His mom’s happiness was worth it.
The music changed to a slow song and his eyes sought out Denise. She too had taken his breath away. Not one to normally wear dresses, when she’d shown up in the curve-hugging royal blue dress, he about swallowed his tongue. Across the room, she was deep in conversation with the ladies. As he skirted the makeshift dance floor and headed her way, several friends of his mom’s stopped him to say hello. By the time he reached his destination, the song had ended.
He slipped his hand to the small of Denise’s back. “Ladies, can I get anyone anything? Drinks? Cake?”
“If I eat another bite, I’m going to pop.” Tawny pressed her hand to her middle.
The rest murmured “no thanks.”
Denise gestured toward his mom on the dance floor. “They look fabulous. And incredibly happy.”
“She’s a beautiful bride and person.” Kelly turned her head to watch their parents. “She makes him happy. I love seeing Dad smile so freely again. Mom would approve.”
“That’s a nice thing to say,” Cherry said.
Brody was pretty sure the old man was spinning in his grave, but he kept that to himself.
“Cherry, when is the baby due?” Kelly blurted out.
“September twenty-first.” Her hand slid around to rest on her stomach.
“Let’s hope your labor isn’t anything like mine. Thirty-nine hours of excruciating pain. Covered from head to toe in sweat, and they wanted to take pictures. Just wait, Tawny, until it’s your time or you, Denise. I heard twins run in your family. Your sister right? Double the pain, and I’m not just talking labor.”
And that was his sign to exit stage left.
Denise fidgeted, like she was looking for her own excuse to escape from his stepsister’s comments. She’d had the same reaction when Cherry announced her pregnancy. Kind of strange. She loved kids. Maybe she was worried he’d feel pressured or that she’d never have her own. Whatever it was, they’d talk about it when they got home. He’d take the pressure off for now and go find the guys.
“Can you ladies excuse me? I need to talk to Jase and Dave about some work stuff.” He ignored Cherry and Tawny’s snort of disbelief and strolled over to the bar to find his buds.
Dave clamped a hand on his shoulder, while Jase handed him a glass of wine. “Had your fill of women talk, Bro?”
“Kelly was talking about babies and labor. Denise looked a little uncomfortable.”
“Sure it was Denise who was uncomfortable?” Jase laughed.
“Nothing like weddings and pregnant women to put ideas into a single woman’s mind and make a guy want to run.”
“Speaking of... who’s in charge of my bachelor party?”
“Pick something that won’t get me in trouble with Cherry.”
“Pick something that won’t get you in trouble with Tawny, and remember, she has a brother who’s trained to kill you in over a hundred and seventy-nine different ways where no one will find your body in a million years.” Brody laughed as Dave’s face froze like a deer caught in headlights.
“Maybe we should do something with the six of us. Head down to New York City for a weekend or out to Jersey,” Dave said.
“Why are you going to Jersey?” Tawny slid her arms around Dave’s waist and looked at the three men.
They filled the three women in on their idea. Cherry and Tawny loved the plan and said they’d take care of the reservations and started batting dates around. Denise didn’t say anything. She was standing with them but apart, her attention elsewhere.
“Dee?”
“I hate to cut out early, but I have to work tonight. See you all later.” Denise kissed him on the cheek and double-timed it to the exit.
He hurried after her, stopping her as she hit the front door. “Hey, Dee, wait up. I thought you didn’t have to be in until seven tonight. It’s only five now.”
She looked away. “Seven in the ER, six in maternity. Will you apologize to your mom and Kevin for me having to leave early?”
“Sure.” He pulled her in for a kiss. She stepped back, refusing to meet his gaze. “Did I do something wrong?”
Her head whipped around to lock eyes with him. “No, you’re perfect. As a matter of fact, I think you should make a habit of wearing a tux more often. Polý séxi. Very sexy.” She reached behind him, pulled his head down, slanted her mouth across his, and kissed the daylights out of him. “See you tomorrow?”
He leaned against the doorjamb as she drove off, his gut churning and burning his insides up. Something was off with his girl. Something that darkened her eyes with sorrow and made her want to run away. Now to get her to confess; good thing he was an expert with reluctant witnesses.
Sunday, dog-tired after dealing with a multivehicle accident, Denise parked her car and rested her forehead against the steering wheel. Sleep called to her, sang its soft serenade, lulling her into its embrace. For just a minute or two, she’d rest, and then she’d have the energy to make it to her bed, where she planned to sleep for the next ten hours.
I just need to rest my eyes for a few minutes and then I’ll go inside. . .
A sound startled her and she shot up, looking around. Who could be knocking on her bedroom window? This was exactly why she’d chosen a second-story apartment. As her vision focused, the steering wheel and car interior had her rapidly blinking and turning to her window. Brody smiled and held up a bag and a coffee cup.
“What time is it?” she asked as she crawled out of the car.
“About seven forty. How long have you been sleeping?”
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and did the math. “I guess about twenty minutes or so. Probably should have crashed in the doctors’ lounge.”
