Triplets Make Five: An Enemies to Lovers Secret Baby Romance

by Nicole Elliot

  “There’s peach and kiwi-infused waters,” he said.

  “I’ll have a peach one.”

  “Then I’ll take kiwi.”

  The two of us sat on the couch and ate a sensible dinner. I took small bites, trying to gauge my nausea as we sat together in silence. I was waiting for him to make a move on me. To jump my bones or try to talk me into sleeping with him. I was waiting for some quip about how I was already pregnant so we couldn’t get into anymore trouble. But he was a true gentleman, keeping a safe distance between us on the couch.

  “How are you feeling?” Preston asked.

  “Rough,” I said.

  “How’s your nausea?”

  “It’s bad, but I’m getting through it.”

  “Are you sleeping?” he asked.

  “Does it look like I’m sleeping much?”

  “There are things to help with that. I could call up any doctor anywhere and get you what you need.”

  His eyes fluttered over to mine and I saw the desperation behind them. He was wanting to help. He was wanting to find any way to make my life a little easier. I had no reason to trust him when he told me he wanted to be in these children’s lives. I mean, we had started all of this on a fling. A weak moment I had when I thought there was nothing else better for me in this world than to fuck my boss.

  But now, seeing his eyes silently pleading with me, I wasn’t so sure of my original judgment of him.

  Judgment. That thing people always did with me. I hated it. I hated the box people tried to put me in. And here I was, doing it to someone else. For whatever reasons I had done it in the beginning, I didn’t have a leg to stand on anymore. I had judged this man, and harshly. And in the process, I had used him as both an escape and a scapegoat for my unresolved anger towards how my life had turned out.

  It wasn’t right, and I owed him an apology.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “For what?” Preston asked.

  “For judging you the way I did.”

  He sat up from his plate and turned his body towards me, never once moving closer. Only opening himself a bit more. Dropping a guard I hadn’t seen him put up with me before.

  “My life has always been a bit…plain. And sometimes that’s my own doing, but sometimes it’s not. People judge me and make up theories about my life just to quell their own curiosity. And I did the same thing with you. At first, you were a scapegoat for my fear of losing my job. So I judged you. Then, you were a scapegoat for my curiosity that needed to be satiated, so I judged you. Then I used you for a wonderful date and a night of passion I’d never experienced before. And then I judged you again. I didn’t trust you when you said you wanted to be a part of all this because I was still holding you to a judgment I made when I first met you. That you were a playboy who was out for no one but himself.”

  “What do you think now?” Preston asked.

  “I think…I was wrong. In all three of my forms. I don’t know you at all, and that scares me because we’re going to be bound by these kids. But that doesn’t mean I can’t get to know you, and that doesn’t mean that when I do, you’ll be a bad person,” I said.

  “I’m not,” he said. “Just a forward one. And I’ll admit, you had plenty of evidence to base your judgment on. I’m not upset with you, Delilah. Worried? Yes. Wishing you would let me help? Hell yes. But you set forth the rules and I’ll follow your lead on this.”

  He was being serious. Genuinely serious. My heart was thudding in my chest and my pelvis was warming up. This beautiful man, who had built empires and crumbled companies, was telling me he would take my lead. That he would respect my boundaries and that he wanted to help.

  In that moment, I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to thrust himself onto me and make me feel beautiful like he had that night. Like he did in that bathroom. It was like a switch had flipped within me. I suddenly needed this man more than life itself. But he was a courteous gentleman, settling for taking my hand while I wanted him to take my body.

  “You make the rules, and I’ll follow them. So long as you keep me updated on how you’re feeling. If you need days off, tell me. You have sick days for a reason. Take them,” Preston said.

  “Okay,” I said.

  His hand felt so good encompassing mine. My entire body was screaming out for him. I was wondering if I needed to back down. If I needed to throw these insane rules out the window and run with my heart instead of my mind on this. Blood was rushing through my ears. I could feel my legs growing weak even though I wasn’t standing on them. Our food was growing cold as we started into each other’s eyes, and I thought about falling forward into him. Into his lips and his arms and the strength of his chest.

  But I knew it was better this way. Even though it killed me to pull my hand away from him, I knew it was better this way. My heart would always get me into trouble. That was just a fact. I had my mother’s heart. A heart I wore on my sleeve, willing to give it to the first person who touched it. It had broken her more times than I wanted to admit over the course of growing up with her, and I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t put these children through the rollercoaster I rode with my mother.

  I would rather have a good, platonic relationship with their father than a rocky, heartbreaking romantic one with him.

  “Thank you for dinner,” I said as I reached for my plate.

  “Anything you need, all you have to do is ask,” Preston said.

  And I could tell by the look in his eyes that he meant it.

  Eighteen

  Delilah

  The weeks rolled on and Preston was sweeter than ever. Every Saturday night he would come over with food, and he would sit with me and talk. I learned more about him than I could have ever imagined, and I witnessed firsthand how compassionate he was. One Saturday, I had gotten so sick I couldn't eat the food he brought. And even though I tried to shoo him away from the bathroom, he fought his way in and held my hair back. He put a cool washcloth on the back of my neck and blew cool air down my shirt trying to get my heaving body to calm down. He rubbed my back and kept telling me everything was going to be okay, and he stayed until I fell asleep that night.

