Lieutenant Commander Stud

by Chance Carter

  I leaned back against the headrest and watched as we turned down my mom’s street. We passed the house that she suggested I buy with Nolan, and a shudder worked through me.

  “You’re right.” I managed a smile, even though my trepidation still lingered under the surface. “Let’s do this.”

  Brendon parked and retrieved Fiona’s car seat while I checked my face in the mirror and stepped out of the car. He met me at the bottom of the driveway and grabbed my hand.

  “I’m excited,” he said as we walked up. “I’ve always wondered about where you grew up. I think this is a good thing.”

  His enthusiasm was almost catching. It made me feel better about my whole bubble hypothesis.

  I knocked on the front door, wondering how awkward this was going to be. I’d been dreading it for days.

  The door swung open to reveal my mother’s smiling face. This shocked me a little because, not only was she smiling, but it was a genuine, honest-to-God smile. No trace of sourness, no hint of contempt. She looked twenty years younger.

  “There you are!” she exclaimed, wrapping me in a tight hug before I could even process what was happening. “I was beginning to think you got lost on your way back home.”

  A few months ago, that comment would have been a dig. Now it was clearly a jest.

  “We were a little late setting off,” I explained, pulling back from the hug. “Fiona was being fussy.”

  Mom waved me off. “No worries, darling. Babies are always fussy, even when they grow into adults!” She turned to Brendon and gave him a kiss on the cheek and a much lighter hug than I’d received before dropping into a squat to Fiona’s level.

  “Oh, she’s just so beautiful,” Mom cooed. “I feel so incredibly lucky. Come on in, come on in.”

  She disappeared into the house and Brendon and I followed. My anxiety slowly began to lessen, leaving space for warm nostalgia as I sucked in the familiar floral smell of the house. Mom liked to have fresh flowers at all times, and her current beau was keeping her up to her neck in them, I observed as I walked into the living room.

  Mom ushered us onto the couch and took our drink orders. I was just glad I could drink wine again.

  The smile she gave me as she passed me my wine made me feel like all the bad blood between us had never existed. That feeling was accompanied by a glorious rush of relief as I realized that I’d been worrying myself sick for no reason. Everything was going to be okay, just like Brendon said.

  For the first few minutes, Mom sat in front of Fiona and stroked her tiny hand while she asked me questions about how things went at the hospital. She told me the story of my birth, and we laughed at some of the parallels—including both the dads being completely clueless and running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

  “I was not clueless,” Brendon defended.

  “Not about the process of birth, darling,” Mom said, touching him on the arm. “About how to deal with a woman in labor.”

  I laughed. “At one point, he whipped out a stress ball like he thought it was the holy grail. I threw it at his head.”

  Brendon took on a pained expression, but I saw the amusement in his eyes nonetheless. Plus, I knew he’d gladly be flogged in the streets if it meant I improved my relationship with my mother. As somebody who came from such a large, close-knit family, it distressed him to see me so estranged from my only living parent.

  Another glass of wine and the conversation changed to encompass Bridgefield life. Not much had changed since I left, but Mom wanted to make sure I didn’t miss a thing. She told me about the refurbishment at Fred’s Fishing Hole, and how she recently spotted a man with a man-bun on the street.

  “It’s beginning to feel very cosmopolitan,” she said proudly, though I knew she would hate it if it ever did get that way.

  “Nolan’s got a new girlfriend.” There was no antagonistic edge to her voice like there usually was when she talked about my ex-boyfriend. Then again, maybe it was just that I no longer heard it that way. Maybe some of the issues we had to get over were my problem as well. Imagine that.

  “Oh yeah?” I asked. “And what’s she like?”

  Mom rolled her eyes. “She’s a piece of work. Thinks she’s Kim Kardashian, or whoever the young women are idolizing these days. Nolan struts her around town like she’s some sort of trophy, even though I can’t think of a single person here who’d go near her with a ten-foot pole.” she clucked her tongue. “He’s clearly still bitter about your break up.”

