest for the weary...or the pregnant," she mutters to herself.
Bee pops her head in. Jason isn't alone. She bites her lip, berating herself for not being around when the visitor—possibly a client—came in. As far as she remembers, there aren't any meetings scheduled for this hour, but Jason has had a few friends over checking out his new firm. Blanche can't quite see the man, with his head down and facing away.
"Yes, Mr. Peters?" she asks.
The man across her boss, seated on a wingback chair, facing the desk, chuckles. "Mr. Peters. That's a load of shit."
Jason peers at his vocal guest. "She thinks you're a client." Then he looks back at Blanche, standing by the doorway. "It's okay, Blanche, this is just my moronic brother. He's come to make amends from being a jerk weeks ago."
Blanche steps further into the room, stretching her lips into a polite smile. She has wondered when she will be able to meet the mysterious, workaholic, moody—according to Marianne—brother. "It's great to meet you—"
Jason waves his hand toward his brother. "Blanche meet Hunter."
Chapter Nine
Hunter pushes on the side arm of the wing back chair, twisting his body around to meet his brother's assistant. He's heard about this "lovely girl" as Marianne has often described her, and her efficiency and effectiveness in the office. Hunter has seen the types of girls Jason previously hired and Marianne thought lovely. What he has pictured before is a geeky chick in dowdy clothing, with thick glasses and unkempt hair. Not that Hunter is judgmental. Geeky girls often have great underlying personalities. Geeky girls are smart. Geeky girls can be sexy with the right man. Red was once dubbed geeky, his subconscious reminds him.
The world doesn't tilt for Hunter, but when he sees the lovely Blanche, he swears an earthquake has just hit the city. For what stands in front of him is none other than the effervescent nymph that has swooped down many weeks ago and has graced his dreams and thoughts since, if he admits to such things happening to him. His small, polite smile turns into a full on heart-breaking, panty-dropping assault.
Hunter stands abruptly, almost knocking the large chair back, and steps forward.
"Bee—"
"Blanche, hi, my name is Blanche." Her hand shoots toward him, stiff and staid. Her eyes dart from him to his brother, then back to him again.
Two can play that game. Hunter takes the proffered hand, small and soft compared to his large, callused paw. She's in front of her boss; he gets it. She remembers him, no doubt about it, judging by how shallow she breathes, how clammy her hand is, and how fiery her eyes are as they gaze upon each other.
"Pleasure to meet you, Blanche." He lets his tongue massage her name.
He smirks knowingly as she swallows her anxiousness, and tugs her hand back. "Would you like some coffee or water?" The offer isn't for Hunter but for his brother.
"We're going out for lunch, just waiting on Marianne, but I could use some chamomile tea. My stomach is a bit queasy. I hope I didn't I catch a bug from the gym," Jason voices out from behind Hunter.
Blanche squeaks an "okay", glances back at him and turns around to do his brother's bidding.
"I'd like something." His voice makes her stop, but she doesn't turn. "Something hot and sweet." Oozing innuendos is something he has perfected over the years.
Slowly, she angles her body to face him, nervously clutching at the fabric over her abdomen. Oh, she is affected all right, Hunter delights at the thought.
"Coffee with lots of sugar?" Bee, sweet Bee, doesn't let her voice betray her.
"A shot of cream, and a teaspoon of honey, from a bee," he teases, and regards her as she widens her eyes and lets her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip.
She nods and walks away.
Hunter recalls the sweetness of her essence, the taste of her kiss, and the heat and passion that has outpoured from the delicate nymph. He remembers how she's had her pinned against the wall, and writhing under him on his sofa and his bed.
"Don't even think about it." Jason's warning broke his ministrations.
Hunter turns to his brother, after schooling his face into something more serious. "What?"
Jason straightens at his chair and places a pen on his desk. "You know what. Blanche is a nice girl, and she works hard. I don't want you clouding her with your magnanimous presence."
"Magnanimous?"
"You know what I mean." Jason waves his hand, his countenance sober. "Stay away from that girl. I mean it."
Too late, brother, he thinks as he smirks at his sibling. Hunter turns away and walks toward the door.
"Hold it. Where are you going?" Jason calls from behind.
Looking back, Hunter snaps, "I'm gonna take a piss. You wanna come hold it for me?"
"You're an ass."
Hunter chuckles to himself, then sets off to his real objective. To find Miss Blanche.
TEABAG IN THE CUP, then pour water, Blanche orders herself. Her nervousness makes her feel out of sorts. No, it has nothing to do with the big guy in her boss' office who just happens to be the guy she slept with weeks ago—eleven weeks ago, to be exact according to her pregnancy count—and as it turns out, her boss' brother. "His freaking brother," Bee mutters, while watching the tea change the water's color.
A prickling on the nape of her neck alarms her, and all too soon she is hyper aware of his presence. His heady scent—man, musk and leather—permeates the air around her. She refuses to turn around, even when every single cell in her body is screaming, begging her to. But there isn't any room to escape from him inside the office kitchenette.
