Never Say Never: Gravel Hill Boys Book Two

34. Madison

Ian broughtme back to my apartment and waited while I changed into a comfy pair of pajamas and settled in on the sofa. He handed me my laptop with the warning that it was only temporary since I needed to set things up at the office, but promised that later, he’d be taking it from me.

I’d been about to tell him that would happen over my dead body, but with the doctor’s warning fresh in my mind, I feared that such a declaration might be tempting fate, so I held my tongue.

He made me a cup of ginger tea and then left to run some errands, which included heading down to the Italian market to pick up the chocolate-covered cherries I’d been craving and some sharp provolone. He made a face, so I planned to eat it in front of him.

The first hour he was gone was spent on a Zoom call with my staff, delegating and rescheduling.

“I don’t understand,” Samantha said. “I can’t call you at all…for three weeks?”

My thumb tapped repeatedly on the keyboard while I pressed my lips together and mulled over what I might be able to get away with. “Only if it’s something that you or Jesse can’t handle and you can’t get hold of Liane. I’ll be calling her when we hang up and letting her know what’s going on. Hopefully, she be able to wrap up that mess in London quickly and get back home.”

“Okay,” she said, not sounding terribly certain. I took a deep breath and tried not to let her lack of confidence stress me out.

“You got this, Sam. I have faith that you and Jesse will keep everything running smoothly—” I prayed, “and that once Liane gets back, you’ll hardly even notice that I’m not there.”

She frowned at me from the screen on my laptop but nodded. Did I want everything to run smoothly? Of course. Did I want them to not notice I wasn’t there? Of course not. It was my company, my baby. Or it was until I had another baby to worry about.

After we hung up, I punched the pillows on the sofa, trying to get comfortable while getting out some pent-up frustration. Ian would be back soon, and then what? How was this going to go? We had nothing in common.

This would never work. I grabbed my phone and tapped the screen, pulling up my mother’s number. I hit dial. It rang a few times before going to voicemail, and I heard my mother’s heavily accented voice.

“You have reached Tatiana Peillard. I’m currently on a quête de soi and will be unavailable until the fifth of September. Leave a message if you must, but I won’t have access to my phone until after my journey ends. On ne voit bien qu’avec le coeur.”

Fuck my life. I loved my mother, but I’d never met anyone more self-centered. Knowing I was pregnant, she’d not only gone on another of her journeys of self-discovery, but she’d also made herself unavailable. To top it off, she ends her message by quoting The Little Prince about how we only see well with the heart. Sometimes I wondered if when it came to me, she even had a heart.

Gibby was in Morocco and unavailable. I had one other choice.

My finger hovered over my father’s name. While I couldn’t imagine him stationing himself in my guest room for the next three weeks, he might surprise me.

With a shaky breath, I hit the dial button. It rang and rang. I was about to hang up before it went to voicemail, but then he answered.

“Yes, hello?” He sounded winded and annoyed.

“Daddy? Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Yes, you have. We were just walking in to dinner. Can I call you tomorrow?”

“I…um…was hoping to talk to you now.”

“It really isn’t a good time, darling. My guests are waiting.”

“You’re entertaining.”

“Darling, I’ll call you tomorrow morning. First thing. I promise.”

“Wait,” I blurted. “I need you.” I hated how small and weak I sounded.

It was quiet on the other end, and for a moment, I thought he’d hung up.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

I anticipated concern, although despite nearly four-thousand miles between us, irritation was the strongest emotion.

“My blood pressure is a little high so my obstetrician put me on bedrest for the next three weeks”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re an Enright. We thrive on pressure.”

“I need to cut back on my stress.”

“Stress?” he laughed. “What stress? You’re a glorified babysitter. Grab a ruler, slap some of those overpaid glory hounds on the knuckles and take a nap.”

This wasn’t going at all how I’d hoped. “I was thinking that maybe you could come and visit; stay with me for a bit. Maybe until I’m feeling better.”

Silence.

“Where’s your mother?”

