by Lynn Rider
“That shit could go on all night long. You may want to pull up a chair… if you’re into that sort of thing,” a familiar deep voice says as its owner steps into the small space next to me. His frame is larger than average, and by the way his long-sleeved shirt molds perfectly to his body, not a muscle is overlooked in his workout routine. My breath hitches when he turns his amused grin on me. I recognize those eyes, only his are edgier, wiser than the original set. The slight scruff on his jaw line does nothing to hide the square form that I know is there. His masculine nose is only slightly askew; you’d have to study him for imperfections to notice it on his otherwise perfect face. Probably once broken.
“Twins,” he offers, clarifying my curiosity.
“Shit, I would have thought the mold was broken once perfection was made.”
His boisterous laugh has me realizing I said that aloud. I clap my hand over my mouth and give him an apologetic smile.
“I love a girl who speaks her mind. Drew Merritt, Reeder’s better-looking brother,” he says playfully.
“Hi, Drew Merritt, I’m Amber West.” I return the same playful tone.
“Now I see what all the fuss is about,” he says as his eyes scan my body. I see the appreciation in his eyes before he centers them back on mine. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“No, thank you. I don’t drink,” I answer, holding up my water.
“Where’s the fun in that?” He smiles and bumps his shoulder against mine. I’m immediately set at ease with his familiar, easy smile.
“Hey, you must have missed the announcement. She’s off-limits,” Reeder barks sternly from behind us. I turn with a smile, loving that he’s taken on the protector role.
“Just making friendly conversation. Aren’t you supposed to be on stage any minute?” Drew answers with a bite to his words.
“Yeah, I need you to keep an eye on Emma.”
“Done,” Drew says, pulling Emma toward him gently and parking her in a stool across the table. “She’ll be right here. Safe and sound.” He glances back at Reeder with an ominous look.
“I’m not a child, you two. You may be pissed at one another, but it’s time you kiss and make up. And Drew, leave my friend the fuck alone,” Emma spits out.
I find her outburst funny, and before long both Reeder and Drew are laughing with me. Reeder pecks Emma on the cheek before climbing onto the stage.
“First time seeing him perform?”
Drew leans into my personal space. I see Emma narrow her eyes before he smiles innocently at her.
“Yes, I’ve heard him play guitar, but never sing.” I smile.
“He’s pretty damn amazing, and I’m not just saying that.” My eyes stay trained on him for a second longer, and for the first time since stepping up to the table his cocky grin is gone, a prideful one replacing it. As the music starts, my eyes are drawn to the stage briefly, before returning to Drew. I study him while he watches Reeder. He’s handsome and rugged, bordering bad boy, but the genuine fondness he’s casting at Reeder tells me he holds it in balance with a softness you wouldn’t expect.
I turn my attention back to Reeder. His voice is rough, manly, and then at other times like silk. His ability to change it up amazes me. As I sit lost in his words, I know that if the right person walked into this bar, he’d be big one day. A pang of sadness hits me that although I have some of those connections, I can’t reach out to them without letting out my secret. I glance over to Emma and see her glaring at Drew, but he’s so wrapped in his brother that he doesn’t seem to notice.
“So are you dating anyone?” Drew asks after the first couple of songs.
“I’m pregnant,” I say casually, knowing the impact my words will have. I pull away and see his face washed of all color. Emma looks at me curiously when she sees the effect my comment has on Drew. I smile sweetly and give her a wink before she smiles, satisfied with whatever I did.
Amber…
“How is that even possible?” Emma asks sitting forward.
“I don’t know, it just happens,” I shrug, laughing.
“You have an orgasm or two in your dreams and you’re not asleep now, why?” She giggles.
“Because they always involve Austin and when I wake up and realize he’s not in my life anymore, they feel more like nightmares.” My sad eyes look up from the water bottle in my hands to find her sympathetic expression.
“I’m sorry, Amber.”
“I don’t know if I made the right choice in leaving,” I admit meekly.
She watches me pensively for several long minutes before speaking. “Have you called Kelly?” Guilt washes over me with her question. I haven’t talked to Kelly, and knowing her own due date is fast approaching makes me feel even worse.
“I can’t,” My throat closes, preventing me from saying anymore.
Again Emma sits quiet, unsure of what to say. “I think you need a vibrator. You know, to get the deed done before you go to sleep.” Her playful waggle of her brow line brings a smile to my lips.
“I think you should call Kelly. She’s been your closest friend since you were kids. Make her see she needs to give you time and that you need her support.”
“Yep, it’s official, you don’t know Kelly,” I say dryly, knowing she’d never agree. She loves Austin almost as much as she loves me, probably more these days. This is the kind of drama she’d jump right in the middle of and take control. She’s always felt we were better together than apart, and right now I don’t need her influence clouding my already foggy brain.
“Amber, honey, you’re going to be okay. I promise. Things have a way of working themselves out and this is no exception,” she says with the confidence I’ve come to expect from Emma. I sure hope she’s right because I’m wavering everyday, getting closer and closer to calling him.
