Delivering History (The Freehope Series Book 4)

by Jenni M. Rose

  “You like cucumber sandwiches,” Dylan countered, his eyes dancing with laughter.

  “HalloBaby likes cucumber sandwiches. Cucumbers soaked in vinegar that give me heartburn just looking at them.” She glanced at Louis. “And I don’t mean cheap vinegar. I mean the apple cider kind that’s so thick and fermented you can’t see through it. She likes the hard stuff. If it was up to me, I’d be eating Nutella and Fluff sandwiches for lunch until the day I die.”

  “Oh dear,” Dylan’s mother came in the kitchen, her skin flushed from sitting by their enormous and ostentatious pool. “Refined sugars are very bad for you. They’re the worst kind of sugar.”

  “But they’re the ones that taste the best,” Alex told her. “They’re the ones that make crème brûlée have a crunchy top, and soufflé rise.”

  “They’re also the ones that make you fat,” Mrs. James said.

  Alex looked at her enormous, protruding belly and shrugged. “Too late for that.”

  Mrs. James flushed. “Not that kind of fat, dear. Babies don’t count.”

  “I’ve always told Jenna that one of the great, wise women of the world reminded us all that fat isn’t the worst thing a person could be. They could be vindictive or shallow or cruel.” She shrugged a shoulder, still making her recipe chock full of refined sugar. “There are far worse things in the world than fat.”

  They were all staring at her and she suddenly felt like she had three heads.

  “Not that I disagree with refined sugars being bad for someone’s health, but I try to keep away from words like fat. My sisters and I grew up too conscious of what we looked like or worrying about what happens when you gain an ounce. Even now, I still worry about watching the scale go up even though I know it’s because of the baby. It’s hard to separate the two things, because that’s how girls are raised. Andy tried to raise Jenna different, but can you really do that? Because looking a certain way or being thin enough is ingrained in our society—”

  “Lex,” Dylan interrupted.

  “I know,” she responded. “Walker word vomit. I’ll shut up now.”

  “No,” Mrs. James argued, taking the seat next to Dylan and watching her closely. “Don’t shut up. I didn’t raise girls so I never had to worry about it. I’m curious to know what it’s like.”

  “I didn’t either,” Alex told her. “Jenna isn’t mine but I was there, you know? The whole time Jenna was growing up, I was too. And it isn’t like Andy or I are very big or work on dieting an awful lot, but even by the time she was in kindergarten Jenna was worried about how her legs looked in her jeans or if we thought her thighs touched. I’d never said anything like that in front of her, neither did Andy, but that kind of concern still touched her.” She lifted a shoulder again. “I think it’s important to remember that there are far worse things than being what someone else views as fat or worrying over thigh gap.” She looked down and smiled. “Not that I’d know if I have thigh gap or not since I can’t see past my stomach.”

  Mrs. James looked thoughtful, her lips pursed as she regarded Alex with curiosity.

  “Did I overstep?” Alex asked honestly. “I have a tendency to overstep and say things I probably shouldn’t. In fact, it’s kind of my specialty. I’m a foot-in-mouth kind of girl, if you know what I mean.”

  “Actually, I think you helped me figure out something important.”

  Dylan’s eyebrows raised as he looked at his mother. He’d mentioned a few times that even he was surprised at how easily his parents accepted her, and that they shouldn’t let their guard down. He worried that at some point, they’d make it clear that they didn’t approve of Alex for him in the long-term.

  So far, however, they’d acted like any other parents of a boyfriend, cordial and curious about her life.

  “Well, that’s probably a first,” Alex admitted.

  “Has Dylan told you anything about the work I do?” she asked.

  Actually, Dylan had basically told her that his mother did nothing but be professional arm candy for his father.

  “Not much, no.”

  “He wouldn’t. He thinks the women’s clubs I belong to and charities I work with are nonsense.”

  “I do not,” Dylan argued, not an ounce of heat to his words. It was more flippant than anything.

  “You do too. You’ve always treated what I do as if I’m doing it to pass the time and nothing more. As if I don’t have anything better to do.” Lavinia sat with her spine straight and proud, and Alex’s respect for the woman doubled in an instant. “The work I’ve done has helped raise millions of dollars for charity, Dylan, and it’s important work. Whether you think it’s important or not.”

  “You tell him, Vinnie,” Alex said, holding out a fist for her to bump.

  Unfortunately, the gesture was lost on the woman and she just stared at the raised fist, confusion etched in her brow.

  “Lexi.” The words came out on a chuckle, Dylan laughing at the turn the conversation had taken.

  “You’re supposed to bump my fist with yours,” Alex instructed, directing her fist to Dylan who hesitantly demonstrated. When she put it back in front of Lavinia, the woman bumped her knuckles against Alex’s.

  “Tell me more about this epiphany I facilitated,” Alex said, going back to making her pie. Lavinia looked pleased, Dylan was smiling, Louis was watching her hands more than listening to the conversation, and Mr. James was just coming into the kitchen from the backyard.

  Alex smiled to herself.

  Don’t mind her, just baking a homemade pie for a bunch of fancy-pants rich people on Martha’s Vineyard for the fourth of July.

