Chapter Fourteen
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Grant woke to a thudding headache and a carpeted tongue. Although he’d heard people moan about hangovers, he’d never actually experienced one. Why would anyone voluntarily put themselves through this?
And who knew beer had that kind of kick?
He opened one eye, peered at the ceiling, and groaned as his stomach dangerously churned. I hope this bedroom has a bathroom attached. Turning his head, he forgot about how he felt when he saw Viviana asleep in a chair a few feet away. I’m not in a bed, am I? I’m on a couch.
With Viviana?
Her eyes opened. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he croaked. “Are we still at your dad’s?”
“No, we’re at my place. You got wrecked last night so I brought you here.”
He looked down and saw that outside of his shoes, he was still fully dressed. “Sorry. I don’t usually drink and when I do it’s one or two. I guess I had five too many. I don’t remember a lot of last night. That’s never happened to me before.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry.” She pushed a stray curl out of her face and grimaced. “My brothers thought it would be funny to introduce you to homemade grain alcohol.”
“The beer was spiked?” He remembered thinking the beer had more of a punch to it than he’d expected. Now the experience made sense. He was accustomed to being able to anticipate the actions of most people, but the Suttons were like dealing with feral cats. He only knew about cats because he’d once dated a woman who rescued them. Domesticated cats preened and purred. Feral cats were unpredictable and made walking by something as innocent looking as a couch potentially dangerous for the ankles.
I always kind of preferred the latter. It kept things interesting.
Grant pushed himself up to a seated position. Only then did he realize how closely Viviana was watching him. He might have been able to guess what she wanted from him if he wasn’t concentrating so hard on not throwing up. “Where’s the bathroom?” he asked as he rose to his feet.
“It’s the door on the left,” she said. “My father dropped off your bag this morning. It’s in the bathroom.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, made his way to the bathroom, closed the door behind him, and groaned when he met his bloodshot eyes in the mirror. God, I look exactly how I feel. Lovely.
A short time later, after a long hot shower, a shave, and a couple of Tylenol, Grant began to feel human again. His nose was still slightly out of shape, but most of the swelling was gone. Those Suttons are kicking my ass. He was smiling when he opened the door and walked out of the bathroom.
His smile froze on his face at the sight of Viviana at the stove in jean shorts that barely covered her perfect little ass and a simple light blue tank top. She turned as she sensed his approach. “I’m making breakfast. Do you think you’ll be able to keep it down?”
His cock surged to attention. Apparently not. “I’ll try,” he said and mentally added to not suggest we skip breakfast and feed a more urgent hunger.
How was it possible for a woman to be more beautiful each time he saw her? No makeup. No accessories. She was perfect just the way she was, with her hair swept casually up in a loose bun and her long, tan legs bare.
“Take a seat. It’s almost ready.”
He sat at her kitchen table. The dishes didn’t match, but they were filled with an assortment of breads and pastries. He took a sip of the orange juice she’d already placed on the table. Unlike his cock, his stomach was less certain it should partake that morning. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
“I didn’t. My brothers came by. They brought the Danishes and bagels. You were still sleeping, so I told them to come back later. They know they owe you an apology.”
It was slightly mortifying to imagine her family coming and going while he was passed out on the couch, but he pushed that unappealing thought back. The only one he was upset with was himself for not being able to remember more of the night before. “I’m fine. They didn’t force the drinks down me. I could have stopped at one or said no altogether.”
“But you didn’t know—”
He took another swig of orange juice and met her eyes. “Viv, just tell me I didn’t make a complete ass of myself last night.”
Her eyes rounded. “You’re worried about how you behaved?”
“I can’t believe I didn’t suspect anything. I usually see a prank coming a mile away. I’m happy to admit I underestimated Dylan and Connor. They got me good.”
Tears filled her eyes, and he almost knocked over the table rising to his feet. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re not angry.”
He sat back down only because he was still feeling a little queasy. Hoping to cheer her up, he winked. “I do have three brothers. It’s not my first rodeo, sweetheart.”
The sweet smile she gave him was cut short by her swearing like a sailor when she realized the eggs were beginning to burn. He laughed because she was a joy on every level. Like the beer her brothers had served him, being with her packed the kind of punch no man could prepare for. All he could do was hang on and hope the ride didn’t end.
Memories were slowly returning to him. He said, “Some of last night is hazy, but I do remember you announcing that I’m important to you.”
She blushed as she placed a heaping plate of scrambled eggs in front of him then sat down with her own. “Do you remember telling my family you love them?”
He groaned. “No, I forgot that part.”
She smiled again. “I don’t think my brothers will threaten to kill you again. This morning they said they’d love to take you fishing.”
“With or without a cement block tied around my ankles?” Grant joked.
She chuckled. “I didn’t ask, but good point. I’ll go with you if you accept.”
“Oh, I accept. You’ll just have to show me how to out-fish them. I’m assuming there are tricks to doing it well.”
“Have you ever been fishing?”
