by Lacey Black
The way her eyes sparkle when she talks about Jacobi lets me know that if my lack of judgment tonight results in a baby, she’s going to be the best mom ever. She’s had the what-not-to-do example growing up, and that leaves me confident that she’ll love this baby with her entire being.
This baby.
There I go thinking like I already have confirmation.
I don’t know anything for sure except that I’m enjoying the hell out of my time with Sidney. She’s way more adventurous than I ever would have anticipated, contradicting little things that I thought I knew about her. She’s proving to be more with each passing moment. So until it’s time to look past the here and now, I’m going to dig my feet in and have fun.
“Enough about Penny,” I say as I turn her in my arms. “I want to talk about that thing you did to my cock earlier with the pie…”
Chapter Thirteen – Lucky Number Thirteen
Sidney
Three Weeks Later
“The Flannigan wedding is in four weeks. Are we all set for their arrival?” I ask Cassidy as we enjoy a late morning snack of mocha lattes and homemade powdered sugar donuts from the kitchen.
“All set,” Cass replies through a mouthful of food. “The wedding party is set to arrive on Thursday afternoon. The cars are supposed to pick them up at McCarran at three thirty, arriving here at the hotel by four fifteen. We have them in Penthouse C and suite 204 through 209.”
“Good. As long as everyone keeps their clothes on, we’ll be in good shape come Saturday’s wedding.” My comment gets a snort-laugh from Cassidy.
“Right. I’m sure that no one would mind if the groomsmen were half as good looking as that Turner wedding party was.”
This past Friday, the Turner’s hosted a bachelor party in one of our executive suites while the bachelorettes went clubbing on the strip. Sometime around two a.m., and after a half dozen bottles of Crown Royal, the groomsmen had a streaking competition through the hotel. The last one to get caught was the winner. Needless to say, there were a half dozen naked men running around the hotel until about four when the last one was finally caught.
What were they playing for? No one could remember.
It’s funny now. At the time, not so much. It took hotel security extra staff to watch the monitors while the others were out canvassing and patrolling the halls. I recently found out that Blake and Luke were both called in to man the security monitors while their guys tracked down a naked wedding party of six.
Only in Vegas.
“These donuts are so good. I’m going to need to run extra miles at the gym tonight,” Cassidy says before stuffing another donut in her mouth.
I was able to enjoy two–hey, don’t judge! They’re small.–before my stomach started to turn. It was queasy this morning too when I woke up. I assumed it was from lack of sleep, lack of food, and lack of energy. The only thing I’m not lacking right now is sex. I’m having plenty of that.
Luke has come over more nights than not in the past three weeks. Neither of us has put a label on whatever it is we’re doing, but I think we’re on the same page. We’re both enjoying each other’s company, and engaging in a healthy sexual relationship as well. Basically, we’re friends who screw. And I think we’re only screwing each other.
My stomach summersaults at the prospect of Luke engaging in a physical relationship with another woman. We’ve never talked about exclusivity, but surely he’s not out manwhoring around, right? Even when he was younger and playing the field, he never willingly and knowingly hurt someone by sleeping around. He was always a having-fun-with-one-woman-right-now kind of guy. Sure, there was always another waiting in the wings, but when he was with a woman, she received his undivided attention.
God, I hope that’s still the case.
My stomach dives and I clamp my hand over my mouth. I take several deep, calming breaths and eradicate the thought of Luke with another woman from my brain. There’s no reason to get myself all worked up over it. It’s not like my heart is involved. I’ve managed to maintain a strong sexual relationship with my oldest friend without getting my heart tangled up in the crosshairs. I’m perfectly fine and capable of keeping this whole thing mess free.
Winning.
Except my stomach is anything but winning right now. Right now, it’s on the verge of showing me those two donuts I just ate, as well as the granola bar I had on my ride in to work.
“Are you all right?” Cassidy asks from across my desk, worry marring her pretty face.
I nod my head yes, while my head is screaming no. Sweat breaks out across my body, and I somehow manage to remove my jacket. I’m slightly dizzy and sweating buckets while my stomach dances the tango inside my gut. I’m miserable.
And then it hits me.
Jacobi had the flu last week. I must have contracted it from him when I stopped in to deliver chicken noodle soup and ginger ale. Sure, Penny has a chef and nanny who are more than capable of taking care of Jacobi while he’s sick, but there’s something rewarding about going over there and nursing him back to health. When he napped, I napped. When he was awake, we read books or played tic-tac-toe.
And now I have whatever forty-eight hour bug he had.
Awesome.
“You’re looking a little pale, Sid. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine,” I mumble, breathing through the nausea. “I think I’ve caught whatever flu bug Jacobi had last week.”
“I’ll grab you some water,” she offers before slipping out of my office and grabbing a bottle from the mini-fridge we keep stocked by her desk for meetings with clients.
Before she has a chance to return with the cold liquid, my stomach violently turns once more a final warning that I’m about to be sick. There’s no time to run to the restroom down the hall. I barely have time to grab my garbage can before I’m throwing up my breakfast.
“What the hell, Sid,” Cassidy says as she enters the room and runs towards my desk.
