Chapter 9

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Nola, but I’m also kind of hurt you felt you couldn’t trust me with it.”

Nola sighed as they sat inside her car with the engine running. “You wouldn’t have been able to keep my secret, Brooks; that’s why I didn’t tell you.” She’d wanted to, more than anything, but she’d known asking him to keep that secret from his brother would have been too much.

“You’re probably right but I would have liked to be there for you when you were so obviously sick. Are you okay now?”

She nodded and grabbed his hand, happy to have her friend back. “I was dehydrated and my blood pressure was low. It’s all normal now but I need to take better care of myself. That morning sickness, which should be called all day sickness, surprised me. It’s been tough.”

“Coffee?” he asked with a hint of amusement.

“The worst.”

“So you weren’t rushing to get away from me?”

“Brooks, you’re my best friend and I would never intentionally hurt you. You just happen to catch me at a really bad time in my life.” And she’d almost lost him.

“Is it that bad? Being pregnant with Bronx’s baby?”

“No,” she sighed. “It’s not bad but it is complicated and I don’t want your brother to do anything to make this more difficult for me.” She’d seen how angry he’d been at the hospital when he found out about the baby and she wasn’t looking forward to battling it out with him. She just wanted some peace. “Anyway it wasn’t some big secret but a guy who lives like he does has no interest in having a child. Besides I don’t need him to be involved.”

“Just hear him out, Nola. He might surprise you.”

She didn’t think she would be surprised but she also knew that she couldn’t avoid him forever. “I have a few days before the office is open again so I’ll be ready when I see him.” At least she hoped so.

Brooks turned her car into the driveway and she felt her entire body stiffen in shock. “Yeah, about that.”

“Brooks, what did you do?” Her fingers dug into his arm, squeezing less than gently. “Tell me.”

“It wasn’t me. Even coming to get you was Bronx’s idea because he had some things to do. I assumed they all had something to do with you.” He gave her a little shove and she scowled but stepped from the car anyway. “I’ll bring your car back tomorrow. For Christmas brunch.”

“Brunch? What am I supposed to eat tonight?”

He laughed. “I’m sure you and Bronx will figure it out. Since you two get along a lot better than you lead on, right?” With another deep laugh he waited until she was at her door to drive away.

Nola stood on her porch, inhaling and exhaling deeply before twisting the knob and going inside. The place smelled like food. And music played, Christmas music. Someone’s been busy, she thought as she looked around at the lights strung on the tree, the presents she hadn’t bought piled under it. “Bronx, what are you doing in my house?”

He stepped from the kitchen wearing her daisy print apron and a heart stopping smile, wiping his hands on his hips. “Nola, you’re home. How are you feeling?”

She dropped her bag and folded her arms across her chest. “Pretty damn confused right now. About why you’re here.” And why in the hell he looked so damn hot in that apron?

“I thought we could talk. Over dinner. Or lunch, or whatever.” He stood, hands shoved in his pockets like a sexy model for designer jeans, a slow lazy grin with just a hint of nervousness.

She had no idea what to do here. Her instincts screamed to kick him out and scream at him for violating her space. But they did need to talk and right now he didn’t seem to be angry or emotional. “Okay. I need some good food because hospital food lives down to its reputation.”

This time his smile came fast and so damn bright she felt her knees buckle and she had to hold on to the back of a chair to stay upright. “Great. Do you want to get more comfortable or something?”

He was nervous, she realized and grinned. “Yes I do, actually. I’ll be down in ten.” She made it halfway up the steps with the weight of his gaze on her before she turned. “Thank you, Bronx, for feeding me.”

“Anytime, Nola.”

“Let’s start with dinner this time and see how it goes,” she told him and went to her room for a much needed hot shower. She didn’t know how to feel about having Bronx in her home, looking so comfortable. Seeming so at home surrounding her by things that he’d picked out. For her.

She rushed through a shower and changed into a comfortable pair of yoga pants, wool socks and a thick sweater. She didn’t feel ready to face the conversation they would have to have about the baby or the future, but she would be a single mom soon which meant she couldn’t avoid the nasty parts. Running a brush through her hair and adding a spritz of perfume, she decided she looked good enough. Her belly wanted food and the food was downstairs. With Bronx.

