Forever His Desire

by Valerie Lynne

  LESS THAN FIVE MINUTES had passed when a light tap sounded from the door. Before she could respond, it creaked open. “Hello, Jenn.” Dr. Javier Fuentes swept into the room with a laptop stuffed beneath his arm. Tall and lanky, the gynecologist immediately began to apologize for being late. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. One of my patients unexpectedly went into labor at thirty-seven weeks.”

  “Your receptionist informed me of that,” Jennifer answered stiffly.

  “Had a little girl with a set of pipes, I tell you.” Dr. Fuentes removed a pair of purple gloves from the counter and systematically tugged at each fingertip.

  That’s nice, but I don’t want to talk about that. Jennifer rolled her eyes. I just want to find out what’s wrong with me so I can haul ass out of here.

  His lips curved into a geeky smile as he snapped the rubber into place. “Small but mighty. I’m certain her parents will be able to bring her home within a very short period of time.”

  Perspiration glistened above Jennifer’s brow, her body temperature steadily rising. She swept the back of her hand over her glistening hairline. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten me.”

  “Never. You’re unforgettable.” Dr Fuentes rolled a stool adjacent to her and sat down. “Diana mentioned that you might partner together next year at Valentine’s Day.”

  “Yup.” The last thing Jennifer wanted to do was discuss a potential business agreement between herself and the good doctor’s wife.

  “I think it’s an excellent idea,” Dr. Fuentes rambled, opening his laptop. “Di also told me that if your collaboration is a success, the two of you might expand into Easter and Christmas promotions.”

  With a forced smile, Jennifer did her best to be amiable. As co-owner of The Literary Ladies Book Nook and Café located in Newport’s famous Brick Market Place, Jennifer managed the café section of the shop while her best friend, Victoria Hathaway managed the literary end. “I’ve reason to believe it will be a profitable venture. The demand and increase in sales from the gift box orders sold over the last two Christmases were what led me to approach Diana about collaborating together.”

  Dr. Fuentes turned his attention away from the laptop, excitement filling his voice as he proceeded to continue with the casual conversation. “Di gave me one of your gift boxes last Christmas.”

  Can’t he see I’m dying here? Calm down, Jenn. It’s not Javier’s fault that doctor’s offices remind me of Momma’s illness. “Yes, I remember,” she said.

  “Honestly, if I hadn’t known they were made locally, I would have sworn I was on vacation in Paris again. And those chocolate truffles...” He winked. “Don’t tell my wife I told you this, but it nearly killed me to share them with her.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.” Jennifer willed herself to smile. “We’ll have to talk about it more next weekend.”

  “Right, Di mentioned that she’d made plans to meet up at O’Halloran’s. It should be a good time.” Dr. Fuentes folded his hands onto his lap. “Just wait until you hear about the ideas Diana has for Victoria and Henry’s wedding.”

  Jennifer fisted her hands atop her lap. No wonder he has a waiting room full of people. At this rate, I’ll never get out of this place.

  “Geez, I guess I’d better stop talking and get back to business. We’ll have to catch up next weekend.” Finally, Dr. Fuentes averted his attention back to the computer and opened the lid. “Just give me one moment. I want to take one last look at my notes.” Slowly—agonizingly sedately, Javier studied the screen. “Seems to be about right,” he muttered under his breath.

  Oh my God! Jennifer tugged on the neckline of the makeshift gown. Why isn’t he saying anything? Her heart thumped. It felt as if someone had tightened a belt around her chest, the pressure was so intense. She couldn’t breathe. Something has to be terribly wrong. “Am I going to die?” she blurted.

  Instantly, his head popped up from the computer, his dark eyes focused on her. “Not at all, Jenn.”

  “Then why aren’t you talking? What’s wrong with me?” Jennifer’s panic was quickly replaced by annoyance when she noticed the amusement in the doctor’s eyes. “Stop smirking at me,” she snapped.

  “I’m sorry to have worried you. I was calculating your due date.”

