More Than Pleasure You: A More Than Words Novella

by Shayla Black

  My heart starts pounding. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? “Are you…retiring?”

  I have a hard time asking the question. My dad has talked about it off and on over the years like something in the distant future, but the truth is I never actually pictured him following through.

  “I’d like to. I’ll stay around in an advisory position until the IPO is over so we don’t rock the boat and affect the price of the initial stock offering, but essentially I want you to take over, effective February twelfth.”

  In nine days? Holy shit.

  “You look shocked,” Dad drawls.

  “Um…huge understatement.”

  “I’m sure. But since you left, I’ve been thinking. This makes the most sense for us all. If you’ll think about it, you know that’s true.” My dad claps me on the shoulder. “What do you say, son?”

  It’s everything I’ve worked for all my life. My father is giving it to me on a silver fucking platter years before I thought he’d concede that I’d earned it. I’ll be a major Wall Street player before I’m thirty-five. I’ll be a billionaire before I’m forty. I’ll be able to write my own ticket for the rest of my life. It’s a dream come true.

  But Skye, my Hawaiian girl, will never come to New York with me, no matter how much money I’m worth. Accepting my dad’s offer will mean leaving her behind. It will mean ripping my heart in two.

  I don’t know what the fuck to do.

  “I need a drink.” I head inside and head straight for the decorative booze cart in the living room. Scotch isn’t going to solve anything, but it will help me process this oh-fuck-me shock.

  Head or heart? That’s essentially the choice in front of me.

  Whatever I do will have enormous ramifications on my future.

  But hey, no pressure. We’re just talking the rest of your life…

  Suddenly, I hear the front door open, then shut carefully. Skye. How am I going to introduce her to my father?

  I don’t hear footsteps or a greeting or any noise. She’s absolutely silent. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. She’s a lot of things, but quiet isn’t one of them.

  Setting my drink on the cart, I run to intercept her in the entryway. I’m desperate to touch her, hold her, have one more minute before everything changes. Goddamn it, I’m not ready for Skye to meet my father. No, that’s not it. I’m not ready for him to meet her, for him to know precisely why I’m not celebrating his potential retirement or immediately accepting his offer to become CEO. This secret is mine. She’s mine. I don’t want him trying to talk me out of her—and he will. I want to keep Skye to myself until I can figure this conundrum out.

  But when I round the corner, she stands rooted in place with her purse hanging limply from her shoulder, an expression that says her world has fallen apart, and tears streaming down her surprisingly pale face.

  “Honey?” In that moment, I forget everything except her. I scoop her in my arms to console her.

  She shakes her head and backs away. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so…”

  When her sentence dissolves into tears, I’m really confused. What has she done but love me and show me what meaningful relationships should be? “Honey, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

  Is she worried that I don’t love her? I haven’t told her yet. I haven’t admitted that I’ve been seriously thinking of proposing for real. I haven’t confessed that I don’t want to live without her by my side.

  What the hell am I going to choose?

  She nods miserably. “Yes, I do. I told you it would be okay and…” She covers her face with her hands.

  Even though I’m frantically trying to figure out what the fucking problem is, I can’t not hold her. “Whatever it is I’m sure we can fix it, honey. It will be fine.”

  “It won’t. And you can’t just fix it,” she hurls with another sob. “I’m pregnant.”

  * * * *

  My father steps into the house from the lanai and looks at me across the empty feet between us, shock freezing his expression. Shit. He overheard everything.

  And he’s already wondering where my loyalties—and my future—lie.

  When she sees my dad, her eyes flare wide. Horror fills her face. I haven’t introduced them, but my father and I look enough alike that she can certainly guess who he is.

  “Oh.” She tries to back away. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

  I curl my arm around her back to stay her. “Skye, this is my dad, Douglas.”

  She swipes at the mascara running down her face and lifts her chin bravely. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  I’m proud of the way she tries to brazen it out.

  My dad holds out his hand, and I’m glad when she takes it. “Likewise, Skye. Stephen, I’ll leave you two to talk. Call me.”

  Because he needs an answer soon. As if Skye’s pronouncement didn’t throw a major monkey wrench into my whole life.

  “Yeah.” I can’t say anything else right now.

  I’m relieved when the door shuts behind my dad, leaving me alone with my girl. And our baby.

  Holy shit.

  “I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t know he was…”

  Here? Obviously. “I didn’t know he was coming, either.” And that’s not what’s important right now. “Are you sure about the baby, honey?”

  Skye simply nods. “I noticed my breasts have been weirdly achy for the past couple of days. Then I realized my period should have started almost a week ago. I took a home test.”

  I don’t argue the accuracy of the test just now, mostly because I remember when Amanda realized she was pregnant. Same symptoms. If Skye were any other woman, I’d wonder if she was making this up for the money. But that’s not who she is. I knew going in bare was a risk. At the time, I didn't care.

  If you had a do-over on that day would you choose anything different?

  Right now, I don’t know.

  “Let’s get you seen by a doctor.” Just in case she’s the one percent that’s inaccurate.

  She swipes at her tears again. “That will take days.”