“I have to get ready for my shift. I’m working three to eleven today. You gonna be okay?” She stands up to go.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
She bends down, kissing my head. “That’s what friends are for. Call me or Reeder if you need anything. He’s playing tonight, but Drew will be here at some point so if you need something he can call him. By the way, thanks for blowing him off last weekend. Most of my friends fall victim to his looks, charms—actually, I don’t know what they fall victim to. I just know that Drew is the love ’em and leave ’em heartbroken kind of guy.” She lets out a short, sarcastic laugh.
“Uh, Emma, I’m actually not in a place to be picking up guys.” I point to my belly.
“Call if you need anything.” She smiles softly.
“Thanks. I’ll be fine,” I say before she nods and walks out.
The soft knock on my door wakes me in a near dark apartment. I turn on the lamp next to the couch and glance at the clock. 6:10pm. The knock comes again, this time a little harder. I shake the cloud of sleep off as I walk to the door. Drew’s large frame fills the space as I look through the peephole.
“Hey,” I say, groggy from sleep as I open the door.
“Were you sleeping?” His deep voice is softer than I remember.
“Yeah, it’s okay. Come in.”
“I wanted to check on you. Emma sent me a text saying you were home alone,” he says, searching my eyes.
“I’m fine. I was just tired.” I turn for the kitchen. “You here for the weekend?” I ask, getting some water and stepping back into the living room.
“Yeah, I have to check out a few gyms. Wanna come?” he offers, catching me off guard.
“Why?”
“Because I want you to.”
“Drew, surely you have better people to be with tonight.”
“Can’t think of one.”
“Have you tried?” I ask.
“Nope, only one person on my mind right now and she’s standing here being difficult.” His brows lift, waiting for me to argue. “Go in there and do what you need to do to get ready.” He demands, pointing down the hall when I don’t reply.
Drew is
sitting on the couch ten minutes later with an ultrasound picture in his hand. “I’m sorry. It was just sitting here on the coffee table,” he says apologetically.
“It’s fine. I was showing it to Emma earlier. That was taken weeks ago when I first found out,” I say quietly as I sit next to him to pull on my boots.
“It looks like a peanut,” He forces another smile, but it’s solemn as he studies it once more before carefully putting it down.
“Yeah, I guess it does,” I say with a soft laugh.
“What is this place?”
“It’s a gym, but not the kind you likely go to.” His gaze dips low, scanning my legs.
“Uh, Drew, this body hasn’t seen a gym in months,” I joke as I step out of the car.
He shakes his head with a laugh. “Come on, stay close. These aren’t the kind of guys you’d see at your gym either.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He opens the metal door, and I step in. The pungent smell of sweat mixed with rubber hits me hard. I immediately turn, bolting by Drew. I gasp for a breath of fresh cold air, trying to settle my stomach when Drew steps next to me.
“What can I do?” His voice is soft with concern.
“Leave me out here,” I say between deep breaths.
“Not gonna happen.” He looks around the parking lot.
“Drew, I can’t go in there.”
“I see that.” His amused tone makes me look up to see the matching expression on his face.
“Seriously, just go see if you want to be a member, or whatever we’re here for, and I’ll wait out here. No one will pick on a pregnant woman. I’ll throw up on them if they come too close.” I smile.
“Come on,” he says, leading me to the car. Opening the passenger door, he guides me to sit. “Are you okay?” he asks, crouching down next to the open door. His closeness and gentle tone gives me pause. I nod, looking into his beautiful blue eyes. “Good,” he says, standing and closing me in the car. “You’re sure?” he asks for confirmation as he slides behind the wheel.
“Yeah, I’m better. That place smells like shit!” I say, looking back at the metal door.
“I told you it wasn’t like any gym you’ve ever worked out in.”
“I can smell why,” I say dryly.
“Let’s eat,” he says, pulling from the parking lot.
“Okay.”
“I love that you can go from ready to vomit to ready to eat in minutes.” He chuckles quietly.
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. It’s another perk of my condition.” I point to my stomach.
His eyes flick down to the end of my finger before looking back to the road. “So are you doing this alone?” he asks as he briefly looks back to my stomach.
“Yeah, it’s better that way,” I say, trying to convince myself as much as him.
“I don’t know shit about babies or pregnancy,” he says, glancing over from the road to my belly. “When will you have it?”
“July tenth is my due date.”
A soft smile forms on his lips. “That’s my birthday.”
“I know.” His brows lift with surprise of my revelation. “Reeder and I covered this. You know, because you two share a birthday,” I explain casually with a shrug. “I doubt I’ll have it on that day. They hardly ever arrive on their due date.” He nods his silent reply before looking back to the road.
We spend the rest of the short drive to the restaurant talking about the woes of pregnancy. He winces when I mention how I vomit every morning, and he’s almost as relieved as I am when I say that it won’t last the entire pregnancy.
“So is that how you stay so fit?” I ask as I survey his mountain of salad when he returns to the table.
“It takes a little more than this salad. I spend hours at the gym.”
“How do you do that?”
“I drive there and spend hours there.” He grins before shoveling his first large bite in his mouth. I roll my eyes. After swallowing, he wipes his lips with his napkin. “I’m a personal trainer. I have a couple of UFC clients in Los Angeles. How successful would I be if I were overweight or weak? You know, if you’re going to talk the talk, you have to walk the walk.”