  “My what?” Javier needed to stop giving her the damn runaround and tell it to her straight. If she were going to need treatment, then she’d have to rearrange her entire schedule. “I don’t want to die. Just tell me when I will begin chemo?” Jennifer said. At thirty-one, she was the same age that her mother had been when she received her cancer diagnosis. “I have to make arrangements with Vicki because I’m sure that I’ll have to take some time off from the shop.”

  Dr. Fuentes leaned forward to pat her hand. “I assure you that you aren’t going to die. Quite the opposite in fact.”

  “Look, Javier, I don’t have time for this shit. I’ve been a nervous wreck for days. As you know, my mother died of ovarian cancer. My entire life I’ve lived in fear of being diagnosed with it too. It wasn’t easy, both mentally or physically, for me to come here. I don’t care if you’re my friend or not, you’re still a fucking doctor and I hate doctors.”

  “Jenn, please listen to me,” Dr. Fuentes tried to interrupt.

  “I’ve taken time from work to see you, and now you’re talking in code.” Jennifer smacked her palms onto her thighs. “I’m sitting here half naked in this smelly hospital gown so you can poke and prod me like cattle and you’re just pussyfooting around the issue.”

  “You’re pregnant,” Dr. Fuentes blurted and then added, “and I’m sorry about the hospital gown. It’s Stacie’s first day on the job. She hasn’t learned yet that every patient isn’t required to undress.”

  Either Dr. Fuentes was a fucking loon or she was in desperate need of a hearing aid. “Not possible.” Jennifer pointed her finger at the laptop. “You’d better double-check those results.”

  “Jenn, there is absolutely no element of doubt about your test results. You are 100% pregnant and by my calculation you’re seven weeks along.”

  “Don’t fuck with me, Javier,” Jennifer huffed, sliding down from the examination table. “It only happened once without a condom. What are the odds?” She whipped her folded jeans off the nearby chair. Heedless of the dressing gown, she shimmied them up and over her thighs.

  “Only abstinence is one hundred percent effective.” Dr. Fuentes lightly touched her arm, stopping her as she pulled at the zipper. “Congratulations, Jenn, you’re going to become a mother.”

  Chapter 33

  Jennifer

  A few hours later, Jennifer stepped dazedly into her spacious living room. The condo’s normally comforting gray-hued walls did little to thwart her nerves. Pregnant? She tossed her keys onto a side table. A Baby. How? Jennifer flung herself down onto the couch. So stupid! You know damn well how, she chastised herself, clasping an oversized throw pillow to her chest.

  Although they’d only had unprotected sex once, evidence seemed to support that Andre was one fertile man. Two unwanted pregnancies with two different women both because of a momentary moment of recklessness.

  Jennifer sighed, curling up into a fetal position. Had Rosalyn not broken them apart, she was sure that they’d be married and this little unexpected bundle of so-called joy wouldn’t be an issue. Hell, they’d probably have at least two babies running around by now. She liked sex. Andre liked sex. Together, their attraction was off the charts. It was a no-brainer that they’d raise a large family together. Those were the facts. However, a baby really didn’t fit into that plan at the moment.

  She clamped her eyelids shut, a tear escaping down her cheek. Knowing Andre almost as well as she knew herself, she had no doubt he’d claim to be happy. After all, since they’d been kids, their plan had been to make babies together. But they’d only just reconnected. Maybe it was selfish of her, but she wanted as much of him to herself as possible—at least for a little while. She already had to sh
are him with Michael. A baby would doubtlessly be just one more obstacle to complicate that.

  She must have fallen asleep as the sound of the doorbell buzzing startled her about an hour later. Rubbing her eyes, Jennifer scuffed toward the door, squinting as she switched the overhead light on along the way. Must have forgotten his key. She yawned, stopping to glance at her reflection through the hallway mirror. Her pale skin looked sickening whiter than usual and bore a striking contrast to the dark shadows surrounding her pink swollen eyelids. She forked her fingertips through her hair, mussing it into a semblance of respectability. The doorbell buzzed again. “I’m coming,” she called out, running her open palms down the front of her wrinkled, black tunic and then opened the door.

  “Jenn!” Michael Jenkins exclaimed as he burst through the entrance. “What took you so long?”

