Without another word, Beth’s husband turned and walked out of Dylan’s office, every female eye in the office following his path to the door.
Brady poked his head in a second later. “Who was that?”
“Lexi’s brother-in-law. The one whose baby she’s carrying.”
Brady strolled in, sitting in the seat Logan had just occupied. “I have to ask, because it’s been driving me crazy. If the sister can’t have kids and had…the plumbing fixed, who provided the female component to this equation?”
He’d asked the same question, wondering how the process worked. “The other sister, Andy, donated the egg and once it was fertilized by Logan’s sperm in a lab, they implanted it into Lexi.”
Brady whistled. “I can’t get my sister to come over for dinner and these chicks are donating body parts to each other.”
Dylan wasn’t touching the topic of Mercedes Charles. He leaned back and threaded his fingers behind his head.
“They’re pretty tight. That’s why Logan was here. Making sure my intentions were pure.”
It was partly the gist of why Logan had come by, but Dylan wasn’t going to mention the sexual-health screening. While he was thinking about it, he grabbed his phone and shot an email to his lawyer, requesting a copy of the health report to his inbox.
“And are your intentions pure?” Brady asked. “Because that sounds boring as hell.”
“We aren’t all interested in getting sucked off by a different waitress at the club every weekend, Brady.”
Brady looked offended. “First of all, there aren’t that many waitresses.” Dylan snorted derisively, but Brady continued, “And I haven’t done that it weeks. I’ve been seeing someone, too. Just not a pregnant someone who comes with strings I’ll get tangled in.”
“You’ve been seeing someone?” Dylan said skeptically. “You?”
Brady gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Casually.”
“But serious enough that you’re not going for your usual romps with the regulars?”
“For now. I mean, the desire is still there, but I’m keeping it in check.” A slow smile spread across his lips. “She’s more than enough to make up for the lack in variety.”
Color Dylan surprised. Brady was the ultimate player. Never malicious with his short-term, love em’ and leave em’ mentality, but never invested enough to really care who he hurt along the way. If he had a dollar for every drink that had been thrown in Brady’s face when they were out, every scorned woman accosting them, he’d be an even richer man.
Always boyishly charming in his apologies, the moment the woman was gone, Brady was back to his old self, looking for a new target. Or two.
“When do we meet this mystery miracle worker?” Dylan asked.
Brady’s face dropped, paling at the mere mention of introducing this woman to his friends.
It should have been red flag number one, but instead Dylan chalked it up to something akin to dread.
“That’s not happening,” Brady murmured. “We’re not like that.”
“Maybe one of these nights I’ll just drop by your place with a six-pack and see what’s going on. Watch a game or something.”
Brady chuckled, standing. “You come to my house fishing and I’ll knock those teeth right out of your pretty-boy face.”
Dylan stood too, smirking. “It’s not fishing. Just a couple business partners, watching a game or something on a Friday night.”
“You’re a shit liar, you know that?” Brady looked him up and down. “Being in love looks good on you, D.”
“Everything looks good on me,” Dylan shot back, letting the comment slide off his back.
He’d known from the beginning that it would be a slippery slope with Lexi. First one foot on the hill, then two, and before he knew it, he was tumbling down with a smile on his face. There was no doubt in his mind that he was in love with Lexi.
“You should know, out of the three of us, I look the best in a tux and I photograph very well. I’m primo best-man material.”
“You might be jumping the gun just a tad,” Dylan told him, brows raised. “And, if that ever came to be”—which he hoped like hell it did—“most of the bridesmaids are married.”
“I’ll risk it,” Brady said with a jaunty shrug. “Grant’s too surly to be a good best man. He wouldn’t get the nuances of the job.”
“And what the hell is wrong with me?” Lincoln asked from the doorway where he stood. Grant was right behind him, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Brady.
“Too sappy. You’ll throw a boring bachelor party where we reminisce and drink old bourbon instead of having one where barely legal teenagers rub their—”
“Okay. We get it,” Dylan said with a laugh, preferring the Lincoln version of the bachelor party. “But really, Lex and I aren’t there yet. It’s complicated.”
Grant huffed out a sarcastic chuckle that held zero humor. “Complicated? Is that what you’re calling it?”
Grant and Lexi hadn’t gotten off on the right foot, the confrontation at his condo fresh in both their minds. Grant could be a bit of a hard-ass and Lexi tended to have a flash-in-the-pan kind of temper. They weren’t the best combination, but Dylan was sure if they could spend just a little time together, they’d get over it.
“Here’s what I know,” Dylan told them. “I bought a beautiful woman coffee one day and she turned out to be the most interesting person I’ve ever met. She’s funny and driven. She’s charming and sweet, in her own way. She’s smart and hardworking and comes from a nice family. And more than any of that, she gets me. She doesn’t care what I do here or what my bank account holds. She doesn’t care where I’m seen or if any newspapers are writing articles about me. All she wants to know is what I think about the Sox this year or if I think wind turbines or solar panels have more longevity or what we’re having for dinner.” They were all watching him and he held their gazes. “She also happens to be pregnant.”