  Usually, yeah. But I’m counting on Nia and her family by marriage. With that many pregnant women, surely someone’s doctor can fit her in.

  “Give me a minute.” But I can’t walk away when Skye looks like she’s falling apart, so I lead her to a chair, sit her down, and kiss her forehead. “Breathe, honey.”

  “You aren’t shocked?”

  “I am. But we’ll figure it out.”

  Then I walk out of the room, debating who to call. Nia is the obvious choice, but she’ll ask questions, want details, and probably put in her two cents. I need someone who will be emotionless and cut to the chase.

  After scrolling through my contacts, I hit a button to dial the perfect person. He answers on the first ring. “Hey, Evan. What are you up to?”

  “Work.”

  He’s not a great conversationalist. Never has been. I don’t take it personally. There’s a reason he’d rather talk to computers. “Then I won’t keep you. Do you know the name of Nia’s obstetrician?”

  Dutifully, he recites the woman’s name and phone number. “She’s usually booked up, but if you need her to see Skye quickly, her nurse practitioner runs a drop-in clinic just down the street.”

  No one can ever accuse Evan of being slow. Without asking a single question, he seems to have grasped what I need.

  “Thanks.”

  “I assume you don’t want me to say anything to your sister?”

  “For now, anyway.”

  “Then as far as I’m concerned, you never called. Goodbye.” He hangs up.

  I pocket my phone, then return to Skye. She’s staring at the wall vacantly. Her news surprised me, but it’s clearly freaked her out a hundred times more. I’m not the one who has to endure morning sickness, exhaustion, and all the other hormonal crap that comes with pregnancy. I’m not the one with a physical job that may be somewhere between difficult and impossible to do once she’s in her third t
rimester. I’m not the one who has to go through childbirth.

  Are you going to help her raise this child? Or choose your career?

  I grimace. Those are questions I can’t answer yet. One step at a time.

  My dad wants me to think about his offer. Right now, all I can think about is Skye.

  With slow steps, I gather my shit and approach, crouching in front of her and taking her hands. “I think I can get you seen by someone this afternoon. Once we’ve gotten some answers, we’ll talk.”

  She hesitates, then nods. “Let me clean up.”

  Skye disappears into the bathroom for a few minutes. I hear running water. Over that, I hears sobs. She’s scared.

  Fuck, I’m rattled, too. I admit it.

  When she finally emerges, she looks red-eyed but surprisingly composed. Hell, almost placid. I’m not fooled, but everything about her body language tells me she doesn’t want to talk right now. She’s fragile. If I disturb her facade, she might fall apart.

  I swallow back my need to hold her and help her into the car instead.

  The trip to the clinic is quick, the wait even shorter. A nurse practitioner with a calming demeanor and a kind smile takes Skye to the back and gives her some instructions while leaving me in the waiting room. Less than five minutes later, an assistant opens the door and invites me in.

  Skye is there alone, quietly trying to hold herself together. I can’t not touch her, so I take her in my arms.

  “Honey, it will be all right.” It’s an empty assurance. I don’t know how it will be yet, I just know it has to be.

  “You think so? I don’t know for sure, but I’m guessing your dad came to Maui to take you back to New York.” Her expression dares me to refute her.

  I can’t. “It’s complicated.”

  Before Skye can say anything, the nurse practitioner, Lydia, enters with the same calm smile and urges us both to sit.

  My heart is thudding wildly as I do. I’m on the edge of my seat. I don’t even know what I’m hoping for. Life will be less tricky if Skye isn’t pregnant.

  But will that truly make life better?

  My head is a fucked-up jumble. It’s as if life woke up this morning and thought it would be a great joke to shake everything up like a bottle of soda, then rip off the cap. No one is laughing, especially not Skye.

  I take her hand and squeeze it.

  “I have your test results,” Lydia says, managing to keep her expression completely neutral. She’d make a hell of a poker player.

  “And?” I prompt her along.

  She gives me a patient smile, then turns to Skye, reaching out with a gentle hand. “You’re pregnant.”

  The air leaves my lungs. I sit dizzy and stunned in my chair.

  Holy. Shit. I’m going to be a father.

  All the color leaves Skye’s face. “Oh, my god…”

  “I see it’s a shock. Believe me, you’re not the first one to be surprised. Give it a few days to sink in and you’ll be fine. Your due date is approximately October sixth. You’ll want to follow up with your ob-gyn in the next month. If you time the visit right, you might be far enough along to hear the baby’s heartbeat.”

  Her words slam into me. A heartbeat already?

  “O-okay.” Skye nods, clearly on auto-pilot.

  “Do you have any other questions?” Lydia asks.

  Probably a million…and I can’t think of a single one right now.

  Skye simply shakes her head.

  I pay for the office visit as she wanders out the door looking shell-shocked and frozen. I’m only two minutes behind her, but seeing her leaning against my rental car looking so lost pains me.

  I can’t offer to go back to that night and undo what we did; I can only go forward and take her in my arms.

  “Honey, we’re going to figure something out.”

  She blinks up at me, her big brown eyes so full of anguish. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “I don’t, either. But we made a human being together. We’ll work this out together, too.”

  She nods absently. “Sorry to be so weepy.”