“Deep sea, yes. Once. A client of mine took me out to thank me for reorganizing his investment portfolio. I caught a 52-pound white sea bass, but I released it because it really was a striking fish. I eat fish, but I don’t usually look them in the eye before I do. That one knew it, too. He gave me a good long stare that guilted me right into returning him to the water.” Viviana laughed, and the happier she looked the better Grant felt.
“Connor releases them as well. Dylan teases him mercilessly about it. Once, Connor went so far as to release all their catches then buy some fillets on the way home so we could have fish for dinner. He’ll be glad to have another man on his side.”
“And you?” He guessed at what her answer would be, but honestly, he wasn’t sure until she confirmed it.
“I catch and release. Same reason as you. I’m okay with eating animals as long as I don’t meet them first.”
“Hypocrites, both of us.”
“Yep.” She held out a plate. “Bacon?”
He took a few slices of bacon and bit into one before adding, “Our child will probably be no better.”
She froze halfway through sipping from a glass of water and started choking. When she was able to speak again, she whispered, “Our child.”
He wondered if she’d said it that way because she felt as he did. Before the baby he wanted to be with her. Now, however, there was more riding on how this turned out. It was a pressure that hadn’t been part of his previous relationships. He didn’t consider the existence of that element good nor bad—it simply was.
He didn’t share that thought, though. He was still choosing his words carefully. They were in the unique position of having their lives intimately intertwined before really knowing each other. Until that changed it was anyone’s guess what the future held. “Are you hoping for a girl or a boy?” he asked.
“I’d settle for healthy,” she answered without hesitation.
The fact that he would have answered his question exactly the same way brought a huge smile to his face. On the surface they could not have been more different, but in all the ways that mattered they meshed. It wasn’t impossible to imagine co-parenting their child.
A knock on the door announced the arrival of her family. “Hang on,” Grant called out. He finished his juice in one gulp, rose to his feet, and cracked his knuckles.
On impulse, he took Viviana by the hand and spun her in a dance move that ended with her bent over his arm in a dip his dance instructors would have applauded. While her mouth was still rounded with surprise he kissed her deeply.
He let that say what he wasn’t ready to: She was his and he wasn’t going anywhere.
When he released her, she looked up at him with that look again—the one that made his heart pound and his blood rush southward. “Although now I need another minute or I’m going to look really excited to see them.”
Viviana laughed, a deep hearty laugh that was followed by another bang on the door. “That would be bad.”
Grant imagined that scene and the problem resolved itself.
That night, after a morning of fishing, an afternoon of touring her small hometown, and a sober dinner with her family, Grant and Viviana sat side by side on the steps of her father’s house. It had been a day filled with easy laughter that had exceeded how she’d hoped Grant and her family would get along. The wonderful part was she knew it was real, her brothers would never pretend to like someone they didn’t—not even for her, not even because their father told them to.
Getting to know Grant in this setting was confusing. On one hand, being with him was exciting and every look they exchanged left her glowing. On the other hand, dating while pregnant was scary as all hell. What were the rules? The pitfalls? Did she dare allow herself to imagine a traditional family unit could sprout from something that had started in a juice bar storage room?
“Are you sure you want to stay here? You could sleep on my couch again.” What had seemed like an innocent suggestion came out sounding like a husky suggestion.
He flexed his shoulders and expelled a breath like a man mentally preparing himself to run a marathon. “For now, this is where I belong. It matters to your father.”
“We’re adults—”
He turned toward her. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t care what your father thinks of me—of us.”
She didn’t even attempt that lie. “I do.” She sighed. “I guess I don’t know how to navigate this. What are we doing?”
He tucked her to him and kissed the top of her head. “I’m wading through an intense period of sexual frustration and determining our compatibility while facilitating a positive relationship with people I hope become my family.”
“Wow, that’s one way to describe it.”
“What are you doing?”
Trying not to fuck you again and figuring out if a future with you is possible while hoping my family doesn’t kill you. “Same as you.”
He gave her a lusty grin. “Even the wading part?”
“I should say no, but, yes, even that.” She slapped his shoulder playfully.
He tipped her face toward his and looked down into her eyes for a long moment. “I want you to know that when I lied to you about my last name I didn’t think it would matter. I didn’t think you’d matter.”
Okay. Breathe. Remember he doesn’t know how to phrase things well. “Should I be insulted?”
“Not at all. I’m explaining that I don’t feel that way anymore. I’m saying what you said last night. You’re important to me.”
She caressed his cheek while gauging his level of seriousness. Yep, he was one hundred percent not joking. He really does need to get out of his office more and spend time with people. “If you had left off the first part I probably would have thrown my arms around your neck, kissed you senseless, and thought it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to me.”
He frowned. “Which part should I have left off? About your family?”
She smiled and shook her head. “After that.”
“About how you’re important to me?” He looked confused.
She gave up, laughed, and kissed him. She’d dated men who said all the right things but didn’t have half the integrity Grant did. Actions were what made a man. “Don’t worry about it.”
He deepened the kiss then raised his head with a smile. “You’re good for me, do you know that?”