“Is that why you’re never here?”
“Yeah, I have a house in LA. I used to live here, but I have a steady clientele there. That gym I took you to is mine, and I own ten more in the area. They keep me coming back to Seattle.”
“Do they all smell as lovely?”
“No, that’s a fighter’s gym. I only own two of those. The rest are the type you’d feel comfortable in.”
“A fighter’s gym?”
“Yeah, those are about as raw as they come. There’s some high tech shit in there, but for the most part it’s free weights, bags—the old school shit that doesn’t evolve. I’ll show you the difference once you can stomach it. Maybe I’ll take you in after hours.”
“Do you own gyms in Los Angeles?”
His eyes flick up to mine. “Aren’t you the inquisitive one tonight?”
“I’m sorry. If you’re from Seattle and own several businesses here, what would take you away? You don’t need to answer that,” I say apologetically.
“No, I don’t have a problem talking about my past. A woman took me away from here. I met someone and followed her to LA a few years ago. It didn’t work out, but between my getting there and figuring that out, I picked up some pretty good clients, started another gym and then eventually bought several more.” He takes a long pull from his bottle of water. “What about you? What brings you to Seattle?”
“Work,” I answer plainly.
“That’s a shitty answer.”
“Well, actually, I was enrolled in the witness protection program. It’s top secret.” I lean in, whispering the last.
He shakes his head with a smile before shoveling another bite of food in his mouth. I feel bad not telling him everything, but something tells me he already has an idea.
“So tell me about work. Did you work for the same hotel in New York?” He looks up with genuine interest.
“Yes, but I had a much better boss. My boss here is a prick.”
“So why’d you take the job?” he asks, finding my assessment funny.
“He wasn’t the manager who interviewed me. She was moved to the corporate office, and he was moved from corporate between the time I was interviewed to the time I arrived. He wasn’t happy they were moving me from New York to Seattle after only four months of moving me from St. Louis to New York. I think he has a chip on his shoulder, and he wants to take it out on me.”
“Four months, huh?” he says, his gaze dropping to my stomach before returning to his salad. “Would you move back to New York?” The intensity of his stare leads me to believe this is a loaded question.
“I don’t know,” I say, dropping my gaze.
Amber…
My phone whistles with an incoming text.
‘Get Ready’
A smile involuntarily toys on my lips at his demand. I haven’t seen or heard from him in two weeks, and oddly, I find myself excited to hear from him.
‘Why? You taking me to some sweaty gym?’
‘Nope, sightseeing’
‘Okay. Give me an hour’
‘You have thirty’
‘I can’t be ready in thirty’
‘twenty-nine’
I slam my phone on the nightstand and run for the shower with a smile.
I take one last look at myself as the doorbell rings. I ignore it, pausing in front of the mirror once more and studying my belly. There’s no hiding it now. I press the loose flowing fabric tightly around the bump. The doorbell rings again, making me jump before exiting the bathroom for the living room.
My breath hitches when I open the door. Drew’s hair is still damp from the shower and styled in that messy sort of way that says he really didn’t style it at all. His tight-fitting, long-sleeved T-shirt is pulled up enough to expose his muscular and veined forea
rms. What is about those veins that I love so much? The clearing of his throat draws my wayward eyes back to his.
“You see something you like?” he asks with a cocky grin.
“Yeah, I’m not done yet. Let me finish,” I say, only half-teasing as I land my eyes on his lean waist then drop my gaze to his form fitting jeans.
“You’re so funny. Get your shit. We need to go,” he says, stepping closer.
“Wow, you always so poetic?” I tease, turning around and heading to the counter to get my purse.
“I want to make it in time to see it.”
“See what?” I ask as I walk past him and out of the apartment.
He holds my arm above my elbow as we travel down the stairs. I look to where his hand is securely wrapped around my bicep and then up to his eyes. “I don’t want you to fall,” he says, answering my silent question.
“Do you know how many times a day I walk up and down these stairs?” I say softly as we reach the landing near the ground.
“I’m not here all those times, but I am now,” he says confidently as he walks us to his rental car. Opening the car door, he smirks, obviously waiting for me to argue, but I don’t. I lower onto the seat without another word and watch him as he hurries around the front of the car and slides behind the wheel.
“How’s work?” he asks.
“It sucks.”
“Not getting better?” He alternates his attention back and forth from me to the road.
“I’m not sure what it is. I’ve made friends with Rob, the head of guest services, and he’s the highlight of most of my days. And Lucia, she’s head of housekeeping, has a loose tongue that I can appreciate. She’ll tell you how she feels and she doesn’t like Mr. Yelverton.” I sit back in the seat with a smile, remembering her rant last week.
“I’m glad you’re making friends. Tell me about Rob and why he’s the highlight of your day,” he asks casually.
“He’s a few years older than me, maybe thirty. He’s just funny and always happy. He’s a positive in my life right now. I haven’t quite figured him out other than that though. He’s pretty elusive about his private life, but I guess so am I. I don’t ask so that I won’t have to tell,” I say, laughing before I realize that I’ve been elusive with Drew too.