Start Over: A Novel (Start Again Series #2)

Home > Contemporary > Start Over: A Novel (Start Again Series #2) > Page 31
Start Over: A Novel (Start Again Series #2) Page 31

by J. Saman


  God, I love this man.

  “Sleep. I need sleep and if I still feel like this when I wake, I’ll ring a colleague for a prescription after I check my throat.”

  Luke presses his lips to the back of my head again, running his hand down my hair in a soothing caress that instantly has my eyes closing and my body relaxing into his.

  When I wake up, I’m alone in my bed, but I’m tucked in so tightly I can hardly move. I have no idea what time it is, but I hear the television on low from the living room so I know Luke must still be here.

  I’m sweaty and sticky, and the throbbing in my head has abated somewhat so my fever must be down.

  I crawl out of bed reluctantly, my bladder the driving force behind that, and after using the washroom, I dress in lounge pants and a sweatshirt before heading out into my living room. Luke is watching a baseball game on low volume, and typing away a million miles a minute on his laptop.

  He must hear me enter because his fingers pause mid-keystroke and his head rolls back on the sofa to face me. “Hey, baby.” He smiles brightly. “How are you feeling?”

  “A little better maybe?”

  “Is that a question?” he chuckles, patting the seat next to him on the couch, which I accept, drawing my knees up to my chest and curling into his side.

  “Not sure. Might be.”

  Luke kisses my forehead gently. “Feels like your fever is down, which is good because there is something I have to mention to you, and I was hesitant to do it while you were burning with fever.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic.”

  “Take a look at my screen and then tell me if I’m being dramatic.”

  The way he says that has me sitting up a little straighter, peering over at his computer, but I can’t decipher what exactly I’m looking at. It appears to be a screen within a screen on one side and another vertical rectangle on the other that is black with a bunch of white letters and numbers that are completely nonsensical.

  “What am I looking at here?”

  “This,” he points to the screen within a screen, “is Jason’s phone.” I give him a look, but he ignores me. “And that is his email.” Luke clicks on something and all of his emails pop up.

  “And why are you checking his email?” Yeah, I’m annoyed.

  “Because your phone rang twice while you were asleep and both times it was the same California number. The first time I didn’t pick up, but the second time I figured it must be Sophia, so I answered. It wasn’t her.”

  I’m shaking my head before he even finishes his statement, ignoring the dull throb accompanying the motion, because it’s completely overshadowed by the building trepidation creeping its way up my spine.

  “He doesn’t have my number. No.”

  Luke cups my cheek, keeping my eyes focused on his. “He does baby. I spoke to him. He was surprised at first when I answered and told me his name when I asked it. I informed him with the upmost civility that if he ever calls you again, I’d rip his heart from his chest Indiana Jones style, but all that did was make him laugh.”

  I don’t know what to say. Why is Jason calling me? I ran into him one bloody time in the street and that was the first time I’d seen him in years. How did he even get my number?

  “So I hacked his phone again,” Luke continues, “and his computer, but that’s not how he found you. There are no links to you in his system, other than the phone calls, which is good. I also wiped your contact information from it.”

  “You do know that I have no idea what that really means, right?”

  “It means that he’s not hacking you, baby. It means that he found you another way other than through your personal systems. He’s in California still. He’s not here and I told him that any more contact would result in another restraining order, which we would make public, including to his employer. That shut him up and he hung up on me pretty quickly after my threat. It’s not all that difficult for someone to get your cell phone number, and I’m checking into everything so you have nothing to worry about.”

  I can only stare at him.

  “You don’t think—” I can’t even say the words.

  “No, darlin’. I think he took my threat seriously enough that he’ll leave you alone, but if he calls you again, please let me know.”

  “Jesus, Luke.” I shake my head and he wraps his arm around me tighter, reassuring me in the best possible way. “I can’t even.”

  “I know, but I’m on it. His system is clean. There is nothing about you, not even a search, so I think he was just testing the waters with that phone call.”

  “But you think he’ll leave me alone?”

  “Yes. I do.” He kisses the top of my head and I sink further into him.

  “How can you even be sure?”

  “Because I have access to his system,” he points to his screen, “and I will fuck up his entire world with a simple keystroke if he tries anything.”

  I feel like that should bother me. Him being able to do that to Jason. But it doesn’t.

  “Do you want me to fix you something to eat?” he asks softly, setting his computer down with the screen open, evidently still engaged in something imperative.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “A shower?”

  I glance up at him and he’s smiling down at me. The icy brick of fear that was weighing me down moments ago, seems to be thawing. Luke makes me feel safe, and everything he said to me about protecting me with his life comes flashing back.

  He meant it.

  Of that I have no doubt. The fact that he can do the things he can do, well, yeah, that doesn’t bother me so much anymore. Nothing else matters except for him and me and us.

  So instead of questioning him further, I say, “A shower would be perfect.”

  Because I think it just may be.

  I think we may be perfect, and if we can get through all the craziness of the last year, I think we can get through just about anything together.

  Somehow we found our way.

