Love Accidental

by Tia Siren

  “I’m being careful. It’s a flat sidewalk,” I replied, not the least bit irritated by his overprotective nature.

  “I want to have someone come out and fix that crack,” he muttered behind me.

  I turned back to look at him, noticing he walked as if he were on eggshells while carrying the car seat in one hand. It was endearing and very sweet.

  “It’s a tiny crack.”

  “Tiny cracks become big cracks. What if you trip and fall while you’re carrying her? What if she trips and falls while she’s learning to walk?”

  I laughed, turned to face him, and kissed him soundly. “You are turning into a worry wart. Relax. We’ve got this. We’re a good team. I’ve been walking about twenty-six years now. I think I’ve got it down,” I teased.

  “You still need to be careful and I’m still having it fixed,” he shot back.

  Heading up the walk, I didn’t bother arguing. He insisted on carrying the car seat, convinced I was too weak from the labor and delivery.

  I didn’t have the heart to tell him I felt fine, like my old self despite being a little sore. I unlocked the front door and stepped out of the way to let him pass. I heard the sweet grunts of our newborn baby girl and smiled. I would never get tired of those sweet little noises. The house smelled like lemon, and I knew Dylan had had the cleaning woman come by before we’d left the hospital.

  Dylan walked into the open living room and carefully put the car seat on the couch before pulling the blanket away and looking down at the baby nestled inside.

  “Should I leave her?” he asked, looking up at me.

  I shrugged. “Is she awake?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then we shouldn’t disturb her. We’ll let her sleep. I’ll make us a couple sandwiches since we skipped breakfast this morning. I’m famished,” I said, walking into the large, open, and airy kitchen.

  “I had Nina stock the fridge. We won’t have to leave the house for a week if we don’t want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around me from behind.

  “I think I’ll go crazy if I don’t leave the house for a week.”

  “Don’t push it. You need time to rest and get a routine going.”

  I chuckled, shaking my head. The man was parroting the doctor’s every word. I got busy making us each a sandwich. Dylan was in and out of the kitchen, checking on the baby every three minutes. I had barely finished my sandwich when he announced she was awake. That meant the boobs were on duty. I washed my hands and headed for the living room.

  Pausing, I watched Dylan gently unbuckle the straps of the car seat before picking her up and cradling her in his arms.

  Instantly, I had tears in my eyes. Watching him hold our baby was the sweetest thing. Over the last forty-eight hours, I had taken at least a hundred pictures on my cell of him doing the exact same thing, yet here I was contemplating taking yet another picture. I would never get tired of seeing him look at her with such adoration.

  “She’s so gorgeous. She’s got to be the prettiest baby girl that was ever born,” he cooed.

  I laughed. “I might be biased, but I agree.”

  “Do you need to feed her?” he asked.

  “Probably. You hold her while I go change. I’ll be right back.”

  When I returned, daddy and daughter were staring at each other. Dylan was giving her sweet kisses on the nose and cooing to her. I heard him listing off all the things he was going to buy her and the places he would take her to see.

  “You’re already spoiling her and she’s only two days old.”

  “I’ll show her how to be generous and compassionate, but she will be spoiled.”

  I knew he was right. Most of the books I had read about child-rearing suggested a parent teach by example. Dylan was the perfect example of generosity. Our children would learn from the most giving person I had ever met in my life.

  Grabbing a pillow, I sat down and prepared to breastfeed our daughter. It was a learning experience, one I hoped I would soon get the hang of. I had cried the first few times, struggling to get it right, but Dylan was always there, encouraging me to keep trying.

  “Here goes nothing,” I mumbled.

  “You’re doing fine. You did great for the last feeding in the hospital.”

  “I hope so.”

  Dylan handed me the baby and did his best to help us get situated before going to make sure her bed was made up and ready. It wasn’t like it could have been messed up since we had no other babies sleeping in the little bassinet, but I knew it was his way. He was an overprotective daddy and would be doting on her for years to come. I leaned my head back, doing my best to relax. My mind drifted to the moment our baby had been born.

  The entire nine months of pregnancy, I had been a blubbering mess. I had cried over everything. In the delivery room, I had cried as well, but I hadn’t been alone. Dylan had cried as he’d held our little girl for the first time. Even the nurses had cried at the sweet scene. It was a memory I would cherish for the rest of my life. Dylan had been brought to his knees by a seven-pound, two-ounce girl. The nurses and I all agreed that she had her daddy wrapped around her little finger from the moment she took her first breath. I was convinced it had been much longer than that.

  “Her bed’s ready,” he whispered.

  “Okay,” I said, carefully patting her little back as I stood and walked upstairs to the nursery, which was outfitted in the woodland theme Dylan had fallen in love with.

  After getting the baby settled, I went in search of Dylan. I found him in the kitchen, staring out the window that faced the big backyard. I checked the video monitor that was mounted under a kitchen cabinet, happy to see she was still peacefully sleeping. The nursery had cameras in every corner. Dylan was not taking any chances with her safety. That was one thing we agreed on.

  “I’m going to try to take a quick nap while she sleeps,” I told him, startling him out of his daydream.