“I’ve been dying to ask—” Brady began.
“Don’t,” Dylan interrupted, not willing to utter a word to anyone about how glorious Lexi was, naked and pregnant, screaming his name. That was his secret to hang onto and he planned on holding it close for a long, long time.
Lincoln shook his head and looked at Brady, disappointed. “Aren’t you ever going to grow up?”
Dylan kept his mouth shut about whoever it was that Brady was seeing. If the man wanted everyone to know about her, this was his shot to tell them. Instead, he just shrugged.
“Growing up is for pussies.”
Grant rolled his eyes. “When you die of an undiscovered venereal disease, I’ll make sure to have that carved into your tombstone.”
Brady held up his hands, like he was framing a picture. “Here lies Brady Charles, the Biggest Dick in Boston.”
They all laughed.
“If you ladies are done gossip hour, there’s still actual work that needs to be done,” Audrey interrupted from the doorway, her eyes shooting to Brady. “And if the Biggest Dick in Boston wouldn’t mind, his flight for Dubai leaves in a few hours and I have some things to prep him on before he goes.”
She turned without another word and briskly walked away.
Dylan and his partners turned to each other, their eyes meeting, the suppressed humor a living, breathing thing in the room.
It was just a second later that they all burst out laughing like they were kids again.
Even Grant laughed and that was saying something.
11
“Hey Alex? Is that your boyfriend?”
Alex looked up, from handing out bottles of water, to find Lizzy Bishop, one of Jenna’s friends, pointing toward the field’s parking lot. All the girls looked, every teenage eye going wide.
Jenna snickered. “That’s him.”
Alex turned to see him sauntering in their direction, his car completely out of place amongst the minivans and pickup trucks that littered the parking lot.
And then there was Dylan h
imself, still in his full work getup, looking like he’d just stepped off the pages of a magazine. His hair was perfectly combed to the side, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. Even his hands stuffed in his pockets looked staged as if he were walking a runway.
“Why are there always hot guys coming to your games?” one of the girls asked Jenna. “There’s that other guy, the one with the dimples that comes and flirts with all the moms.”
“Cole,” Alex and Jenna answered at the same time, knowing they were talking about Logan’s cousin Cole Williams.
“And the one whose butt looks like it’s made of steel.”
Alex raised a brow at Cassy, the third baseman for Jenna’s team. “All you’ve noticed is his butt?”
The girl barely blinked. “He seems nice,” she said with a shrug.
“That’s Tucker,” Jenna supplied, strapping on her catcher’s gear. “Has to be. No one would ever say that Elliot seems nice.”
Alex thought about her friend Julia Hawkins and how kind and patient Elliot Williams was with her. She’d bet her life that Julia thought he was nice and that despite his demeanor, he was enough for someone just the way he was. He didn’t have to live up to anyone else’s expectations of what was acceptable and what wasn’t. Even Julia, who was hard to get to know, her outer shell nearly impenetrable and her conversation skills near zero. Alex still considered her a friend, Julia’s contribution to her life well above meaningful.
“He’s got this whole Christian—”
“Don’t!” Alex shouted, hand up, stopping Frankie, the right-fielder from going any further. “No more words. Not from any of you.”
The girls all giggled and trotted onto the field, still whispering and sending glances in Dylan’s direction.
“What’s so funny?” Dylan asked, sneaking his arms around her waist from behind and nuzzling her neck.
“A bunch of teenagers just informed me that they think you bear a striking resemblance to a certain famously fictitious billionaire with a penchant for bondage.”
He pressed himself closer, his erection hard against her butt. “How much bondage are we talking here?”
“None,” she tried to snap, but the kisses he was laying along her throat were bone-melting and instead, she just leaned into him. She snaked her hand up and around his head, holding him close. “You don’t have to tie me down. I’ll stay still.”
“You will not,” he accused, his words a hot whisper across her skin. She felt her nipples harden and wanted to be embarrassed but just couldn’t bring herself to care if people saw them. “Every time I tell you to stay still, you just move more. Your hips get all squirmy and the wetter you get, the more you move.”
She turned her head and he took her lips in a kiss that was far more than a greeting. It was a promise of what was to come. It was Friday and they had the entire weekend together. Weekends were Alex’s new favorite days of the week. At least, the ones she got to spend with Dylan.
“How wet are you right now?” he asked against her lips. “Wet enough that I could just slide right in?”
“Dylan,” Alex whispered.
He held her by the hips, his lips stretching into a smile.
It probably looked like they were just talking, greeting each other with a cute kiss as he held her in his arms.
“What?” he asked. “You can feel how hard you make me.”
“Stop putting on a show or I’ll never hear the end of it!” Alex’s father unfolded his chair and plopped himself into it right next to where she and Dylan were standing. There was laughter in Dylan’s eyes, and she liked that he could find the humor in things like being interrupted by family, because in her life, it happened daily.
He straightened away from her and held a hand out to Charlie. “Mr. Walker. It’s nice to see you again.”
“Stop canoodling my daughter in public. There’re children present.”
