Chapter 8

DAKOTA

THE SUN had long passed the horizon by the time I arrived home. Sam stayed late at the office, engaged in several grueling phone calls to a new German client. Although his office adjoined mine, I rarely saw him. While I maintained the home office, he spent the majority of his time traveling, meeting with potential clients, and dealing with his other companies. His business interests ran the gamut from investments to acquisitions, mostly property and land development. We made a good team, our strengths complementing each other’s weaknesses. Although, Sam’s greatest strength was also his only weakness—an insatiable drive for success.

I ordered Chinese takeout, changed into my sexiest lingerie, and waited for his arrival. To celebrate our good news, I lit two candles on the dining room table and dimmed the lights. At ten o’clock, I heard a knock at the door. Thinking Sam had misplaced his key, I flung open the door to find Crockett in the hallway, suitcase in hand.

“Crap,” I said. He had a terrific knack for turning up at the most inopportune times.

“Thanks. Love you, too.” He frowned. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Um, well, yes.” We stared at each other. I crossed my arms over my chest. I’d offered to let him spend the night so he wouldn’t have to make the early morning commute to a job interview.

“What’s with all the paparazzi on the sidewalk? And the beast in the hallway?”

“You mean Chandler? He’s my bodyguard.”

“Does he sleep out there?”

“No. At least I don’t think so.” He’d been with me since six in the morning. I popped my head outside the door. “Chandler? Do you want to come in?”

He was leaning against the wall, his face couched in shadow. At the sound of my voice, he straightened. “No, ma’am. I’m fine.”

“You’re not staying out there all night, are you?”

“Just until your husband gets here.” He stared at a point down the hall, cheeks the color of ripe tomatoes.

“Okay.”

Crockett smirked. “I had to show my driver’s license to get past him. What happened? Is Sam in the news?”

“No, it’s Maxwell. He’s involved in some kind of controversy.”

 “What a tool.” He rolled his eyes then shifted topics, unconcerned with Maxwell. “Do you think you could, um, cover up? I mean, seriously. I don’t want to see that. What are you trying to do, scar me for life?”

“Sorry.” I pulled the edges of my robe together then edged aside to let him enter. No wonder Chandler had been embarrassed. The sheer nightie barely topped my thighs. How could I look him in the eye tomorrow? To distract myself, I focused on Crockett. “You look great.” 

“Thanks.” A sheepish smile curled his lips. His shaggy hair had been cut short on the sides, but the top was still long and wavy, the same rich brown color as my own. It hovered over his left eye, giving him an edgy, modern vibe. He dropped his suitcase near the breakfast bar and sniffed the air. “Yum. Chinese. Can I have some?” He made a beeline for the dining room table. 

The floorboards creaked beneath my feet as I blocked his path. “No, you can’t. That’s for Sam. There are frozen dinners in the fridge. You can nuke one of those.”

“Fine.” He headed into the kitchen and began banging through the cabinets until he found a bag of potato chips. “What’s the deal? Is this your anniversary or something?”

“Or something,” I replied.

“Mom said you’re knocked up. Are you?”

“Crockett!” I punched him in the arm, hard enough to make him grunt.

“Well, are you?” With the potato chips in one hand, he opened the freezer of the refrigerator and nudged through the variety of frozen dinners until he found one he liked.

“Alright. Yes.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“You should be glad Sam’s a decent-looking guy.” He grinned and bumped my shoulder. “At least the poor kid has half a chance.”

“You’re such a dick.” In spite of my best efforts to look stern, a smile cracked through the façade.

“You can’t talk to me like that anymore. I’m going to be an uncle.” He beamed back at me, his sullen features transformed by the excitement in his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess you are.”

“I can’t wait. I’m going to teach him all the important things in life.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like how to skip rocks on the river, how to catch frogs, and—most important—how to piss you off.”

“And if it’s a girl?”

“Same difference.” He rummaged through the contents of the refrigerator. “No beer?”

“I haven’t been to the grocery in a while. Sam will probably bring some home.” Crockett’s genuine happiness at having a niece or nephew brought the sting of tears to my eyes. “You’ll be a good uncle.”

“Damn straight I will.” He winked and waggled his eyebrows. “Where is Sammy, anyway?”

“At work. He should be here any time.”

“You guys aren’t going to go at it while I’m here, are you? Because the walls are paper thin. I’ll go to a hotel before I listen to that one more time.” His straight nose wrinkled into a scowl.

 “Bite me,” I replied, ignoring the flame of embarrassment in my cheeks. Oh, my God. Little brothers were insufferable. Even though we were both adults, we reverted to children when we were together. “If you don’t like it, get a place of your own.”

“I wish. Do you know how much I hate living with Mom? She and Rockwell are almost as bad as you and Sam. A guy should never have to watch his mother make out with a dude, even someone cool like Rockwell.” A full-body shiver wracked his lanky frame. “Talk about irreparable psychological damage.”