Dry heaves consume my body leaving me boneless and exhausted beyond belief. She pours a bit of water into a glass and sticks it by my face. The thought of putting something back into my body isn’t that appealing, but I know that I need to stay hydrated if I’m going to battle this flu bug.
“Are you sure it’s the flu? If I weren’t mistaken, I’d say you were knocked up.” Her words cause the air in the entire building to still. Hell, the entire universe. There’s no movement, no sound, no scent. Just my heart beating wildly in my chest at her comment.
I glance up and into her sparkling eyes.
I can’t be.
No.
Oh my God!
Three weeks ago.
No condom.
Luke.
Me.
Sex.
Crap on a cracker.
I’m pregnant.
* * *
It felt like I was on autopilot as I, somehow, made it through the rest of the day. I usually take Wednesdays off on weeks where an event falls on the weekend, which is most weekends, actually.
I ignore not one, but three text messages from Luke. The first one was a generic checking in and saying hi text. The next one was the ‘what are you doing later’ text with a dinner invite follow-up. My phone practically burns a hole in my cup holder as I speed my way towards a corner pharmacy. They’re a dime a dozen around this part of Vegas with everything you need from snacks, alcohol, cosmetics, and condoms.
At least, they’re there for those who remember them.
Determined to find one away from my usual route, where there’s less chance of running into someone I know, I finally settle on a newer CVS well off the beaten path. I park my Audi towards the back of the lot and sit there, staring at the sliding door. Shoppers stroll in and out, carrying on with their day. Unbeknownst to them, I’m practically hyperventilating in my rapidly warming car, searching for signs of someone I know, and trying to convince myself that I don’t need to buy a pregnancy test.
My stomach recoils at the thought.
Not at the thought of being pregnant–because deep down, I’ve always wanted to be a mother–but at the thought of doing it out of order. I always thought I’d finish school, establish a fantastic job where I not only use my degree, but am valued for my time and effort, find a great man with a steady 9 to 5 at a financial firm or law firm, get married, and pop out exactly three kids. All while maintaining my independence when it comes to my career.
But the entire plan went right out the window when a set of gorgeous green eyes, a killer smile with dimples, and tight blue jeans walked back into my life.
And now here I am: just shy of twenty-eight years old, without the career, banker slash lawyer, or marriage, psyching myself up to go inside and buy a pregnancy test, all so I can pee on the stick and confirm what I already know. And I do know. Even without the confirmation of the test, I feel it. No, not literally. But I feel something. I feel different. My boobs are swollen and tender, my stomach wants to upchuck at the thought of food, and I’m more exhausted than I was when I was up all night studying for a test in college.
So this next step is just a formality. I’m certain I would have come to this conclusion eventually whether Cass brought it up or not. I’m not dense. I know how this happened. Shit, I know when it happened. And I also know that I’m just as much at fault here as Luke.
Luke.
Holy shit, I’m going to have to tell Luke. This is so much worse than when I had to tell him I broke his favorite G.I. Joe when I was nine. Now, I have to tell him that we created a human being and that we are going to have to take care of it for the next eighteen years. If something happens to our child, it’s on us. There’s no taping the leg back on and hoping he won’t notice. (Yes, I tried that with the G.I. Joe.)
And what happens if he doesn’t want anything to do with the baby? Or me for that matter? What if parenthood isn’t what he wants? Luke has always been the wild, carefree, playboy type. What if he walks away, leaving me to take care of a child all by myself?
Well, then that’s what he does, and that’s what I’ll do.
There’s no way of knowing how he is going to react, so there’s no use in getting myself all worked up over something I can’t control. The only thing in my power right now is confirmation of whether or not I’m carrying his child. Everything else is just circumstance, all pending on the fact that there may be a plus sign reflecting back at me.
Grabbing my purse, and as much resolve as I can find, I step out of my car and head into the store.
Chapter Fourteen – Say What?
Luke
I glance down at my phone for the umpteenth time today. I’ve sent Sid a few texts that have gone unanswered. Not completely unusual if she’s in the middle of a consultation with a family or bridegroom. However, she’ll usually send me a reply between meetings. Today, however? Radio silence. And I don’t like it. Not one bit.
A late afternoon consultation with a prospective new client kept me at the office a bit longer than anticipated. Blake usually handles all the consultations, except in an instance where he wants another set of ears in the room to ask questions on things he may be overlooking. From the moment Farley Resources contacted our office for a complete new security installation, Blake felt like something was off. He came to me right away and told me about his concerns, which were legit, and that’s why I was in this afternoon’s meeting in our conference room that took twice as long as normal.
I’m heading towards Sidney’s place when my phone rings. I don’t even have to glance at the screen to know who’s calling me. She calls me every night about this time.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Luke, dear. How was your day?” she asks, her voice clear and rushed through the speakers.
“It was busy. We met with a new client today.”
“That’s nice, dear.” Her tone is completely condescending, as if she didn’t hear a word I just said. She has a reason for calling, I’m sure, and niceties aren’t it. “So, listen. I was just speaking with Jacquie Dover and she said that Kelly was hoping to go to the Ladies Guild Friday night at the club. I told her that I was sure you didn’t have plans and that you’d be available to escort her. Doesn’t that sound lovely?” she coos through the speakers.