  As if that were actually real life.

  15

  Dylan flopped on his back, the dark fluffy blankets on his bed billowing around him.

  “Don’t make me go,” he grumbled, throwing a forearm over his eyes. “I can’t take it.”

  Alex laughed, crawling over the bunched comforter as best she could, her belly barely manageable.

  At thirty-four weeks pregnant, she had no idea how she could possible incubate the baby for another six weeks. She was sure she was stretched to capacity, literally nothing in her closet covering the giant bump but floor-length dresses and even those didn’t go past her knees.

  “Two weeks of sand, sun, and sightseeing in Dubai? Sounds like a dream to me. Could be worse,” she said, cuddling up to his side. “You could be here, growing bigger by the second with an alien inside your body.”

  He turned to his side, curling his body around hers. “I’d much rather be here with you, running out in the middle of the night to get you wasabi peanuts than be with Brady and Lincoln in freakin’ Dubai. I don’t like being away from you for even one night, let alone two weeks, especially right now.”

  “I’m fine, Dylan. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got more than enough to keep me busy while you’re gone, plus my entire family to keep me company. I don’t mind if you miss me, but you don’t have to worry about me.”

  “I can do both,” he corrected. “And I will. I already do when we aren’t together.”

  “Just enjoy yourself. Well, don’t enjoy yourself too much,” she corrected. “Keep it in your pants and all that, because I’ll be pissed if I have to kill you when you get home. And I promise not to go gallivanting around town with any other boys, just to make you jealous.”

  Dylan met her eyes in a withering stare. “Keep it my pants, Lex? As if that’s even a concern?”

  “You’re a gorgeous billionaire who’s about to spend two weeks in a glamorous foreign country with his bachelor business partners,” she pointed out. “Sure. Nothing to worry about.”

  “What would I want with anyone else when I have you at home waiting for me?”

  Alex rubbed her belly playfully. “Yeah, what else could you want but a big, round pregnant lady waiting for you at home.”

  It was meant as joke, but there was a kernel of truth to her words and they both knew it. His trip had come up suddenly and neither of th
em were thrilled with the prospect, but business was business and at their very core, they both understood that.

  In fact, she respected his work and his commitment to it immensely.

  So, even if she wasn’t excited about him being gone for two weeks, she was excited about the opportunity Brady had negotiated for the firm.

  “I couldn’t ever want any more than you, Lexi.” He rolled onto his back, hefting her up so she was straddling his waist. “When I get back, you’ll be almost ready to pop. After the baby’s born, we’re going to go on a nice long vacation.”

  She might need it. As the weeks went on and she got closer to delivery, the more nervous she became. Not about giving birth or delivering the baby, but about going back to a life without someone along for the ride twenty-four-seven. She’d gotten used to HalloBaby’s company, her squirming and hiccupping.

  Would she feel alone when the little girl was born? When the baby was handed over to Beth and Logan, would Alex miss her and being pregnant, or would she feel relief?

  She didn’t know and that unknown was a terrifying black hole.

  “A nice long vacation sounds nice,” she admitted, unsure how she would feel when it was all said and done.

  “Nice, huh?” He eyed her, not saying anything about her constant rapid mood shifts. “Tell me what you’re thinking, babe. Paris in the fall? New York and a Broadway tour? Cabin in the middle of nowhere? Tropical beach? Anything you want.”

  “I just want my house back, Dylan. I don’t need you to take me anywhere special. I just want to be home.”

  “I’ll make a couple calls before I leave and we’ll make sure it’s done before the baby comes. That way you can be in your own home after.”

  After.

  A.B.—After Baby.

  Dylan was a smart guy, intuitive and keen. He watched her closely. “I hate leaving you right now,” he whispered, his hands running up and down her arms.

  “Don’t you worry about me, Dylan James. I’m a big girl. I’ve got lots of people and lots of plans to keep me busy,” she told him again.

  “Dinners with your sisters, weekend nights with your father, lunch with Julia and Kelsey, hanging with Jenna. I at least feel better that you won’t be alone.”

  No, alone wasn’t her thing these days.

  “You just go have fun, hotshot, and land your whale.”

  She leaned over as far as she could to kiss him, but he had to meet her halfway, her belly way too big for that.

  His lips stretched into a smile against her.

  “You’re so hot when you talk business,” he said. “I’m going to go land my whale and then I’m going to come straight home to you.”

  “Your other whale?”

  They both got a laugh out of that.

  “Stop,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Promise me you’ll behave, Lex. No moving furniture or —”

  “I’m pregnant, Dylan, not dying.”

  “I love you.” The words were punctuated with finality, as if they were the be all, end all. He didn’t need to justify the statement with other words that would dilute the original message. The three words were enough to get the message across.

  He loved her. He was just trying to look out for her.

  If only she didn’t suck at taking direction so bad.

  “I love you, too and I’ll agree to not moving big furniture.”

  He narrowed his eyes, probably trying to see the lie in her eyes, but he seemed satisfied.

  What a sucker.