Alex looked back at the field to see some of the girls surreptitiously watching them out of the corner of their eyes. She sent them all hard looks and wagged a finger at them, warning them that they should never do what she just did.
They all reacted as expected, by ignoring her and giggling.
“You know, you’re not very intimidating,” Dylan informed her. “Something about the cute little baby belly wrapped in tiny flowers, probably.”
Alex sent him a scowl, though she was starting to believe him. The baby had made her soft, or at least look soft. No one treaded lightly around her anymore or seemed to care that she was scowling.
Mrs. Ross, the crotchety old teacher’s aide, even walked up to her in the grocery store and pressed her hands to Alex’s stomach without so much as a please or thank you. Just hobbled up and put her old gnarled fingers on someone else’s body as if that was something people did. When Alex glared at her, the old woman, who was notoriously cranky, smiled up at her and Alex had just let her do it.
She was soft. She turned to blast Dylan for bringing it to her attention and found him and her father hiding smiles.
“Oh sure,” she huffed. “Laugh at the pregnant lady’s expense. Very nice of you both. You!” She pointed at Charlie. “After everything I’ve done for you?”
“What have you done for me? All you ever do is try to distract me with cake when something big is going on and make trouble.”
“I do not make trouble!”
“It was never Andrea or Bethany sneaking out the windows or lighting sheds on fire.”
“One shed,” she corrected. “And you love cake.”
“I do not,” he argued, waving his hand so he could see the game. “I can’t see the game. You always were a pain to take to games. Playing ring-a-round-the-rosy in the outfield like there wasn’t a game going on around you. Spending the whole time talking, distracting everyone like you were bored.”
“I was bored,” she argued. “I only went because at first you made me and later because there were boys there. Now I only go because Jenna’s here and they let me be team mom, even though I’m not a mom.”
Dylan glanced at her belly and then to her face, his expression carefully blank. It was a hard line to draw some days, but at the same time, not. There was this thing between them, this baby growing inside of her and it was easy to get lost in the magic of that, to see her grow bigger and feel the baby moving and live inside that experience together.
But the baby wasn’t hers and she didn’t for a second want it to be hers. She liked doing something for Beth, helping her have a child, but liked the prospect of not having that responsibility when all was said and done.
There was a very clear line.
But still, there was baby magic there and Dylan sometimes got hypnotized by that.
“And you love cake,” she added quietly to her father, crossing her arms over her chest.
Dylan chuckled, pulling her to his side and whispering in her ear. “Have I told you how utterly edible you look right now? All flushed and angry.”
She screwed her lips up to the side, thawing at his words. “No. And I’m not angry.”
“Edible,” he whispered again, his voice no more than a breath against her skin. “And I plan on tasting every inch of you.”
“I have to go, Dad,” Alex said, grabbing Dylan’s hand and pulling him away before her father could say a word.
She pulled him along for a few steps before he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her toward his car, laughing.
The last thing she heard of the game were the cheers and wolf whistles of a gaggle of high school girls, all of whom were probably burning the moment into their memories.
Hoping for their own Dylan James to sweep them off their feet someday.
Later that night, Dylan held her as they laid on the couch in her temporary apartment. The television was on low, neither of them paying much attention to it, more enjoying the quiet of being together. They’d left all their clothes and the rest of the world at the door when they’d come in, hurriedly making their way to the bedroom.
“Nothing important?” Dylan murmured, using his fingers to spread her hair across his chest.
“It’s Andy,” she told him.
“How can you tell?”
“Beth’s notification sings Ding Dong the Witch is Dead.”
“And no one else could be texting you?” he asked skeptically.
“They could be, but they probably aren’t.” She looked at the clock on the cable box. “And at nine on a Friday night? Spencer’s working and if he wanted me he’d just come up. Jenna is out with her friends; you’re with me. Doesn’t leave a whole lot of options.”
Curious now, he sat up a little. “Okay. So, guess what she might want. If you get it right, you win a prize.”
She considered him for a moment. “What’s the prize?”
Dylan chuckled. “It’ll be a surprise. You guess and I’ll check to see if you’re right.”
Alex was game so she took a second to think. “I’d say she’s texting to make sure I don’t need anything and to see how I’m feeling.”
“That’s it?”
She blindly reached for her phone and handed it to him.
He read the screen aloud. “Just checking to see how you’re feeling. Love you. Let me know if you need anything.” He almost looked disappointed, like he’d expected some salacious gossip. “Well that was a let down.”
“Sorry to bore you. Andy’s a creature of habit. She sends me the same text at least twice a week. If you want the good stuff, you have to pry it out of her; she’s not just going to give it up. It’s Beth who’s the over-sharer.”
“And your brother?”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s locked up tighter than a drum. If I went by what he offered up for information, I’d say he’s a virgin that isn’t interested in any human, be it man or woman. I had to break into his apartment and go through his stuff to find out the good stuff. Plus, I know the passcode to his phone, so when he isn’t looking, sometimes I take a peek and see what or who he’s doing at the moment.”
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