  “You’re stunned. And hormonal. I’ve been through this recently with my sister. I get it.”

  Skye gives me a vacant half smile as I help her into the car.

  The ride back is silent. I take her hand. She clutches me in return. It’s the only outward sign that she wants anything from me at all.

  When we pull up in front of the Aloha Rainbow house, I see an unfamiliar car. Who the fuck is here now?

  Beside me, Skye groans. “Sherry? Again?”

  I’ve had enough of this woman. And now is a really shitty time for her tantrum. I’m going to make sure she understands that no means no once and for all.

  “Stay here. I’ll take care of this.”

  “No. Finn is my ex, so this is my problem.” She’s out the passenger door before I can stop her.

  I follow.

  “There you are,” Sherry calls out to Skye over the breeze blowing through the front yard.

  “Look, it’s been a really long day, and there’s a lot going on. I don’t want to argue—”

  “I’m not surprised.” She glares at me. “Did you finally realize your fiancé is using you? I already know. You can come home with me, Skye. I’m sure Finn will rush over to console you.”

  What. The. Fuck? “She’s not going anywhere with you, Sherry. And I’m not using her.”

  Is this woman delusional?

  Skye sighs tiredly. “He’s not, but I just found out I’m pregnant, so it would be great if you gave us a little space to—”

  “By him?” She points in my direction.

  “Yes. Sherry, I never had sex with your son. Not once. We’re friends.”

  She sniffs. “You would have been better off with Finn. This one is only here to sell you out.”

  “What are you talking about?” I approach, scowling.

  “I did some digging about you, mister. I know you come from big New York money. I know you’re hailed as some financial genius. I know you help broker deals around the world. But I have friends all over the island who tell me you’ve been inquiring about the very land we’re standing on.”

  Son of a bitch. “Listen—”

  “No, you shut up.” Sherry turns to Skye. “He’s inquired about changing the zoning on this property, about road and sewage expansion, and about the net value of the land. My guess is he has a client who wants to build a hotel, and he knew the Abelsons would never sell to him, so he cozied up to the only person in the world who could convince them to market the land to someone else. You.”

  Shock—and yes, betrayal—crosses Skye’s face.

  I grab Skye’s hands in mine. “That’s not what happened. Yes, I have a client who asked me to look at the viability of making this land into a hotel. But I’m only asking due diligence questions and—”

  “Was having sex with me part of your due diligence, too?”

  She’s believing Sherry over me?

  She’s known the woman since she was five. She’s known you for less than a month. Who did you think was going to win the credibility battle?

  “I had sex with you because I wanted you and you wanted me. I’m still here with you and contemplating giving up my whole future for you and our baby, despite the fact my dad came here today to offer me all I’ve ever wanted professionally. Every. Single. Thing. And even before I knew about the baby, I didn’t jump to say yes to his proposition because I love you.”

  Skye blinks. “You do?”

  “Don’t fall for that. He only ‘loves’ you now because it’s convenient,” Sherry butts in. “If he brokers a hotel deal on this property, it will make him more money in one transaction than you or I will ever see in our lives. And he’s too smart not to know that his best chance of convincing Erma and Dean to sell is wooing you.”

  “That’s bullshit.” I whirl on her. “You don’t know me, my intentions, or my heart. You don’t know a fucking thing.”
r />   Sherry glares at me. “Are you going to tell me you had no idea the Abelsons have all but given Skye this property?”

  I can’t say that. “You have everything wrong. A client asked me to make inquiries while I was in town. I haven’t heard from him in weeks. I’m not pursuing it. And for all I know, he dropped the project. It happens all the time.”

  “So you just happened to rent this house and then the client asked you to investigate the land?”

  No, and I’m not going to put myself in the guilty corner Sherry is trying to push me into. I’m aware that, when it comes to this situation, I have dirt under my nails. But no fucking way am I admitting to the premeditated screwing she’s trying to pin on me.

  “Sherry, no matter how bad you paint me to be, even if you manage to separate me from the mother of my child for your own selfish ends—which is really despicable, in my opinion—Skye isn’t going to fall madly in love with Finn. And he isn’t going to leave his wife for her. Instead of trying to make everyone do what you want them to, why don’t you work on accepting what is?”

  The woman gasps, wide eyed, pressing her hand to her chest as if she’s a delicate little flower and I’m the sun brutally wilting her away.

  I don’t give a shit. She and her act both piss me off.

  Ignoring her, I take Skye by the elbow. “Let’s go inside and talk about this, honey.”

  She digs in her heels. “Did you stay here specifically to check out the property?”

  I can’t lie to her. “Yes, but that has nothing to do with why I remained or why I wanted you.”

  She stares at me, weighing my words. I can’t tell if she believes me. “Did you know that the Abelsons intend to leave me this property someday?”

  This is a trickier question.

  I sigh. I didn’t owe Sherry a damn thing, but I owe Skye this answer. I can’t build any kind of future with her or our baby if I’m not honest. “The night we went to Nia’s for dinner, Maxon told me he’d heard that rumor, but he didn’t know if it was true. I never followed up because it didn’t matter to me. I love you.”