  I expected this to make me feel some sort of malicious glee, but it didn’t. I just felt kind of bad for him. Everything that was wrong with his life he obviously brought on himself, but I still considered myself to be extremely fortunate to have had things work out for me the way they had. I hoped that one day Nolan would find that kind of happiness too.

  “How’s the job going?” she asked.

  I ignored the fact that she still referred to what I did as “the job” in a way that clearly demonstrated she did not understand it. The fact that she was asking about it in general and with a positive tone was good.

  “Well I’m on maternity leave now,” I told her, “but Brendon and I have some big plans for when I’m back.”

  Brendon’s eyes lit up. “We’re planning on opening a couple new stores in the new year,” he said. “Aurora’s designs have given the company an excellent boost in sales and exposure. Our stock is at the highest it’s ever been.”

  “That’s wonderful news,” Mom said, nodding. “Simply wonderful.”

  There was no sarcasm.

  We stayed overnight in Bridgefield’s only hotel, even though my mom insisted we stay with her. I didn’t want to crowd her too much, and I also wanted to leave on a positive note. I’d take these happy memories with me back to New York, and maybe next time I came for a visit I wouldn’t dread it so much.

  Next time we came for a visit, though, we were definitely staying at one of the nicer hotels a town or two over. The Bridgefield Inn was hardly a fleabag, but I’d apparently gotten accustomed to a much higher standard of comfort.

  “It’s certainly no Fox Regent,” Brendon commented in a light tone as we stepped into the suite.

  I dragged my eyes from the garish wall decor to the old-as-nails TV balanced on the far wall, then to the godawful drapes. I tried to imagine any of Calypso’s girls agreeing to work in a room like this and couldn’t.

  “You were the one who wanted to stay the night.” I ribbed him in the side.

  Brendon laughed. “Hey, we had a good night, didn’t we?”

  We had, so I didn’t argue any more with him. Instead, I wrapped my arms around his torso and lowered my face against his chest.

  “Being back here is so strange for me,” I said, voice muffled by his shirt. “I remember living here, but it was like it was another life. It feels more like I’m remembering a dream than anything else.”

  Brendon’s arms wrapped around me and he lowered his lips to my forehead. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

  I shrugged. “Neither, I suppose. Just a thing. And you know what else?”

  “What?”

  I pulled back to look at him, smiling when I saw the look of pure adoration on his face.

  “You were right. Coming here was a good idea.”

  Brendon’s eyebrows shot up and he grinned. “I was, was I?”

  “Don’t get too cocky.” I made a show of rolling my eyes. “You know it looks too good on you.”

  He dropped his voice to a husky whisper. “Maybe that’s why I do it.”

  “You do it because you’re insufferable.”

  “Impossible.” Brendon kissed me, just a brief but loving peck. “You’re living proof that I am, indeed, very sufferable.”

  What could I say? He was.

  Epilogue

  Five Years Later…

  The back of my neck prickled with sweat, and my breaths were coming heavy and fast. I panted and called out, “Stop!” Then I rested my han
ds on my hands on my hips and tried to look as relaxed as possible while I waited for the two troublemakers ahead of me to come to a halt.

  Fiona stopped first. She was always the best at listening to directions, which was something Brendon tried to take credit for but was clearly my doing. Jude, the little shit, made a show of zigzagging around lamp posts with his arms flung out like he was an airplane before coming to a screeching halt in front of me. Fiona, seeing that her cousin had abandoned their game, came toddling over to my side.

  “What did I say about running?” I asked in a stern voice.

  Fiona had the good sense to look at least a little ashamed. Jude grinned, and rather than seeing his father in his features, for a second I caught a glance of his uncle. Not Brendon, either—Keilan. Lord help us all if he turned out like Keilan.

  “We just wanted to go look at the ride,” Jude offered.

  Brendon, Avery, and Morgana finally caught up with us. I’d taken off running after the kids the second Jude grabbed Fiona’s hand and made a break for it.