"So this is where you've been hiding." Hunter appears by her side, with his back leaning against the countertop. His leather jacket touches the side of her arm, and even with that she feels the zinging on her skin.
She inhales steadily. "Who says I've been hiding?" And stirs a teaspoon in the cup, but her hand betrays her, shaking like a leaf, making melody when the teaspoon pings against the teacup.
"Oh, that's right. You weren't hiding. You were looking for me."
Her head flicks his way. "I wasn't looking for you!" This close to him, she feels her body reacting, the tightening of her nipples, making them more tender as they press against the lace of her bra. She curses inwardly as Hunter looks down on her, undoubtedly at her chest, at the traitorous buds.
"Are you sure about that?" Hunter licks the bottom of his lip. Then he motions closer, pressing his chest on her shoulders, his hands reaching forward and grabbing the edge of the counter. "We both know who's telling the truth. Now, Blanche, you've found me. What do you intend to do with me?" His warm breath tickles the side of her ear, and she tilts her head instinctively to allow him more access.
"Please." Her voice falters. And as she closes her eyes, a clear memory of his body, naked and unfettered, infiltrates her mind. With that vision comes the sensation, and the knowledge of what he is capable of doing with one kiss, one touch, and one hard thrust. Blanche presses her legs together, as though it will keep her sanity intact.
"Please what?" he growls in her ear, presses his erection against h
er backside, and nips at the tender flesh on her neck.
"I..." Blanche loses the battle when his hands make their way up her waist and stops to cup her aching breasts.
"I'm here! Sorry I'm late!" Marianne's voice, coming from the other room, snaps her out of his hold. "Jay? Blanche?"
Blanche heaves out a heavy sigh, blinks her eyes open. "Shit."
Hunter chuckles, low and guttural. "It's okay, Honey Bee."
"It is not okay!" Blanche faces him, pushes him hard away from her, and darts out of the room. She finds Marianne just about to enter Jason's office. "Hi, Marianne!"
"Oh hey! Blanche..." Marianne takes her eyes away from her and to a spot past Blanche's shoulder. "Hunter?"
Blanche keeps her hands to her side, and lifts her chin up in defiance as Hunter strides to them, then hugs Marianne.
"About time you got here. I'm ravenous," Hunter says the last words to Marianne but Blanche knows it is meant for her.
"Yeah, sorry. The school called and I thought they needed something important for the boys, but...whatever, it's all good." Marianne waves away her thoughts.
"Are the kids okay?" Jason appears, putting his suit jacket on before giving his wife a kiss.
Marianne nods. "Yeah. Just a bunch of mumbo jumbo fundraising stuff. I'm telling you, Blanche, don't ever have kids. They're expensive." Marianne follows her advice with a laugh.
But Blanche doesn't feel like laughing. Instead, her stomach turns at the 'k'-word, and she pales. "Oh my...I think I'm going to hurl." She runs off to the bathroom, clutching at her stomach and pressing her other hand on her mouth.
HE SHOULDN'T BE WORRIED. He shouldn't feel anything at all, but watching Bee—or Blanche, whichever she prefers to be called—run off, clearly looking sick, makes him...feel. "Is she okay? Maybe she got the same bug you have?" He points an accusatory finger at his brother. Hunter doesn't miss the look shared between Marianne and Jason. They know something. But what? "What is it?"
Marianne looks at Hunter and frowns. "I better go check on her." And she leaves the two brothers behind.
"What am I missing here, Jay?" Hunter tries again.
Jason hangs his head and swipes his hand over his face. "Marianne thinks Blanche is pregnant."
Pregnant? "Pregnant? What do you mean pregnant?"
His brother glances up to him like he has sprouted a third eye. "What else kind of pregnant is there? Blanche might be with child. Marianne suspected it a few weeks ago. You know how women are..."
Jason continues his explanation but Hunter can only think of one thing. It's impossible. They were safe. They used protection all three times, but the probability exists. That small window of opportunity. But there are also other factors.
"Does her boyfriend know?" Hunter stares at the door Blanche has walked through, clenching his jaw as he says the words.
"As far as we know she doesn't have one. At least she's never talked of a guy. She lives with her friend in Harlem. From what I see, all she does is come here, work, then go home. Even in the weekends she's around. It just sucks because she's a great assistant, but with a baby...I don't know if she'll stay."
"Of course she'll stay." Hunter feels protective of her, but there is no clear reason for him to be. Or is there? There's only one way to find out. He stalks to the bathroom, leaving his brother scratching his head, dumbfounded at Hunter's reaction.
He stops short of slamming open the bathroom door when Marianne steps out, with an inquisitive look on her face, guiding a weak-looking Blanche.
"Is it true?" Hunter spits out. Blanche pales, and she presses her hand on her stomach, her still flat stomach. He clears the distance between them. "Are you pregnant?"
"Hunter, relax, will yah? She's just sick. Clear the way." Marianne pushes her brother-in-law.
"No. She has to tell me." Hunter locks gazes with Blanche. She gives him that doe-eyed look that he's seen at the bar, that first and only night.