  “Hey there, Little Man,” Jennifer squatted down and opened her arms wide, laughing when the exuberant three-year-old flung his arms around her neck. She squeezed him against her, joy rippling through her at the sound of his childish giggles. “I’m so happy to see you,” she said. “Where’s your daddy?”

  “Right there.” Michael pointed toward the doorway.

  Tall, broad, and sinfully handsome, Officer Andre Jenkins ambled into the room, clicking the condo’s door closed behind him. His full, luscious lips were turned down as he narrowed his eyes on them. “My son decided not to listen to me, forgoing my instructions,” he said, his voice deep and filled with authority. “I’ve told Michael a million times not to stray from me. Did he listen? No. As soon as I punched the code in the keypad, whoosh, full speed ahead.”

  “Why didn’t you wait for Daddy,” Jennifer asked the child, shocked by Andre’s admonishment. Normally, he was laid-back and if anything, in her opinion, a bit too easy on Michael. This display of crankiness was completely out of character for him. Later, when they were alone, she’d have to find out what was eating at him.

  Michael hung his head, his shoulders slouched as Andre continued to scold him. “I don’t tell you these things to hear myself speak. I say them for your safety.”

  Of course, her boyfriend was right, Michael was only a little boy. In a blink of an eye, anything could happen. God forbid he try something like that in public. A child molester could lurk in the shadows and abduct Michael. Even worse, a drunk driver could lose control of their car as they sped by and hit him.

  Stop it! Jennifer squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the evil thoughts, and pulled Michael tighter to her chest.

  “Don’t coddle him, Jenn,” Andre said. “It’s not helping.”

  Shooting daggers in his direction, Jennifer tried to gain some control over the situation. It was obvious that Michael was wrong, but so was Andre—he was acting like a domineering ass.

  Loosening her hold around Michael, she craned her neck back to look at the child. “Listen to me, Michael. Daddy wants to protect you. You need to listen to him, okay?” Jennifer placed a finger under Michael’s chin, lifting his face towards hers.

  Eyes big and round, Michael’s lip began to tremble. “But I waited all day to play with Brûlée.”

  As hard as she tried, Jennifer couldn’t stop herself from smiling when she was met with Michael’s sorrowful brown eyes. Since he was a baby, Gladys would frequently bring him to the condo, much to Rosalyn’s dismay, along with an extra chicken casserole, as an excuse for the visit. Brûlée was still a kitten when Michael was born. Jennifer had watched as Brûlée and Michael had grown up together, both of them capturing a piece of her heart along the way. Anyway, how could she not smile? Michael really was damn adorable and he looked so much like his father. “Okay?” she repeated her previous question softly.

  “Okay,” Michael sniffled.

  “Now, why don’t you go find Brûlée? Last time I saw her, she was lounging on my bed,” Jennifer suggested, lowering her arms from around the child. Instantly, Michael twisted around and skipped toward the staircase.

  Satisfied that Michael was out of earshot, Jennifer turned her attention toward Andre. A jolt of uncertainty swept through her. What the hell was wrong with him? Arms crossed, he glared back at her.

  Jennifer threw her arms up. “What?”

  “You blew me off,” he said.

  She made a tsking sound. “I did no such thing.”

  Andre flung his keys beside hers onto the coffee table. “I asked you to call me after your doctor’s appointment. Didn’t you think I might be concerned when you didn’t?”

  Shit!

  In her panic, Jennifer had forgotten all about her promise to call him after her appointment. “Javier had an emergency, and it took much longer than I anticipated. By the time I got home, I was exhausted and fell asleep on the couch,” Jennifer explained.

  Andre walked across the living room, stopping to stand before her. Looking down at her, his keen brown eyes studied her. “You’ve been crying,” he finally said. “Tell me what’s going on, Jenn.”

  I’m freaking out because I just found out I’m having your baby. I don’t know how you’ll react, and I’m scared to think that you’ll believe I tricked you into this.

  Shrugging, Jennifer released a forced laugh. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re going to be stuck with me for a long time. I’m not dying.”

  “This isn’t a joke,” Andre remarked bitterly.