“They make out?” I asked, fascinated and repulsed at the same time.

“Yeah. It’s disgusting. I walked in on them kissing in the kitchen yesterday morning. I think he spent the night. They tried to play it off like he was just stopping by for breakfast, but I don’t think so. His shoes were in the hall closet.” As he spoke, he peeled the plastic from a tray of roast chicken with vegetables and sniffed the contents dubiously. “Maybe you should think about getting a bigger place. Aren’t you guys gazillionaires?”

“We’re not gazillionaires.” In truth, I had no idea of Sam’s actual worth. He kept his financial matters closely guarded. It didn’t matter to me whether he had ten dollars or ten million, but the mystery piqued my curiosity.

“Either way, I don’t know why you’re hanging on to this shitty-ass apartment when you could be living like a queen on the upper north side.” The microwave dinged. He removed the tray, dumped the contents onto a plate, and headed toward the couch. “You could live in one of those gated communities. You know, the kind with a guesthouse for guests.”

“Or younger brothers?”

“Exactly,” he replied, through a mouthful of food.

While he shoveled down his meal, I returned to the bedroom and changed into a pair of sweats and an oversized T-shirt. Crockett, in his annoying manner, had raised a valid point. Despite my best efforts, the apartment was small and shabby. I’d been so preoccupied with work and Sam that I hadn’t paid attention to making a home. Those details hadn’t seemed important, but now—with a baby on the way—my priorities shifted.

As I stood pondering our tiny bedroom, the door opened, and Sam walked in. Dark circles smudged beneath his eyes. One corner of his mouth lifted in a tired smile. I forgot to care about furniture placement and square footage. The only thing that mattered was him.

“Hey, baby,” I said, and beamed at him.

He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over the footboard of the bed. “What’s with Crockett?”

“He’s got an interview at seven AM. He asked to stay over so he wouldn’t have to get up so early.” I unloosened the knot of Sam’s tie and tossed it aside, then smoothed my hands along his chest. He was warm and solid under my palms. My rock.

“Good for him. Let’s hope this one works out.” One of his arms stole around my waist. He tugged me to him, pressing my torso flat against a wall of hard pectorals and abs. “I offered to get him on at one of our construction sites, but he said no.”

“He wants to do it on his own,” I replied. “You’ve got to respect him for that. He’s been working really hard.”

“I do. And the sooner he gets a job, the sooner he gets off our sofa.”

“I can hear you,” Crockett shouted from the living room.

“Sorry,” Sam and I replied in unison.

“About that—” I bit my lower lip, wondering how best to approach the subject.

“We need a bigger place.” His elbow hit the dresser with a resounding smack as he moved to unbuckle his belt. “This one’s too small. I know you want to keep things real, but seriously, Kota. I can’t even turn around without knocking something over.” He scowled and rubbed his arm. “It’s ridiculous. We can afford a better home, one with tighter security and a good location. With the baby coming, we’ve got to do something.”

“Yes.” I exhaled in relief. “I agree.”

“You do?” By the way his eyebrows lifted, he’d been expecting opposition. We’d had this discussion before, and it never ended well. The mattress dipped beneath his weight when he sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his trousers. “Thank God, because I can’t take it anymore.”

“Is it really that bad?” I glanced around the cramped room, seeing it through his eyes. He’d grown up in a luxurious mansion with a dozen bedrooms, sprawled over several hundred acres. My apartment could fit inside his parents’ walk-in closet. “I thought you loved living like an average Joe.”

“Correction. I love living with you. But this apartment? Not so much.” He leaned in and dropped a kiss on the tip of my nose. “We can afford to live anywhere you want.”

“I’ll talk to V tomorrow. Maybe she has some ideas.” As an interior designer, Venetia had a vast network of contacts in real estate. “There’s Chinese takeout on the table.”

“I’m too tired.” He scrubbed a hand across his eyes, his palm rasping on the stubble of his beard.

“It’s okay.” I peeled back the bedcovers and slid between the sheets. 

“What about the food?” Sam stripped down to his boxers and followed me.

“I’ll get it,” Crocket said, his voice clearly audible through the closed door.

“Thanks,” I said. With my cheek pressed against Sam’s chest, I savored the warmth of his body next to mine. He tugged me closer.

“Did you make an appointment with the doctor?”

“Yes. I’m going on Friday.”

“Excellent.” Beneath my ear, his breathing began to slow, and I heard the steady beat of his heart. I toyed with the dark blond hairs covering his sternum. These were the moments I treasured most, just the two of us, in the dark, together. “Let Xavier know the time. I’ll go with you.”

“Okay.” We fell silent for a moment. “Did you talk to your father today?” He didn’t answer, because he was already asleep.