  Epilogue

  Luke

  I had the entire day and night planned out to perfection. Everything from going to Bumbershoot with Kate and Ryan to a quiet, romantic dinner later back at our place.

  Everything was planned out perfectly.

  And then Kate’s freaking water broke in the middle of the damn show.

  So instead of watching the bands together and exploring the festival, Ivy and I are driving through horrific traffic toward the hospital. It’s hard to be pissed at the Duchess for ruining my plans, especially when we’re all so uneasy.

  The twins are early after all.

  Ivy’s been on the phone for the last ten minutes, ensuring that all the best people are on the case, since it is Labor Day weekend.

  And despite the interruption and the steady stream of panic flowing through me at the potential risk to my future godchildren, I’m smiling. Ivy is too preoccupied to notice, which is a good thing because she’d probably think I’m an asshole for smiling in a situation as precarious as this, but I can’t help it. She’ll just have to deal with it.

  Somehow I managed to convince her to move in with me two months after we officially started dating again. It just made sense. After the small scare with Jason, which turned out to be nothing more than that singular phone call, Ivy didn’t want to stay alone and I was only too happy to offer my services as bed buddy.

  We did the whole back and forth thing, but it was tiring and annoying, and our conflicting schedules made it all the more hectic. I asked her to move in with me nearly every day, and eventually my persistence won out because she finally acquiesced and said yes, though she told me it was for no other reason than to shut me up.

  I’m okay with that.

  The reason is inconsequential as long as I have her with me. Once she moved in, we transitioned from great to awesome. She wanted boring—excuse me, normal—and that’s exactly what I give her. Every damn day, I rock her world with the best fucking form of normal you could ever
imagine.

  We cook dinner together, and watch TV and movies, and read a lot. She’s even learning to love baseball. Now that it’s going into fall, I’m going to push hard to convert her into an American Football fan. That Australian Football League her dad is so into is just not for me.

  And though I’ve had this plan brewing in the back of my mind practically since I laid eyes on her, I’ve held off.

  Ivy’s dad wasn’t getting better, in fact, he was getting worse, but two weeks ago a kidney—that was not Ivy’s—became available and he had surgery. A successful surgery at that, and he appears to be doing really well with his new organ.

  Everyone is happy, so happy that it felt like the appropriate time to rock the boat, just a little.

  But now I’m not going to get the chance because I’m parking in the lot at the hospital instead of listening to kick ass music before eating a perfect dinner with my perfect girl.

  “I see you smiling, Lucas, and I know you’re razzed about becoming an uncle or godfather or whatever you’ll be, but those babies are early. Let’s hold our excitement until we know everyone is okay, yeah?”

  She has no idea what actually has me grinning like a stupid bastard.

  “Did you know that when you’re nervous, your accent is a million times thicker than it normally is?”

  Ivy rolls her eyes, hopping out of the car without responding to me.

  “Did you ring Kyle and Claire?”

  “I texted them and they both said they were on their way. Claire was at the show with a date that she had to dump, but I think Kyle should be here soon.”

  Ivy nods her head, looking as apprehensive as I’ve ever seen her.

  “Hey.” I pull her into my side, wrapping a comforting arm around her. “They’ll be fine, baby. You’ll see. All of them.”

  We rush into the hospital as Ivy fishes through her bag looking for her hospital ID, which should hopefully get us past the dictators at the front desk. It does, but once we get outside the trauma room where Kate is apparently delivering the babies, we’re stopped by a small and surprisingly intimidating woman.

  “There are already too many people in that room and your presence won’t help a thing,” she says with an air of authority that’s begging to be challenged. “You can go back out to the waiting room.”

  I’m about to open my mouth to set her straight when Ivy grabs my hand, trying to pull me away.

  “No way,” I bark at her.

  “Luke, first of all, Marybeth here is right.” I don’t give a fuck if Marybeth here is right. “There are far too many people in that room. We’ll just be in the way. Second of all, Kate is in the process of giving birth.”

  “And your point is?”

  “My point is that she does not want you seeing that, and something tells me that if we walk in there now, Ryan will kick your arse for seeing his wife’s vagina.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t thought about the whole seeing Kate’s vagina thing. That thought makes me shudder in the worst possible way.

  “Yeah. Oh.” Ivy manages to tug me into compliance this time, and once we’re back out in the waiting room we take a seat on the hard unforgiving pleather chairs.

  “I can’t believe Kate and Ryan are having their babies today.” I shake my head, beyond incredulous.

  “Do you want that someday?” Ivy asks casually, but something in her intonation has me craning my head to examine her.

  “Want what? Babies?”

  “Yes.”

  She’s not meeting my eyes as she chews nervously on the corner of her lip.

  “Of course I do, though I think I may prefer one at a time. Two seems like a lot to have at once.” I’m watching her absorb my words, trying to figure out why she’s gone from apprehensive over Kate and the twins, to edgy and agitated.

  She just bobs her head, looking anywhere but at me, and I can’t stand this another moment. Shifting to face her fully, the seat squeaks its protest beneath me as I reach out and take her face in my hand, guiding it until her eyes are forced to meet mine.