  “Jude,” Avery said, voice even more stern than mine.

  Apparently just saying his name was enough to force an apology from the little brat. Then again, Jude idolized his dad so it wasn’t much of a surprise.

  “Sorry, Auntie Aurora,” he said with mock sincerity that was almost believable.

  I couldn’t stay mad at him. “Don’t do it again.” I ruffled his hair and socked him on the ear playfully. “I’ll send Brendon after you next time.”

  Julian didn’t act like this in public normally. He and Aurora were both still dizzy with the excitement of the theme park, and I understood completely. Disneyland was an exciting place. It was my second visit too and I was nearly as jazzed up as the kids.

  Brendon wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pressed a kiss into the top of my head. “Next time, let me go after them,” he said, just low enough for me to hear.

  I laughed. “Sorry. I went into panicked mother mode.”

  He chuckled, taking Fiona’s hand when she reached for him.

  It was a picture-perfect scene, even if I could never get Fiona’s fiery hair to lie straight and Jude constantly had some sort of dirt or food on his face. I swear, Morgana spent half of her day cleaning him up. She had a never-ending supply of wet wipes in her purse and an indefatigable dedication to her child’s cleanliness.

  “I’m going to need to sit down soon,” Morgana groaned. “Gosh, my feet are swollen.”

  I glanced at her pregnant belly and a twinge of jealousy hit me straight in the gut. Things had been crazy with Lock Knocks since we started expanding, and now we were the highest grossing children’s store on the continent. We even opened our first store in Europe at the beginning of the year, but now things were beginning to slow down. Thankfully. I loved my job, even when it was crazy like it had been for the past couple of years, but I was ready to settle more into family life.

  “I’ll sit with you,” I offered. “I’ve been feeling run down all day.”

  Morgana smiled and I took her arm while the men corralled our children and headed over toward the ride they’d been ogling.

  “What’s got you run down?” she asked.

  We sat down on the bench and she let out a long sigh, rubbing the top of her belly.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I guess I’ve just been busy with work and Fiona and all that, and it’s started taking a toll. I’m almost constantly sleepy.”

  “Huh.” She nodded thoughtfully. “And when was your last period?”

  I swiveled my head to look at her. She wore a smirk Mona Lisa would have been jealous of.

  “I’m not pregnant,” I said, muttering afterward, “Much as I’d like to be.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said. “These Ralston babies are tiring. I don’t know about your first pregnancy, but the first sign I had for both of mine was that I was too bone tried to do anything for the first month or so.” She shrugged. “Just thought it was worth asking.”

  I stared out toward the lineup that Brendon and the kids were in. He saw me looking and gave me a jovial wave. I waved back.

  “We haven’t been trying,” I said.

  Morgana grinned. “You weren’t trying the first time either.”

  “True, but what are the chances?”

  She sighed and tilted her face up to the sunlight, eyes closed and a dreamy expression on her face.

  “I could calculate the odds for you if you want, but I’m way too pregnant and grumpy to speculate without a calculator and some stats.”

  I accepted her answer and we lapsed into a comfortable silence.

  Could I be pregnant? I was late this month, which was unusual, and I had been—as Morgana stated—bone tired. Maybe it was possible.

  My heart leapt at the thought, and I couldn’t keep the smile from my face. I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high, but even if I wasn’t pregnant at least I knew that I wanted to be.

  The gang came back from the ride, chatting excitedly and raring to go to the next attraction. Morgana and I, under the guise of needing to run back to the hotel to grab something, slipped off to the pharmacy just outside the park’s gates.

  Hours later, the sky filled with light. Starbursts of brilliant color, red and green and blue and gold, cascaded from the heavens like thousands of shimmering diamonds. The kids were entranced, their little faces turned to the sky in wonder. Fiona held one of my hands in a tight grip, and was likely squeezing her dad’s hand just as much.