Marianne tries to pry him away Blanche again. "She doesn't have to tell you shit. It's none of your business. Jason!"
Her husband hurries to join them, finding Hunter intimidatingly close to his assistant who is backed up against the wall, looking like she might vomit again, his wife trying to wedge herself between them. "What the fuck is going on here? Hunter, back off!"
"No. She has to tell me. Blanche is it true?" His head is pounding, the whooshing of his blood is all he can hear, but he wills himself to concentrate. He stares at Blanche, and she stares back. And nods so subtly that if he looks away he would have missed it. "Is it?" She nods again and closes her eyes.
"Oh my god." The words come out of Marianne. She retracts her hands from Hunter and places them over her mouth.
Jason comes closer. "What the hell is going on?"
"I'm going to take her home," Hunter tells whoever is listening. "Marianne, lend me your car."
"Wait, why are you taking her home? Do you know each other?" Jason spreads out his hands before him, ready to accept any explanation.
Marianne digs for her keys in her purse and hands it to Hunter. "We'll talk about it later, Jay. And you too Hunt, come by the house after." She faces Blanche. "Call me whenever, Blanche. Don't be shy, okay?"
Blanche opens her eyes to see everyone's reactions. She nods at Marianne, looks shyly at her boss, and wanders at Hunter's expression. Is it guilt? Is it fear and loathsome? Is it anger?
"Let's go." Without giving her time to adjust, Hunter scoops up Blanche in one movement. All she can do is wrap her arms around his neck, and hold on for dear life. "Get her purse for me, will you, Mare? I'll bring the car back tonight." Her purse appears on her lap.
The motion being held in Hunter's arms soothes her. His heartbeat, although erratic, lulls her to calmness. She doesn't say anything to him as they make their way to Marianne's SUV. She's not sure how Hunter is able to manage carrying her, unlocking the car and putting her in, carefully. He swings his massive body in the driver's side and asks her for her address.
The only noise inside the SUV comes from the robotic female giving Hunter directions to her apartment. Between the two of them, nothing is spoken. Now that he knows, she isn't sure what else to say. All those words she has practiced in her head, and out loud with Trisha, have left her.
When they stop in front of her building, she gets out of the car before he is able to come around.
"You should've waited," Hunter snarls at her.
"I have legs. I can walk," she bites back, although her bark is way less than his. She stomps up to the building, aware that he is following suit, and walk up the steps to the tiny studio apartment she shares with Trisha. "You can go now," she tells him as she takes slots her key into the lock.
"Not gonna happen." His presence is so magnanimous that he seems to take over the whole landing. "You and I are going to talk."
Blanche opens the door in a huff. She throws her purse on a couch, then turns to face Hunter. "Yes, I'm pregnant. Yes, you're the father." She takes a deep, cleansing breath. Here goes nothing..."But I don't expect you to do anything. I can do this on my own. Trish will help me. We're moving to a bigger place. I'll find a sitter so I can keep working with Jay, if he doesn't fire me for sleeping with his brother. I'm fine. We'll be fine. You're not needed." Blanche stands stiffly and crosses her arms over her chest.
"Then why did you come looking for me if you've got it figured out?" Hunter closes in on her. She has to tilt her head up to be able to look him in the eyes. She's forgotten how tall he is, how big, how grand, compared to her.
"I thought it was the civil way to go. If I didn't find you, or if you hadn't shown up at my work, I'd been fine without you knowing. I don't want anything from you."
Hunter glares at her. Muscles on his jaw twitch. She can almost hear his teeth grinding against each other. A week ago, Blanche would have sat down and worked out a plan with him, about the baby. But with his reactions, the angst roiling off his body, and the wicked twinges in his eyes tell her that it might not b
e the best idea. She knows very little about him, and what she does know is second hand information that she didn't realize she was getting from his brother. Jason would complain about his "immature younger brother", "the uncle my kids don't see", or has proudly commented about "my artist brother getting an award".
If Hunter isn't responsible enough to even visit his own family, his only family in the city, how else is he going to be useful with his own child? No, this is the right thing to do, Blanche convinces herself. And it is further proved when Hunter finally opens his mouth and says,
"Fine. But don't come running back when the kid is born." She doesn't know how it's possible, but Hunter manages to get even closer. "This is your decision. This is what you want. Remember that!" Then he turns and leaves.
Blanche sinks down to the floor, breathes out the heaviness from her chest, and sobs at her unclear future. All on her own.
Chapter Ten
"You're an idiot!"
The look on his brother's face adds to the tension Hunter has put upon himself. His eyes dart to Marianne, but all she does is stare at a spot on the kitchen floor.
"Who the fuck do you think you are? How could you do that to her? We fucking came from the same family, same blood, same parents, same upbringing. We were raised to be more responsible adults! And you do this?" Jason shouts, hands thrashing about.
"It was an accident!" Even though his voice is louder than Jason's, it lacks the scary tone he wants it to carry through. "I wasn't going around with my dick hanging out and jumping women!"
Jason launches himself forward, pointing a steady finger at Hunter. "You might as well have been! The way you've been strutting around this city like a fucking stud..."