“I thought you might stay up there all day,” he joked when she stepped inside the kitchen.

“Nah, just twisting up my courage for our talk.” The dining room just off the kitchen held her burgundy and gold placemats and napkins, and the table had been set with dishes she didn’t recognize. “Where did these come from?”

“I bought them a few years ago and never had a reason to use them so I thought today was the perfect time to break them in. What do you think?”

“They’re beautiful.” And elegant. Royal blue with gold embellishments, the china had intricate designs that were hand painted. “I do have dishes, you know.”

He flashed a grin that had her belly flipping and it had nothing to do with morning sickness. “I figured, but I wanted to show you mine. I’m not just the playboy you think I am, Nola.”

She’d always believed it to be true, which probably contributed to the crush she’d nursed on him for nearly two years. “I never thought you were just a playboy, Bronx. But I think the playboy is all you want anyone to see.”

Surprisingly, his face turned a shade of pink she never would’ve thought him capable of as he nodded. “Maybe you’re right. It’s easy to be the playboy, though. And fun.”

She laughed. “What’s not to like about beautiful women throwing themselves at your feet? I don’t blame you for taking advantage of what life has to offer, Bronx. You’re young and single, with no reason not to take them up on their offers.” She just wished she hadn’t been one of the many.

Blue eyes stared at her so long she began to squirm. He turned away and pulled something from the oven. A bird with the kind of dressing people in this part of the country called stuffing. “What do you blame me for," he asked and carried the bird to the table.

Nola took a seat at the spot facing the kitchen and Bronx took the head spot. “Honestly? I don’t blame for you for anything.”

She could tell she’d surprised him. “I’m sorry but I don’t believe that.”

She smiled around a bite of creamy mashed potatoes. “Okay. I don’t like how easily you dismissed me. Twice. But I don’t blame you because I knew how you were. If I blame anyone, it’s me.”

“So why are you so upset with me? You didn’t tell me about the baby.” That wasn’t a question.

“I’m upset because you fuck me and then you treat me like I don’t matter. You dismissed me after D.C. after flirting for six straight hours with Yvette. You said you didn’t give a damn what was wrong with me and threatened me for ‘hurting’ Brooks.” She took a few gulps of lemonade and sighed. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how you would react and I wanted some time to enjoy it before you ruined that.” He said nothing for a long time and she wondered if she’d offended him. It had been unintentional but if they stood a chance of navigating parenthood together they would have to be honest, above all else.

“Shit. I really am an asshole, aren’t I?” His tone didn’t sound offended, more like bemused and self-realized. “Were you going to tell me?”

Nola nodded because she had planned to tell him. “Not until I was further along and had a plan laid out, but yes. You deserve a chance to decide whether or not you want to be a father.”

“I do. Want to be a father, that is. And I want to help you through this pregnancy, Nola.” He sighed and she felt a strange energy between them that said she wouldn’t like what he had to say next. “That’s why I’d like you to consider moving in with me.”

“What? Are you crazy? Bronx, that would be a disaster.”

He frowned, chewing much longer than he really needed before he responded. “Would it? I like you and you like me, even if you don’t want to. I can help you and you can take it easy while you’re pregnant. Figure out what you want to do, if you plan to leave B&B.”

She heard the question he hadn’t asked—if she really planned to leave at the end of her two months. Nola didn’t have the answer yet. “We would do nothing but fuck and fight, Bronx.”

He tilted his head back and let out a long, hard laugh that she’d never heard from him. It sounded like joy. Happiness. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She gave him a serious look that only made him laugh harder. “Okay, fine. How about if I promise we’ll only fight about you trying to do things a pregnant woman shouldn’t do?”

“How about if I let you come to all the appointments and I call you if I need anything?” A lot could be said about Nola, but never that she wasn’t willing to compromise.

“Fine, Nola. I’ll move in here.”

“No,” she shook her head adamantly. “Absolutely not. We both need our space. Me to come to grips with being a single mom and you, to entertain your women.”

His expression turned serious as he leaned in, holding her chin so she couldn’t look away. “It’s a good thing then, that you’re the only woman I’m interested in right now, isn’t it?”

It was the ‘right now’ part giving her trouble.