“Incommunicado until September.”

He snorted. “Figures.”

“What about your grandmother?”

“Morocco.”

“If you need someone to stay with you, hire a nurse or something and send me the bill.”

“I don’t need a nurse, Daddy. I was just hoping that you could come and?—”

“That’s just not possible. Besides, I’m at the villa in Lake Como this week. You know how it is. Listen, Madison, I’ve got to go. I don’t want to be rude to my guests.”

“But, Daddy?—”

“Darling, you’re a big girl. You’ll figure it out. We’ll talk soon.”

I stared at the phone for a long while after the call ended. When I heard the key Liane had given Ian in the lock, I brushed the tears off my face and tossed the phone at my feet. I lay down, my face to the back of the sofa, and pretended to be asleep.

Ian padded quietly over to the sofa and then back to the foyer, where I assumed he was unloading his belongings and whatever else he’d picked up on his errands. And while he was careful not to make any noise, just knowing someone was in my space made it impossible to relax. He drew closer. I squeezed my eyes tightly, despite facing away from him and heard him set something on the coffee table alongside me. Within moments, the scent of stargazer lilies surrounded me, and I inhaled deeply. I looked over my shoulder and saw him fiddling with a huge bouquet, rearranging the flowers until they sat in the vase just so.

I rolled onto my back. “Learned that from your grandmother, did you?”

He looked down at me and grinned. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

I shimmied until I was sitting up and nodded toward the bouquet. “What’s with the flowers?”

“Just something to cheer you up. Liane called and asked how we made out at the doctor’s office.I asked her what your favorite flowers were and she told me stargazer lilies, so, there you go. I also got your stinky cheese and your chocolate-covered cherries.” He pulled a face like he was about to gag. “I don’t care if you’re pregnant, you’re not eating them at the same time.”

I hadn’t planned on eating them at the same time, but now that he mentioned it, the combination was appealing. Sweet and salty? What’s not to love?

I shot him a smirk. “We’ll just have to see about that.”

Continuing to surprise me with his actions, he pulled a takeout container from a paper sack. “Since you hadn’t eaten yet, I got you an acai bowl from the place down the block. I had them add more berries, nuts, and some of their homemade granola; food that could help with your hypertension.” He set the colorful combination down in front of me.

The aroma of red, ripe raspberries and fat, juicy blueberries made my mouth water.

“Are you a doctor now?” I couldn’t help it; when it came to Ian, sarcasm was my first language. It was also a way to protect myself. Ian Donohue was not someone I could allow in. He would only hurt me and I had more than enough of that in my life already. Besides, he didn’t care about me, per se; his main concern was the baby.

Ignoring my snark, he returned to the kitchen and began unloading the bags he’d brought up with him.

“I’ve just been reading is all,” he called from the other room. “Personally, I’d rather not see you go on medication to control your blood pressure. There are foods that help, like those berries and the acai powder, sweet potatoes, avocadoes. Essential fatty acids have been clinically proven to lower blood pressure.”

The sweet, creamy blend of healthful ingredients I’d just scooped into my mouth melted onto my tongue while I pondered the man in my kitchen. This wasn’t the Ian Donohue who’d swept me off my feet a few months ago at JG Skyhigh and whose supersperm got me pregnant despite the use of condoms. This wasn’t even the man who I’d visited in Savannah who took care of my needs like a good host, but made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with me or our child going forward. Something had changed him into a combination of Dr. Spock and some father figure from a fifties’ television show, if you were to overlook the two-hundred-dollar haircut, tattoos, and all that arm porn he kept flashing around.

I swallowed. “I like sweet potatoes.” Good one, Madison. Ian was turning into some pregnancy savant while I suffered from pregnancy brain.

I crunched on more of the yummy granola in my acai bowl and pondered a nap—a real one this time. At the very least, I could get some distance from the too-sexy man who was scrambling my brain and making me wonder when I’d developed an attraction to forearms, tattoos, and tight T-shirts.