  “I want a taller fence around the pool,” he said, turning around.

  “It’s a six-foot fence already,” I said.

  He shook his head. “A higher fence. No, I want two fences, just in case she gets through the first one.”

  I nodded my head. “If it makes you feel better. I think you have some time.”

  “And I want one of those playgrounds put in behind the basketball court.”

  “Okay,” I said, yawning. “I’m going to take a nap.”

  “I’ll go with you,” he said.

  Together we lay on the bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. The baby monitor was sitting on the bedside table. Listening to the sound of her breathing was soothing.

  “It feels good to be home,” I said on a sigh.

  “Yes, it does. You never cease to amaze me,” he said, kissing my forehead.

  I looked at him, questioning the praise.

  “You have given me the most beautiful gift I could ever ask for, and you did it with amazing grace. I don’t think you cursed one time during the whole thing. I was prepared for you to be hitting me and telling me to leave and never come back.”

  “You’ve watched too many movies.”

  “You didn’t even cuss one time!” he said, amazement and pride in his voice.

  I laughed. “I may not have cursed out loud, but let me tell you, I was screaming F bombs in my head.”

  “That’s okay. You deserved to.”

  I smiled and closed my eyes, looking forward to a short nap without the sounds of a busy maternity ward to wake me.

  “I love you. You are so amazing. You continuously impress me with your strength and pure awesomeness every single day,” he said.

  I opened my eyes to find him staring at me and smiled. “Thank you. That is very kind, and I appreciate it. You’re pretty awesome too.”

  “Stay right here,” he said, rolling off the bed and opening his bedside table.

  He stood beside the bed, looking down at me. “What do you have?”

  “I got you a little something.”


  “Ohh, a present?” I said, gleefully clapping my hands together.

  He nodded. “Yes, a push present.”

  “A push present! You really are crazy!”

  He held out a little black box, and my laughter died on my lips. I held my breath, watching him open the box. Inside, there was a stunning diamond ring. It glistened in the sunlight streaming through the windows.

  “Dylan?” I said his name on a breath.

  “I know we’re doing this all out of order. Thank you for sticking with me while I figured things out. Kendall, I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

  I clapped my hand over my mouth as I nodded. My vision blurred as more tears filled my eyes and streamed down my face. I scrambled to get out of bed to hug him.

  “Yes! You know I will.”

  He slid the ring on my finger.

  “Good. You’ve made me a very happy man. The only thing that could make me happier is our second child.”

  I slapped his chest. “Down boy. Give this body a minute to recuperate.”

  “Only a minute?”

  I laughed, holding my hand up to stare at the ring. “It is really beautiful.”

  “I custom-designed it specifically for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now, about that nap,” he started.

  Nodding, I chuckled. “Indeed. We better sleep when she does. I have a feeling sleep is going to be a valuable commodity in short supply over the next several months.”

  I lay down, and he lay behind me, spooning me as we enjoyed the peaceful bliss. I felt a little too giddy to sleep but knew I needed it.

  “I can’t wait to tell Vanessa,” I mumbled, already drifting off to sleep.

  “Shh,” he murmured close to my ear. “Later.”

  There was a smile on my face as I drifted off to sleep, feeling content and happy in the arms of my future husband. My father was a distant memory. I had my own life now, and I wouldn’t let anything get in the way of my happiness ever again.

  ***

  END OF THE FIRST STORY

  The Marriage Pact

  I’m dreaming of marriage and a baby - but I never imagined Brad would show up out of the blue with flowers and propose.

  He was my best friend.

  The man who broke my heart so many years ago.

  Now, he’s back to give me the one thing I want most in the world.

  Brad:

  Mia was my everything.

  She was my best friend - but I never told her how I really felt.

  Not even when I took her innocence.

  Or moved away and left her with nothing but our promise:

  If we were still single at 35, we’d get married and have a baby.

  We haven’t spoken since that night.

  I can understand her resentment.

  She doesn’t know why I had to stay away.

  Maybe I should tell her what really happened.

  At first she might deny me.

  Make fun of our stupid marriage pact.

  But I’ll make her remember my touch.

  Devour every inch of her body.

  Show her we’re meant to be so much more than ‘just friends’.

  Today’s Mia’s 35th birthday - and I’m back to claim what she promised

  me.

  *

  Chapter One

  Brad

  I blew into my cupped hand, then sniffed. All good. I knew I probably didn’t need to do it, but I didn’t want to have dragon breath. No one wanted to hang out with someone who could peel paint off the walls with their breath.

  Taking a deep breath, I knocked, aware that I was nervous as hell. I shouldn’t have been. I had done this a hundred times. Tonight felt different though. It was different. This would be the last time we hung out for a long time. Mia Hunter was my best friend in the world, and she was also incredibly hot. I didn’t think I was exactly scraping the bottom of the bucket in the looks department myself, but in all the years we’d known each other, we had never crossed the line. We weren’t friends with benefits. We were plain old friends. It was nice. Things never got complicated so it was an easy friendship.

  Even though I’d been carrying a torch for her for a long time, I had never let her know how I really felt.

  “Hey. You knocked?” she said with that smile that always hit me right in the gut.