A warmth spread through her, leaving her head-to-toe happy. Taking a page from his book, she said, “I’m still deciding if you’re the best thing to ever happen to me or my biggest mistake.”
“Ouch,” he said with a less bright smile.
She searched his face. Despite what he’d said up to this point, she needed to ask a question that kept returning to her. “Would you be here if I weren’t pregnant?”
He ran gentle fingers through her hair. “Would you be with me if I weren’t wealthy?”
His question floored her. “Of course I would be.”
“I don’t know if you knew who I was before our first meeting. I don’t know if your pregnancy was an accident or strategic. If I needed you to prove your innocence, could you?”
She quickly thought of a variety of possible things she could say, but realized as she did that all would end with him having to accept her word as truth. “No, I guess I couldn’t.”
He traced one side of her neck. “Then the choice that lies before both of us is one of trust. I’m here with you because I want to be. If you weren’t pregnant, I would still be here. You can believe me or not. There is no magic wand I can wave that will remove your doubts if you decide to hold onto them.”
Had another man said the last part it might have sounded cold. The more Viviana got to know Grant the more she saw that he detached and leaned heavily on logic when things became too emotional for him. Rather than raise his voice and rant, she could imagine him organizing his point of view and hers on a spreadsheet then going over each like talking points in a meeting.
Part of her wanted to shake him and say that especially on these big life issues it was okay to be confused. Part of her wanted to hug him and ask him what had taught him to withdraw and rationalize rather than feel.
They sat there quietly for several minutes as she thought about how quickly he had become part of her life. I said yes to dating him, but simply spending time with him isn’t enough, is it, if I continue to doubt him? My fears are justifiable, but he’s right—it’s my choice to hold onto them or not.
If he asked me if I’m with him for his money he must have asked himself that same question. To be honest, if I were him, those would be legitimate concerns. I did go after him. Yes, it takes two to do what we did, but a woman who wanted a rich husband might have orchestrated something like that.
And yet he is here.
Viviana said, “I called my doctor for a referral to an obstetrician. I have an appointment on Friday afternoon at two. My doctor said they’ll probably do a sonogram to determine how far along I am. Would you like to come with me?”
His answer was a deep, soul shattering kiss that left her wishing they were anywhere but on her father’s steps. When he ended the kiss he growled softly, “It’s a date.”
Could a doctor’s visit be called one? Viviana’s heart fluttered nervously. So far our dates haven’t exactly been conventional, so why not? “I’ll text you the information.”
He nodded. “I had planned on coming back Friday night, but I’ll wrap things up early.” He kissed her lips softly. “I don’t want to go, but I have meetings tomorrow on matters I’ve put off recently.”
“I understand.”
“I’d also like to look at the local real estate. Your apartment is nice, but I’d like our child to have a backyard to play in.”
Our child. Those words never failed to send her mind scrambling to make sense of how her life had forever changed. “You don’t have to—”
“I will provide for my child. That is non-negotiable,” he said with surprising steel in his voice.
Although the opposite reaction would have sickened her, she still had to ask, “And if I said no?”
The steady look he gave her sent a shiver down her spine. It brought back to mind what her father had said about Grant probably not needing a course in how to defend himself. Grant might have been patient and forgiving so far, but who was he when he wasn’t? If a man with his resources turned vindictive how could she possibly protect her family from him?
“Why would you?” he finally asked.
She swallowed hard. “We may not always agree on how to raise this child. What happens then?”
“I’m sure I could bring you around to seeing reason.”
She gurgled on a laugh, then realized he was serious and pulled back from him. “Or I could kick some of that arrogance out of your ass, and we could discuss it like two normal, average, ordinary parents.”
“I’m not a high school boy. You don’t scare me. In fact, I might enjoy that exchange.” The smirk on his face told her exactly where his thoughts had gone. “And I can assure you there would be nothing average or ordinary about it.”
She didn’t want to laugh because it was a serious topic, but she couldn’t help herself. “Or normal.”
“Says the woman who still scares half the men in this town.”
“Are you done?”
He shrugged, still looking far too pleased with himself. “I could be.” He looked for a second as if he were waiting to see if another zinger would come to him. “Yes. That’s it.”
Okay, let him chew on this. “There is a house in town I’m interested in.”
“Fantastic. Send me the information.”
“It’s three blocks from here.”
“Okay.”
“As in my family could walk to it.”
He met her eyes without blinking. “I’m assuming the doors will have locks. Does it have a big yard? Are any homes for sale near it? We could clear an adjoining lot for a playground.”
“Sure we won’t need the whole block?” she suggested sarcastically.
“Would you want that much room?”
She shook her head. The way he spoke about large financial projects as if they were nothing brought home the reality of how wealthy he was. Am I wrong to imagine he sees me as his equal? “Sometimes you scare me.”
“Because you don’t know what I’ll do next?”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
She added, “It’s not a good thing.”
His smile widened. “No? On this we’ll have to agree to disagree.” He had that pleased with himself expression on his face again so she let the topic drop. It would have been endearing if it weren’t so vital to figure him out.