  I looked over at Brendon, at the color splashing over his face. The music swelled in the background and I sensed the finale wasn’t far off. I tugged Fiona in front of me and wrapped my arms around her shoulders while I cozied up next to my husband. He wrapped his arm around my waist and held me close, pressing a brief kiss against my hair.

  “Hey baby?” I asked.

  I worried he might not hear me over the music and thunderous explosions, but Brendon tilted his face down to look into my eyes. His lips curled lazily and he pecked the tip of my nose.

  “Yes, baby?”

  A particularly vibrant firework burst into thousands of sizzling white lights that dripped like water droplets down the horizon, highlighting his face in shadow. My pulse thrummed in my throat.

  “We’ve had a great life together, but there’s one moment we’ve never had that I’ve always wanted.”

  “And what moment is that?”

  “The moment where I tell you I’m pregnant and you lose your mind with happiness.”

  He straightened. “Baby…”

  I couldn’t hold back any more. The smile burst from my face like sunbeams and my eyes prickled with happy tears. “I’m pregnant.”

  And, as the sky continued to explode overhead, the man of my dreams lost his damn mind. Just like I hoped he would.

  Claiming His Virgin

  CHANCE CARTER

  Chapter 1

  Jane peers at her willowy reflection in the mirror, then standing on her tiptoes, pliés around for good measure. She halts, when she notices a run in her tights going straight up the back of her leg.

  “Oh shoot,” she curses. “Everything is falling apart these days. What next?”

  A loud and intense knock sounds at the door, interrupting her musing. It startles her for two reasons. One, no one ever knocks that loudly, because two, no one ever comes to her door.

  Squinting through the peep hole, she sees Paulo the landlord. His dark, greasy hair and large face—now sweaty from climbing three flights of stairs—make him look even meaner than usual.

  Jane freezes, hoping he will just go away.

  He knocks again, even louder than before.

  Oh, not today. Just go away, Jane thinks to herself, trying desperately not to make a sound.

  “Jane Bryden, I know you’re in there. I am officially delivering your final notice to pay your rent. If you don’t pay me by next week then you are evicted from your apartment. You hear me?”

  He slides a
piece of paper under the door before walking away, the loud thunk of his shoes emphasizing that this is his place and his rules.

  Jane’s breath returns to normal when she knows for sure he is gone.

  “Uggghhh, for real?” she groans. “When will the universe give me a break? I’m trying my best and it’s just never enough.”

  As she moves to reach for the paper, she stubs her toe against the tiled floor, a feat, it seems that only she could manage. She cries out in painful frustration.

  “Why did I have to move to New York, anyway? For a childish dream of ballet? Where has that got me? Absolutely nowhere. Literally, nowhere. I’m, like, days away from being homeless. This city is dirty. The people are mean. The other ballerinas don’t like me,” Jane says out loud, starting to sob. “I will never fit in here.”

  On her coffee table is a greeting card her grandmother sent her. It has a brightly colored butterfly surrounded by tiny, reflecting sparkles. She moves to pick it up and reread it another time.

  Never give up on your dreams—you were born to fly.

  It is her grandmother’s message of love, written in her most beautiful handwriting.

  Jane sighs, trying to muster the gall to keep internalizing her grandma’s message when everything around her is speaking to the contrary.

  “Oh Grandma, I really hope so. I’m about ready to give up.”

  Jane goes back into her room and flops down flat on her back on the twin size bed, grabbing her teddy bear.

  “You’re the only one who gets me, Fluffy. You’re the only one I have in my life.”

  Her soft, long, dirty blonde hair spread over the pillow, she reaches over to the other side of the bed and wishes someone was there for her. She’s never had a boyfriend. There were guys interested in her, but her mother warned her to stay away from them, saying they would just mess with her head and make her forget all about her dreams and who she is.

  She hasn’t even made out with a guy. She kissed Brian, a coworker, in the wine cellar of the restaurant where she worked part-time, but then she found out he had a girlfriend. Jane was crushed and ashamed for letting herself be duped so easily, and vowed never to do something like that again unless she absolutely, positively knows the guy and where he is in his life.