  Jennifer stepped closer, purposely rubbing her breasts against Andre’s chest. She lowered her voice into a sultry whisper. “Neither is this.” She reached up to cup his face between her palms and pulled his mouth to hers, flicking her tongue across his lips.

  Andre released a low growl and curled a muscular arm around her waist. Deepening the kiss, he crushed her to his hard chest.

  “Eww. Gross,” Michael interrupted, barreling down the staircase. “Kissing is icky.”

  “Dammit,” Andre murmured against her lips as he broke the kiss.

  Placing her hand over her mouth, Jennifer tried to stifle her laugh. “I see you found Brûlée.”

  “Yup.” Michael flashed a toothless grin and bounded into the room with poor Brûlée, dangling limply from his little arms. Meow! The petite black cat purred loudly as Michael took a seat on the couch, settling her onto the middle of his lap. “I’m hungry,” Michael announced after a few minutes of petting the cat.

  “I’m ready to eat whenever the two of you are,” Jennifer answered.

  “Let’s go,” Andre said, removing his car keys from the table. “It’s time to stuff our faces.”

  Chapter 34

  Jennifer

  Jennifer’s torso rocked forward, her hands clasped against her stomach. Unladylike wheezing sounds escaped from her throat. It was amazing how a few hours with her two favorite males could lift her spirts. “Stop it, both of you. Now. My belly is too full for your foolishness,” she gasped, laughing heartily.

  “That’s because you ate four slices of pizza with pepperoni and extra cheese,” Michael reminded her from his seat in the back of Andre’s F-150 truck.

  “Hey, I think you may grow up to be a mathematician.” Jennifer peered over her shoulder at Andre who looked rather proud of himself behind the wheel.

  “What’s a matamadician?” Michael questioned.

  “Someone who is good with numbers, like your daddy is.” Jennifer turned around to pat Michael on the knee. “Anyway, kiddo, you didn’t exactly eat like a bird.”

  “Gluttons—all of us.” Andre chuckled, his mood seemingly better now that he’d forgiven her for worrying him. He turned the steering wheel to drive through one of Newport’s residential streets.

  She was about to ask Michael about preschool when they pulled into the driveway. Rosalyn grimaced toward them from her post on the steps. “Hope her face doesn’t freeze like that,” Jennifer said under her breath.

  Andre shot her a warning glance. Then he turned off the truck’s ignition.

  Jennifer rolled her eyes. “It’s Friday, Andre. Can’t the kid live a little?” />
  “I’ll be back in a minute,” Andre said, then jumped from the driver’s seat onto the pavement. “Come on, Michael, your mother is waiting for you.” He unbuckled Michael from his car seat, hoisted the child into his arms, helping him exit from the back seat, and lowered Michael onto the ground.

  Such a bitch. Jennifer seethed as Rosalyn pointed to her wristwatch. It wasn’t a big deal. They were only a few minutes late. It was as if the woman’s sole purpose in life was to ruin everything when the three of them hung out together. They couldn’t even enjoy pizza night without her giving Andre a hard time.

  From the passenger seat, she watched as Andre followed Michael across the driveway. At the porch steps, he knelt down and hugged his son, placing a kiss on his cheek. Andre’s the best dad. The smile that had crept over her lips quickly disappeared as doubt set in. Surely, he’ll love our baby as much as Michael, won’t he?

  Suddenly, Michael twisted away from Andre and dashed down the front steps, running straight toward the truck.

  “What are you doing?” Jennifer asked, startled to see him tug the passenger side door open.

  “I forgot to give you a kiss goodbye,” Michael said. Using the truck’s running board for leverage, he climbed up onto the edge of the passenger seat and onto her lap. His small arms twisted around her neck, his little fingers tugging on her auburn hair.

  Warmth spread through her. Why couldn’t Michael have been her son and Andre her husband? She loved them both so much it hurt. It was her dream to reside together as one happy family. Foolishness. Michael wasn’t her son and Andre wasn’t her husband. Loving families living within white picket fences were fiction. The Hallmark movie that played in her mind would never come to fruition. As much as she loved the child, Michael belonged to someone else.