  I shrugged. “I wasn’t sure you’d be decent.”

  She giggled and swung the door open wider. “Get your ass in here, Brad.”

  I winked and walked past her, carrying my bag of goodies for our last night together. It wasn’t anything fancy. It never was.

  “I brought vodka,” I said, pulling out the cheap bottle I picked up at the liquor store.

  She scoffed. “Our last night together and you couldn’t even spring for the good stuff?”

  “This was your big idea. You could’ve bought the booze, you know.”

  I got another one of her sexy giggles. “I just wanted to spend one last night hanging out with you. I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” she pouted.

  “I’m sorry. It’s too good an opportunity to pass up,” I said. “You can text and call anytime. Email works too. And I’ll be making the big bucks soon and can buy you a plane ticket to come out and visit me.”

  Seeing her was killing me. She was wearing yoga pants and a tiny shirt that left her belly button exposed. The woman didn’t seem to know how sexy she was. That messy bun on top of her head was torture. I loved her long brown hair, but seeing it piled on top of her head like that was too much for me. I knew she wouldn’t be so relaxed around me if she knew how attracted I was to her.

  “I can’t believe you were actually going to leave without saying goodbye. That’s not cool,” she scolded.

  I shrugged a shoulder. “I’m sorry. I really wasn’t trying to offend you. I thought it would be easier for both of us.”

  She was shaking her head. “You knew I would be pissed. That was a dumb idea. You can’t just move away without a real goodbye.”

  “I’m here. Let’s eat, drink, and be merry.”

  “Sit. I’ll get the snacks and make a couple screwdrivers. You can splurge tonight. Don’t give me any of that crap about not eating carbs,” she muttered. “It’s seriously a wonder I am even friends with you. A man who watches his weight and eats right can’t be trusted.”

  “You love my body and you know it. But tonight, just for you, I will stuff my face with unhealthy food.”

  “And you’ll damn well like it,” she quipped.

  “Nothing fried,” I said, settling on the couch.

  I heard her mumble something under her breath and smiled. “What was that?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Not all of us can be naturally thin and beautiful, Mia. Some of us have to put in some effort to look this good.”

  She made what sounded like a choking noise, and I started laughing. Mia could eat, like, a five-hundred-pound man and never gain an ounce. She chalked it up to good genes, and I had even told her on more than one occasion that she had won the gene lottery: gorgeous, sexy as hell, and smart to top it off.

  “Here. Drink this and I’ll look even better to you,” she said, shooting me a silly grin.

  I took the tall glass of orange juice from her. After one sip, I realized it was equal parts vodka and juice. I choked as the alcohol hit my tongue, and an involuntary shudder shook my body as the strong drink rolled over me.

  “Wow,” I sputtered. “That’s a stiff one.”

  She was laughing. “Too strong?”

  “If you’re trying to get me drunk, it’s definitely going to work.”

  More of her delicious laughter washed over me. “So, tell me about this job that is taking you away from me.”

  I smiled, feeling excited about the new path I was about to jump on. “I’m basically the coffee guy. It isn’t anything spectacular yet, but I hope to impress the big guys and get on the air. Maybe one day I’ll even have my own
show and you’ll get to hear my voice from all the way across the country.”

  “Good. I’m so proud of you, Brad. You deserve this. I know you’re going to be bigger than Ryan Seacrest one day. I’ll get to say I knew you when.”

  I shook my head. “It isn’t going to be like that. You’re still going to know me. We’re going to be seeing each other and talking all the time. You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”

  “That’s what you say now. You’re going to be in Los Angeles with all the beautiful people. Some hot little blonde is going to catch your eye and you’re going to forget all about me.”

  “That will never happen,” I promised her. “Besides, I’m partial to brunettes.”

  She slapped my arm. “I have some news as well, by the way.”

  “Really? What’s up? You’re not running off with the guy from the coffee shop, are you? I don’t think I could take that kind of heartache on my last night in town,” I teased.

  “Tempting, but no. I’m going to be starting as an intern at that magazine I told you about.”

  “What! How come you didn’t tell me? That’s awesome!”

  She shrugged one of her dainty shoulders. “I didn’t want to steal your thunder.”

  “Mia, you’re not stealing my thunder. I’m happy for you. You are going to do great. I hate that we’ll be on opposite sides of the country, but I’m glad you’re getting your shot.”

  I hid my true feelings on the subject. I’d hoped to find success out in LA, then convince her to move out there with me. That would never happen now because I knew Mia was going to make it. She would get her dream job at a top magazine here in New York and never leave. My heart hurt at the thought of not seeing her every day, not getting together on the weekends, not going for hikes together. She was my best buddy, always willing to entertain my wildest ideas. I was going to miss her terribly.

  “Is this it?” she whispered.

  “Is what it?” I asked.

  “This. I mean, how many people do you talk to from high school? None, right? At the end of senior year, we all promised to keep in touch and all that crap. None of us have. I occasionally see a couple people, but I don’t hang out with my old friends from school. Then with college, same story. You are the only one I really talk to still,” she said in a quiet voice. “We’re saying all these nice things about seeing each other on vacations and keeping in touch, but will we?”