He ran the tip of his finger down her cheek. “Do me a favor? Next time, catch twenty in the lounge. I’d rather you crash there than on the road.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead and stepped to the side so they could head inside.
Mornings weren’t her thing, unlike Brody, who looked fresh and ready to go. His hair was still damp from his shower, but he hadn’t shaved. Whereas last night he’d been in a tux, today he had on faded, worn-in blue jeans and a button-down shirt. Still polý séxi, unlike her in wrinkled jeans and a T-shirt with her hair in a rat’s nest of a bun.
“What’s in the bag?” She sniffed but couldn’t catch a whiff of anything except freshly mowed grass. And now that she’d caught a catnap, all her senses were coming back to life. The birds tweeted and chirped, a dog from down the street barked, and her neighbor’s kids shrieked with laughter inside their apartment. If she were lucky, she’d get back to sleep in a couple of hours and thank goodness for blackout curtains. She’d need them today.
Brody held up the hand with the bag in it. “Breakfast burritos, made by my loving hands.” He held up the other. “Decaf coffee.”
If she weren’t already in love with him, she would have fallen at that moment.
“You got up early on your day off to make me breakfast again?” She opened the door and led the way in, tossing her purse and keys on the entry table.
He set the food on the kitchen counter and turned to her. “I have a plan. Breakfast, then off to bed for you, and to the office for me. Then, around four, I’ll come back, ravish you, and feed you again before sending you back to save more lives.”
She ran the palms of her hands over his chest and kissed him. Just a quick, I-can’t-help-myself kiss. “Sounds excellent. However, I need to work in time for studying too.”
His smile faded momentarily. “No problem. I’ll work a little later than planned and pick up food from Jorge’s. This way neither of us has to cook or do dishes, and I still have time to ravish you.”
Someone was being awfully accommodating. But would it last for the next year? Him having to rearrange his schedule for her? Brody had never been one to follow the others. He’d led, they’d followed. It was why he’d opened his own practice instead of going to work for one of the bigger firms. Goodness kn
ows he’d had plenty of offers after passing his bar exam. It had led to a memorable night of celebration.
“Brody, we need to talk.”
“You need to eat and then sleep. We can talk tonight.” He walked over and pulled out a foil wrapped burrito and handed it to her.
Sitting across from him, she dug into her breakfast, which had enough kick to wake up her taste buds without setting her stomach on fire. “I’m good to go for another couple of hours.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“The trip to Jersey? I’m not going to be able to go with you.”
“That’s not a problem. We can do something else for Dave and save the trip for later.”
“Later Cherry will be too pregnant. Just because I’m not going doesn’t mean you have to miss out. This is your best friend’s bachelor party. You can’t miss it or Dave will never forgive me, and I’d really like to someday be off his hate list.”
“Come here.” He stood, took her hand, and led her to the couch, where he pulled her down onto his lap. “Dave doesn’t hate you.”
“He definitely doesn’t love me.” Once upon a time they were friends—good friends even—but that all changed when she’d hurt Brody, and there was never anyone created more loyal than David Farber. He would die for Jason and Brody and they for him.
“No, but I do.” His voice went sandpapery rough and caught every ounce of her attention.
She cupped his face in the palms of her hands, kissed him, and held on as she rested her forehead against his. Seconds, possibly minutes, ticked by as she breathed in his scent, let his warmth seep through her, holding on to that moment forever.
“You know, it’s customary when someone says they love you for you to say it back. Unless you don’t feel the same.”
She kissed him again, long and hard, pouring everything she felt, all the love and regret and fear into her actions. When she didn’t have anything left, she pulled back and met his gaze. “I never stopped loving you, Brody Andrew Nichols. Not for one moment of one single day. I’ve loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you and I’ve no doubt I’ll love you beyond my dying breath.”
“I’m glad to hear we’re both back on the same page. Let’s not waste—”
“Wait.” She put her finger over his mouth to stop him. “We need to talk first.”
He kissed her fingertips and captured her hand. “This is ending in us saying I do this time. I’ve waited forever for you, Dee. I’m done waiting.”
She sat back. He looked like the smug cat that got the mouse and the canary.
“Is that a fact?”
“Yes. Name the date and I’m there.” His eyes pleaded with her to say yes.
“Brody, don’t you think we should talk about the future first?” She slid off his lap and paced the short distance from her couch to the dinette table.
“I thought that’s what we were doing.” He sat forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
“Where will we live?”
“My house, or we can sell it and find another place together.”
“What about finances? Joint accounts or separate?”
“Whichever you want, but I’m in this for life, so what’s mine is yours.”
Damn, did he have to be so agreeable? So perfect?
“What about kids?”
There, she threw it out there, the elephant she’d been toting around, trying to avoid.
“What about them?” His voice, the drawn brows, all told her that he thought she was losing it.
“Do you want kids?” She couldn’t look at him. Her heart slowed and tears burned as they made their way to her eyes.
“Of course.” He came to stand in front of her, taking her hands to stop her pacing. “Just think. A little girl with your eyes and upturned nose. We could name her after your mother.”