  “What’s up?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re the worst liar, so out with it. You’re making an already tense situation worse. Are you okay? Is there something I should know?”

  Then she breaks down into tears and now my heart is really hammering away in my chest.

  “I’m sorry,” she sobs and I wrap my arms around her, terrified that she’s going say something like she’s dying or we can never have children or even adopt because of some obscure Australian glitch that makes everything impossible. That doesn’t even make sense in my mind, but the fact that she’s crying the way she is, in my arms, has me thinking all kinds of crazy illogical things.

  “Ivy, you’re scaring me, darlin’. What’s going on? Are you all right?”

  “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but I’m crying and I can’t make it stop.”

  “Okay, now you have to tell me, because you wouldn’t believe the things going through my mind right now and I can promise you that all of them are really bad.”

  More tears.

  Crap.

  “Are you dying?” She shakes her head. “Are you sick or is someone in your family sick?” Another head shake. “Are you secretly in love with someone else or have knowledge that the polar ice caps have finally melted and Seattle is about to be flooded with water?”

  She laughs through her tears and at this point, I’ll take what I can get.

  “None of that.”

  “Then, darlin’, you gotta tell me. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, okay?”

  She sniffs a little, wiping her face on my t-shirt, before pulling back to look at me with red-rimmed, puffy eyes, and disheveled hair. She’s so beautiful.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  I can only stare at her, while those words replay through my head as I try to make sense of them. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant.

  “You’re pregnant?” This time I get a head nod. “And it’s mine?”

  She rolls her eyes, “Of course it’s yours, you daft wanker.”

  And now I’m smiling like a son of a bitch because, Ivy, the woman I had planned to get down on one knee and propose to tonight, is pregnant with my baby.

  “Hell yeah!” I grab her, pulling her into me and hugging her securely against me until I remember that she’s pregnant and maybe squeezing the life from her isn’t a wise thing anymore.

  “You’re okay with this?” She’s still sniffing back her tears.

  How can she even question that?

  “I’m so much more than okay. I’m beyond fucking ecstatic. In fact, I think it’s safe to say I’ve never been happier in my life.” Reaching out, I cup the flat expanse of her lower belly in awe. My baby is in there. “When did you find out?”

  “This morning. I took a test because I missed my period last week and it came back positive and I’ve been thinking all day about how I was going to tell you.” She shrugs, sniffles, and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “I thought you’d be mad as a cut snake with me.”

  I snicker at the phrase, shaking my head.

  And even though we’re in the hospital’s emergency department waiting room sitting on miserably uncomfortable chairs and it smells like bleach and body odor, I can’t think of a better time or place to do this.

  I lower myself onto the floor, kneeling in front of her and capturing her thighs between my arms before I lock my eyes with hers.

  “Ivy, baby, I love you and this is not how I wanted to do this. Not at all in fact.” Her expression drops. She thinks I’m talking about the baby. “I actually had a whole plan for tonight. Nothing outlandish or over the top, but now everything is different. You’re pregnant and we’re having a baby and well, I just can’t wait any longer.”

  Her head is downcast, clearly she’s not picking up on what I’m about to do, which just makes this moment better.

  I place the petit black velvet box that I’ve kept in my pocket f
or over a week on her lap in front of her fingers, which are twisted into knots. Her eyes widen as she stares at the box before gazing at me, her mouth popping open into an adorable O shape.

  “Ivy, darlin’, from the moment I met you all those years ago I knew you were someone special. Life certainly has pulled us in a million different ways, but we came back together despite everything, which tells me that we’re meant to be. It tells me that not everything is random, because we’re here together. I love you and I will always love you. And I will always love our child,” I press my fingers to her lower abdomen again, “as well as any subsequent children.” A sob escapes her throat, but I think this time, it’s a happy one. I open the box in her lap, revealing the diamond solitaire that I bought her. “Will you marry me? Because there is no way I can have a happy ending without you.”

  “Yes,” she whispers, her voice thick with tears and emotion, and though it wasn’t the shout from the rooftops I was hoping for, this is far better, because Ivy Green just agreed to be mine forever and we’re having a baby.

  I slide my ring onto her finger, both of us taking it in before I pull her toward me and press my lips to hers, promising her everything.

  Seriously, could this get any better?

  “Ivy, Luke?” A voice calls out and we turn to face the nurse who looks startled to see us embracing like this, before she clears her throat and her expression turns completely impassive. “The babies were both born,” she says stoically. “Kate and Ryan asked that I tell you.”

  She looks like she’s about to turn and leave it at that.

  Is she kidding me right now?

  “Hey,” I call out, ready to tackle this lady to the ground if she takes another step. “Are they okay? Are they boys, girls, hobbits, what?”

  Her stone façade doesn’t crack, but I don’t care as long as she tells me what I need to know.

  “One girl and one boy. Everyone is doing well, but the babies are premature and will have stay up in the NICU for a few days.”

  Both Ivy and I sag in relief.

  “Can we see them?” Ivy asks.

  “Not yet. We’re moving Kate up to the postpartum floor. You can visit her there.”

 

‹ Prev