  He did sweet little things in passing, but never in the office. He respected my rules about showing any sort of affection while we were being professional. But every once in a while, I would come home to a note taped on my door. Or a gift in my mailbox. Or something being delivered to my apartment. Sometimes it was a cute present for the babies and other times it was a relaxing present for me. One week, I even received a package with three books inside that have just been released to the public.

  Preston had signed me up for a book club and put me down for three new books every month.

  Now, I was almost three months along. Preston and I would stagger our leaving from the office so he could attend the doctor's appointments we scheduled over lunch. The babies were growing stronger everyday, but it would still be a while before we would know their genders. Their heartbeats were strong and they were already using my bladder as a punching bag. And every single time Preston saw those ultrasounds, his eyes lit up.

  But I was still focused on the financial aspect of things. I was only a couple of weeks away from needing maternity clothes that would help me cover up my baby bump, and I had no idea how I was going to pay for them.

  It wasn't that I wanted to hide the children. But I did want to hold off the questions from my colleagues as long as I could. The moment people knew I was pregnant, the rumors would begin to fly. People would want to know the father’s name and how far along I was. They would want to know how we met, whether or not we were living together, and whether or not he was a decent man. Everyone would act like they were my best friend because I would become the hottest drama of Kiefer And Associates.

  And I wasn't ready to take on that role yet.

  There were times where I could see worry in Preston's eyes. I still went with him to all the meetings and took the minutes so I could email them to him. B
ut I knew there were times where I looked tired. I knew there were times where he knew I wasn't showering, and I could see the questions in his eyes. I would try to shoot him looks to get him to pay attention, but sometimes they didn't work. I couldn't help the fact that I was so exhausted, but him staring at me was only going to make things worse.

  However, there was a small part of me that felt good to have him so concerned about me. It meant he cared, and I allowed myself to cherish that fact when I was alone.

  But one day, a knock came at my door. It was odd for me to have visitors to my office, especially since there wasn't a place to sit. So I knew whoever it was, they had something that was important for me.

  When I opened the door, however, the last person I expected to see was Preston.

  “Could we talk in my office?” he asked.

  “Did I miss a meeting?” I asked.

  “Not at all, but I do need to speak with you about something…urgent.”

  His eyes dropped to my stomach and I felt my face pale. Why did he want to talk about the children? What was so important? We had an agreement to not do this kind of thing here.

  Holy hell, had someone found out about us?

  I nodded and followed him into his office. I was hot on his heels as we made our way into the expansive room. He shut the door and locked it, then ushered me over to the couch in the corner. I could feel my hands sweating with nerves and I sat down, my back straight and my body braced for whatever was coming.

  “Relax,” Preston said. “Nothing’s wrong. But I do need an answer from you on something before the end of the day today.”

  “No one’s found out about us?” I asked.

  “In this office? No,” he said.

  “What do you mean, ‘in this office’?” I asked.

  “It’s my parents.”

  I felt myself release the breath I was hold as I relaxed back into the couch.

  “Preston, you’re going to give me a heart attack. Why didn’t you just say that?” I asked.

  “I didn’t want to give off any inclinations in case someone was walking up or down the hallway. I’m sorry,” he said.

  “It’s okay. Just…yikes. Okay. What’s going on with your parents?”

  “They want to throw us a baby shower.”

  “A baby shower,” I said.

  “Yeah. My parents aren’t the happiest about how this is all going down, but they’ll get over it. They’re getting grandchildren, and they’re ecstatic. They want to meet you and throw us a baby shower.”

  “You told your parents,” I said.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t?” he asked.

  “I just…I don’t know.”

  “Have you not told yours?”

  “Um…well, I-”

  “Your parents don’t know you’re pregnant?” he asked.

  “Look, that’s cool if you have a great relationship with your parents, but not everyone does,” I said.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “It’s fine. I-...well, my father. He-”

  How did I start this conversation? A baby shower? This wasn’t something I had even considered. I had been so busy running numbers and doing calculations and working and trying to pay things off and set aside money that the idea of Preston telling his parents about us never even crossed my mind.

  “If you don’t want to, then all you have to do is say the word. But they would still like to meet you,” he said.

  “No, no. It’s fine. I mean, I’m not used to…being the center of attention,” I said.

  “I know. It’s why I wanted to ask you before I answered.”

  “But I guess one time couldn’t hurt. Are your parents…?”

  “Upset?” he asked. “Meh they’re fine. Good Catholics, but fine.”

  “Ah,” I said.

  “It’s got nothing to do with you. My parents aren’t traditional by any means, but they’re having their fun little ‘I told you so’ moment.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They warned me about my lifestyle. How it would eventually get me into trouble. It’s less of them shitting on us and more of them basking in the fact that they were right,” he said.