  “I told you, I’m fine,” Alex assured Beth for the hundredth time, her phone trapped between her ear and her shoulder as she rushed into the elevator heading up to Dylan’s office.

  She’d been sick going on twenty-four hours, just feeling like crap in general, and Beth was having none of it.

  “I know, but I don’t like you being sick like this. We should call Dr. Bell,” Beth insisted.

  “It’s just an upset stomach, Beth. It’s probably all the damn vinegar this baby wants all the time. Besides, I have an appointment in two days. If I’m still sick then, we’ll ask. Otherwise, I don’t think it’s the end of the world.”

  The elevator lurched up and Alex held the back of her hand to her mouth, her stomach flipping at the movement.

  “I’ll come over tonight and check on you,” Beth said. “If it’s not better by tomorrow, we call.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’m heading up to meet everyone for lunch, not that I’m hungry right now.” If anything, the thought of food was enough to make her hurl. “I’ll call you later.”

  “You better.”

  When the doors slid open on the firm’s floor, Alex stepped in, unsure how to proceed. She’d never been to the office without Dylan there and she’d definitely never gone to meet Grant for lunch. Since she’d hooked him up with Julia and she’d agreed to work with him on his project, he’d been a lot cooler, but they weren’t exactly friends. She’d agreed to meet Julia and Kelsey for lunch at the firm’s office, while they were in town for business, and Jenna, who was working on her summer internship. Grant was tagging along at Julia’s request.

  The woman seemed to like Grant, which was funny because Julia didn’t always like a lot of people. She was pretty guarded with who she let into her circle. Her inviting him to lunch was a sure sign that she thought he was an okay dude.

  “I just wrapped up a conference call,” Grant said as he hustled out of his office, sliding his jacket on and meeting her at the closed elevator doors. “Kelsey and Julia are waiting at the restaurant with Jenna.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him that was okay but snapped her lips shut, her stomach protesting yet again. She rested a hand on her belly, the nausea tightening her gut and making her insides clench.

  “Are you okay?” He looked leery, like riding an elevator was the last thing he wanted to do with her.

  She nodded, unable to form words around the bile rising in the back of her throat and the fire in her belly.

  “You don’t look okay,” he stated.

  Alex stood, stock still, waiting for the wave of sickness to pass, her forehead beaded with sweat.

  “Lexi?” Grant asked again, his brows furrowed down as he bent to get a good look at her. “You’re green. Literally, green. What’s wrong with you?”

  She sucked in a breath of clean air. “I’m okay, but I’ll skip lunch.”

  He nodded, taking her elbow in an uncharacteristic show of gentlemanly manners and led her into the elevator when the doors slid open before them. The very idea of the ride down, bumping and rocking, was enough to make her consider taking the stairs, but before she could overthink or change her mind, Grant walked her in and pressed the button for the lobby.

  Alex grabbed the rail, just waiting for that moment when the doors would close and that initial lurch would push her stomach into her throat. She was pleasantly surprised when it wasn’t as bad as she imagined.

  “I think I’m okay,” she said, more to herself than Grant, but he was still there, listening.

  “Okay,” he said warily.

  They watched the floors tick by, the awkward silence thick around them as the numbers on the display above the doors changed. By the time they sped past the thirtieth floor, she felt her stomach heave again but she held it back, closing her eyes and meditating herself through the moment. Not that she knew how to meditate, but she winged it.

  Suddenly, the lights in the elevator blinked on and off, then on again. It screeched to a dead stop, Alex’s knees buckling at the sudden change as she found herself squeezed into the corner of the elevator, Grant braced against the railing across from her. His eyes were wide as he looked all around, as if he’d be able to see the source of the problem floating around them.

  The wall was cool against her back but the sheer panic that overtook her was a bit distracting because in that moment, an overwhelming pressure overtook her and she felt a sudden wetness that scared the crap out of her.

  “No,” she
whispered. “No, no, no, no.”

  “What?” Grant grunted as he patted his pockets, pulling out his cell phone.

  Alex shook her head. “Nothing.”

  She was just going to let him call for help. They’d get the elevator to the ground floor and then she’d call Beth, because she was about ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure her water just broke, which meant the baby was on her way.

  But it was way too early for that. A month early, to be exact. And she was trapped in an elevator with Grant frickin’ Harrison of all people, too many miles from the hospital she was supposed to go to when she went into labor and the people that were supposed to be there.

  “The office numbers are all busy. I think the building lost power,” Grant told her, phone to his ear. “We can either wait it out or I can try to get the property manager on the phone.”

  “I think you should call nine-one-one,” she told him. “We’re going to need to get out of here as soon as possible.”

  “You claustrophobic or something? Because I think if we can, we should just get the building manager to take care of it.”

  “No, I’d be all for that,” she agreed. “But I’m pretty sure my water just broke, and I really don’t want you delivering my sister’s baby in this elevator.”

  “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  She shot him a glare. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

  He inspected her from head to toe, his gaze pausing when he reached below her waist. “I’ll call nine-one-one.”

  He did, explaining the situation and Alex’s predicament. While he did that, she felt that same crash of nausea come over her again and she sucked in a breath through her nose and let it out slowly, breathing through it.