“Um, hell—o . . . No. See, here’s the thing. I can’t.”
“Can’t name her after your mom? That’s okay. We’ll name her or him or them anything you want.” He wrapped her in his tight embrace, which was better, because then he couldn’t see the tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Brody, I can’t have kids.” A sob ripped from her heart at the confession. She’d known for years, but saying it out loud and to the man she loved, had hoped to have kids with, was killing her.
He pulled back and looked down at her, a frown marring his handsome face. “What?”
She stepped away, walked to the kitchen, and got a glass of water. She’d kill for a Pop-Tart or, even better, a shot of whiskey. After guzzling the nonalcoholic, tasteless liquid she walked over and dropped to the couch. “I can’t have kids. Well, the chance of me getting pregnant is so slim it’s practically not there.”
Tears ran down her face. She sniffled and grabbed the box of tissues she always had on hand and let the floodgates open. Brody, bless him, sat next to her and held her, not saying a word, just letting her cry until the tears dried up.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”
“Can I ask why not?”
She took a deep breath and blew it out. “Sure. About four years ago, I was diagnosed with polycystic ovary syndrome. It messes with all things female, including getting pregnant, is not fun, and has already caused me to lose one ovary. There are other side effects, but those are the basics. So, if you want kids . . .”
“Sure, I want them, but it’s not a deal breaker. There are other options, like surrogacy or adoption. A child doesn’t have to be of your own blood to love it. I know better than most that a genetic connection doesn’t automatically equal unconditional love, and that the ties that bind the strongest come from the heart.”
The man was really too good to be true at times, but there was more and he had to know it all.
“There’s something else I have to tell you.” Her voice broke and she had to look away from him. “Please, don’t hate me.”
He cupped her cheek to turn her to face him, but she shook her head. She’d never get through this part if she had to see the look on his face, or the sadness or anger or whatever reaction he would have in his eyes.
“Dee, I could never hate you. I love you. Nothing is going to change that.”
We’ll see.
“I got pregnant once before—”
“That’s great news. If it happened once, it can happen again.”
“Five years ago. I was pregnant five years ago, Brody.”
All sound ceased. The birds stopped singing. The dog down the street shut up. The kids next door stopped laughing. She couldn’t even hear Brody breathing. Unable to stop, she looked into his eyes and saw the moment the math clicked into place in his head. His eyes turned as black and hard as obsidian. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t move a muscle.
“Before or after we broke up?”
“I found out two weeks before the wedding.”
Calm. He was the calm before the storm and the storm was swirling on his face.
“Did you get an abortion?”
“No, never. I miscarried.” A searing pain shot through her lower abdomen and straight through her. If she hadn’t been sitting it would have doubled her over. It was like going through the nightmare all over again.
He shot off the couch, turned his back on her. “I was going to be a dad.”
“Brody—”
He walked to the window and pulled the curtains back, letting the bright sunlight into the room. It didn’t belong there, not with them in such a dark moment. It should be thundering, and lightning should strike down from the sky. Rain should be coming down in sheets.
“Don’t give me excuses, Denise. You hid the fact from me that I was going to be a dad and left me. Why? I don’t get it.”
She got up and walked over to him. He flinched and pulled away when she lay her hand on his arm. She refused to let any more tears flow. She willed them back with everything she had in her. If he were going to forgive her, it would be because he loved her, not because he felt sorry for her.
<
br /> “I wanted to tell you. When I found out, I was over the moon. We were meeting at Paddy’s that night for dinner and I was going to tell you over dessert. I’d even stopped and got one of these cute, sappy cards for you. Then, when I arrived, you were with Jason and Dave. I overheard the three of you talking. Dave had said something about kids and you replied, ‘This marriage isn’t going to change me or my plans, and my plans don’t include having kids.’ But it wasn’t so much your declaration as the tone in your voice when you said the word kids.”
“So this is on me?”
“No. It was my decision. I kept the card in my purse, we had a lovely dinner, and life went on. Except I had this secret, this baby growing in me that you didn’t want and I did. I wasn’t about to trap you in an unhappy marriage, Brody. You deserved more, especially after living with the nightmare your father created.”
There was so much more, like hormones wreaking havoc with her emotions, stress from work and her family, and knowing he’d be unhappy every single minute.
“Are you sure it wasn’t more like you were afraid I’d turn out like my dad? That I’d go from the guy you knew to the one we feared? That I’d beat you and our child whenever the whim struck?”
She reached for him again, and again he pulled away. “Not for one second did I think or fear you’d hurt us. You’re not like your dad. You never could be. But if I’d forced a child on you, you would have been miserable. That wasn’t fair.”
“What wasn’t fair,” his voice boomed through her, “was walking out of my life without telling me the truth, without telling me about the baby, without giving me a fucking chance.”
He was right, and she’d had to live with that decision for the past five years as she’d cried herself to sleep too many nights to count, as the doctor told her she’d lost the baby, as he told her she’d never have kids, and she’d have to keep living with it for the rest of her life.
Fiance for Keeps Page 23