  “Well…they’re not wrong,” I said.

  “Thanks. You guys will get along just fine,” he said flatly.

  I giggled and reached out for him, finding his hand as our fingers intertwined. For the past few weeks he had been the perfect gentleman. He made no moves to get me in bed, he didn’t make any snarky comments about my body, and he had ceased all of his outside activities with other women. He was no longer making the news for his latest conquests and we were spending our weekends getting to know one another instead of exploring each other with our tongues.

  Though I had to admit, my want for him hadn’t waned.

  “Why haven’t you told your parents?” Preston asked. “Is that an okay question to ask?”

  “I mean, I grew up with my mom. I watched her and my father have a very rocky relationship. On again, off again. He serially dated during their off moments and Mom would always find a reason to take him back. She wore her heart on her sleeve for him, and he always found a way to bludgeon it,” I said.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s fine. I have a decent relationship with both of them, but they don’t really with one another. They’re together now, but things are always tense. I think they stayed together for me, thinking they had to have a romantic relationship in order to have a productive one to raise me. I think they would’ve been better off platonic and raising me. Sure, I would’ve bounced between two homes, but they would’ve been happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from my life and theirs.”

  “You said you have a relationship with them now. Is it a good one?” he asked.

  “I mean, yeah. It got better as I got older. But during the formative years of my life? It was rough. They’re kind of reserved now. Mellowed out with their old age. But sometimes the air in the room gets tense with past memories and they sort of curl in on themselves. Don’t get me wrong, I’m going to tell them what’s going on. I’m just…waiting for the right time. When things are okay between them.”

  I felt Preston tugging on my arm, drawing me closer to him.

  “Preston…what are you-?”

  His lips descended onto my forehead, pressing a warm, comforting kiss into my skin. I shivered, electricity ricocheting down my spine as I sighed into his touch. His lips lingered for longer than they should have, drawing tears to my eyes as he comforted me.

  “We’ll have a better relationship than that with our children. I promise you,” he said.

  “That’s all I’m asking,” I said. “I’m not asking for anything else.”

  He pulled back from me as a tear fell onto my cheek. He released my hand, his thumb wiping away the trail it left behind. I nuzzled into his touch, unable to resist any part of him I could have.

  I cursed myself for laying down the rules. For listening to my rational mind.

  “The baby shower will be this weekend. I could fly us out Friday after work. Are you okay with that?” Preston asked.

  “That sounds just fine,” I said.

  “I’ll let my parents know then to make the arrangements. I take it you won’t want to fly with me on my jet?” he asked.

  “You have a jet?”

  “I do. I would fly us both on it, but I don’t know how you would feel about that.”

  I sighed as his hand dropped from my face, falling into my lap as he found my hand again.

  “If we stagger our leave times, I don’t see why we couldn’t fly out together,” I said.

  And the smile that crossed his face warmed my heart.

  “I’ll call and make the arrangements then,” he said. “I can leave for lunch and do a ‘business thing’, then you can leave around three for an early weekend and meet me at the tarmac.”

  “Sounds good,” I said.

  “I’ll make sure you have directions on how
to get there. Or would you rather one of my drivers pick you up?”

  “I think I can get there just fine, as long as I have a place to park my car,” I said.

  “Perfect. You’re going to love my parents. And they’re going to love you.”

  Nineteen

  Preston

  Thankfully, my parents decided to keep the shower small. I flew Delilah and I into the Hamptons, then we took a private car to my parents’ home. I watched as Delilah gawked at all the big houses surrounding the area, her gasps tugging a grin on my cheeks. It was a quaint space to live in considering the clientele the Hamptons catered to. A place I would definitely raise a family if I worked closer to the place.

  I usually took in the beauty of the place, but I was damn nervous for Delilah to meet my parents. While they weren't traditional people, they did fraternize with people who were very traditional. It was common in high society culture, and there were families who still looked down upon my parents for what traversed between the two of them. What Delilah and I were doing was the least traditional someone could get, and I was worried some of those people would be at the party.

  But I was pleasantly caught off guard. My parents greeted her with smiles and good wishes and none of the more traditional of my parent’s friends were present. Because Delilah was carrying triplets, she was showing well beyond her months. My mother asked for permission to touch her stomach, and giggled whenever the babies kicked back at her.

  Delilah smiled and shook my mother’s hands, but my father insisted on hugging her. I could tell she was taken aback by the gesture of goodwill, but she seemed to enjoy the attention nonetheless. My mother was anxious to walk her through the house, showing her all the rooms my mother had personally decorated while their personal chef placed a glass of cucumber water in Delilah's hand.

  The dinner was beautiful. My parents had a wonderful time getting to know Delilah, even though I could tell my mother was disappointed they weren't able to tell many people what was happening. The last thing we needed was something leaking to the media and ruining Delilah’s wishes for this pregnancy. So I told my mother to not invite people in her circle of friends who would go to someone with this information. My mother was ready to print announcements and throw numerous baby showers, but the compromise she made was just as beautiful.