My gut tightens. “No, Mom, that doesn’t sound lovely. I have plans Friday night.”
“Plans? What kind of plans?” she asks, somehow still shocked by my refusal. You’d think that after refusing a few weeks back, she’d get the picture that I didn’t want to date Kelly.
“Plans that involve someone other than Kelly,” I retort, steering my car into Sidney’s parking garage.
“Who?” she asks, offended.
“Not that it’s any of your business, Mom, but I’m seeing Sidney.” And that’s not the first time I’ve mentioned that, I think throwing my truck in park. She just doesn’t listen.
“The Rogen girl? She’s a friend, Luke. I thought you were just spending a little time catching up with her. As friends.”
“Even if that’s all it is, that’s my decision to make.” I turn off my truck and grab my phone from the cup holder, disengaging the Bluetooth device. “Listen, I’m enjoying spending my time with Sidney, and want to spend more time with her. I’m not interested in being set up right now, or anytime for that matter.”
Silence greets me, and I know instantly I’ve pissed her off. Even when I was a kid, I knew that silence was way worse than yelling. But the fact remains that I’m nearing thirty years old, and don’t need my mommy to set me up on dates or interfere in my love life. Not that this is love, mind you, but you get the point.
“Fine.” That one word is curt and direct, cutting like the knife it’s meant to be. She’s upset at me, which is fine. It definitely isn’t the first time. She’ll get over it; as long as she stops trying to set me up with the daughters of her country club cronies.
“I just got to Sidney’s place, Mom. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Mmmhmmm.” She hangs up before saying goodbye and I’m left shaking my head.
Trying to push our conversation out of my mind, I slip my phone into my pocket and make my way towards Sidney’s building. Night security greets me pleasantly, and nods towards the elevator. That tells me she’s home, but not returning my texts for some reason. With determined strides, I make my way towards the elevator, each movement bringing me closer to the penthouse. Closer to Sid.
I knock on her door and am greeted by silence. I don’t hear any noise from within her condo, which causes worry to bubble to the surface. Sure, there are dozens of reasons to explain why she’s not answering. Maybe she went for a walk. Maybe she’s taking a nap, or better yet, is naked in the shower. Or maybe she’s working out and has earbuds in. But even as all of those logical reasons parade through my mind, uneasiness still piques in the back of it.
The second knock comes louder and more insistent. The walls practically shake under the force of my knuckles, but I don’t care. She doesn’t have any neighbors up here for me to be concerned about.
Just as I’m about to raise my hand a third time, I hear the faint shuffling of feet from the outside of the door. My heart rate instantly starts to calm just knowing that she’s on the other side of the door. I can practically hear her breathing as she looks through the peephole. My hands are rested on the sides of her doorframe, as I look straight into that little circular window on her door. It’s as if I can see straight through the glass and into her soul. Normally, that kind of reaction might cause me to run at Mach 10 straight out of the building, but for some reason, all I want is for her to open her door so I can see her beautiful face with my own eyes and make sure she’s okay.
The sound of her deadbolt disengaging echoes through the hallway moments before she gingerly pulls open her door. And even then, she only opens it enough for me to catch a glimpse of half her face. A face that’s chalky in color with dark circles surrounding her n
ormally bright eyes.
“Luke,” she whispers hoarsely. “I’m not feeling so well right now. You should probably come back another time.”
“You’re sick?” I ask, not giving a shit that she just tried to push me away. I can’t leave.
“Yes,” she replies as I push against the door.
Sidney steps back, reluctantly, granting me access into her home. She’s wearing an oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts, which under any other circumstance would completely turn me on, but the look on her face lets me know that she’s far from feeling well.
The instinct to protect and nurture kicks in as I shut her door and throw the lock. “Come on,” I say as I wrap my arms around her body and scoop her into my arms. She goes effortlessly, relaxing instantly in my embrace.
Sidney rests her head against my cheek, her arms wrapping around my neck as I head towards her bedroom. Her room is dark and sullen, as the shades have already been pulled. Her bed is rumpled as if she’s already been lying down. It would explain why she hasn’t answered my texts today. If she’s been home, sick, then she hasn’t felt well enough to check her phone.
I gently deposit her on top of her bed and kiss her forehead. She doesn’t appear to be warm, but I take her temperature anyway. After retrieving a thermometer from the medicine cabinet in the master bathroom, I’m relieved when it says 98.7. No temperature.
“I’m fine now, Luke. Just a bit of a stomach virus. Jacobi had it, and I’m sure that I just caught a piece of it.”
She tries to push herself up on her elbows, but I stop her movement. “You need to rest. You looked like death when you answered the door,” I tell her, though noting that a little color has returned to her cheeks since I showed up on her doorstep.
“It’s passed,” she mumbles, looking down at her knees. “Thank you for stopping by. I’m just going to rest this evening.”
“Trying to kick me out, angel?” I ask, smirking at her attempt to dismiss me. “Not going to happen, gorgeous. I’m not leaving you, sick in bed, with no energy to take care of yourself.”