Never Say Never: Gravel Hill Boys Book Two

38. Madison

Ianand I had reached some sort of détente.

I’d finally settled on a look for the guest room nearest my bedroom, which would become the nursery. And even though Gibby had insisted on her interior designer creating the baby’s room, Ian had his heart set on doing it, so I let him.

So while I sat on my overpriced, under-stuffed sofa binge-watching reality TV, Ian spent the past two weeks sawing, painting, and hammering. He had insisted that he could do the work to my exacting standards. It kept him busy, and if he screwed it up, there would be plenty of time to hire someone to fix it before December.

Besides, Liane should be home next week, and Ian would be on his way back to Savannah. And then me, my heart, and my raging hormones would be safe.

After numbing my brain on yet another Real Housewives episode, I turned off the television and stretched my legs. Sitting around all day was driving me batty. The only thing that kept me from going into the office was knowing that if I didn’t take care of myself now, I might end up spending the rest of this pregnancy on bedrest. And if three weeks was difficult, three months would be impossible. They’d have to sedate me.

Ian had gone out earlier to pick up something for the nursery, so I changed into a bathing suit, grabbed my Kindle and a towel, and figured I’d head up to the rooftop pool.

Wearing a red bikini with my small belly on display and my arms full, I stopped in front of the closed door to the nursery. Ian had forbade me from seeing it until it was finished, which was absurd. I’d given him a detailed plan and there shouldn’t be any surprises. The thought that he’d gone rogue caused my stomach to knot. I had a very specific, minimalist style, while he, on the other hand, lived like the reincarnation of Queen Victoria.

My hand rested on the doorknob while I warred with myself about turning it and taking a quick peek. It’s not like he would know.

I took a step back. He’d been excited about surprising me, and it would be wrong to ruin that for him.

Then again, it was my apartment. I didn’t need anyone’s permission. I could walk into any room I wanted.

I hesitated one more second. Then before I could talk myself out of it, I turned the knob, hoping to see the clean white interior I’d insisted upon; yet afraid to find dark walls, a horsehair-stuffed settee, heavy, carved furnishings, over-the-top drapery, and oriental carpets.

What I found was neither and it took my breath away.

Tall wainscoting covered three walls. It was painted a creamy white, while the walls above the wainscot were painted the softest shade of sage. The fourth wall had been wallpapered in a deeper sage covered with cream-colored bunnies, and birds, butterflies, and squirrels in soft pastels. It was busy, but beautiful, and nothing that I’d ever pick myself, yet I loved every tiny detail.

Against that wall, was the crib I’d ordered. White with simple, modern lines, that he’d softened with a creamy, sheer canopy with the fabric draped on either side of the crib. The mattress featured soft sage sheets and a barnyard of soft stuffies gathered in one corner, waiting for the next occupant.

My eyes filled and a tear spilled over. I didn’t even bother to wipe it away. I took a step inside, trying to take it all in as my gaze flitted from one unexpected thing after another. The sisal rug I’d ordered was in the center of the room. Next to the crib, he’d placed a white flokati rug that looked so soft and inviting, I kicked off my sandals and stepped onto it, sighing and wiggling my toes into the long, white threads. The upholstered rocking chair I’d ordered—bright white with clean, modern lines—had been replaced with an overstuffed club chair that rocked and swiveled in a soft shade of sage that matched the upper walls. Next to the rocker was an end table that looked like a wide, bleached tree trunk. Atop that sat a bunny lamp with a natural woven shade.

It was the most beautiful room I’d ever seen, created by the loving hands of my baby’s father. It was the best parts of me and Ian, and I couldn’t wait to curl up in that very chair and hold our sweet baby and tell her—or him—that her daddy had created this special place to welcome them home.

I was about to take the rocker for a spin when I heard the front door open.

“Oops.” I hurried out of the room and closed the door quietly, hoping Ian wouldn’t hear me and know I’d ruined his surprise.

“Mads?”

I rolled my eyes but had to admit I wasn’t as annoyed with the nickname as I usually was. Not after what I’d just seen.

Schooling my features, I slipped on my sandals and hugged the towel and my Kindle to my chest. “Be right there,” I called, heading down the steps. “I was getting ready to go up to the?—”

I froze at the sound coming from my living room.

“Shush,” Ian hissed. His voice was low, but there was nothing wrong with my hearing, especially when something barked in my home.

I hustled the rest of the way down the stairs and screeched to a halt. There, in my living room, stood a soon-to-be dead man wearing a stupid grin and a reddish-blonde beast with way too much hair.

“What is that?” I asked. I knew exactly what it was, but if Ian thought it would be okay to bring that thing into my home, then he was dumber than a box of rocks.

“Surprise!” he shouted, clearly not reading the room.

“I’m surprised all right. Get that thing out of here.”

The grin dimmed, but only slightly. “It’s a gift.”

“No thank you.” I pointed to the door. “Take it back to wherever it came from.”

His smile kept slipping. “It’s a gift, Mads. Ever hear the saying, ‘Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?’”

“I’ll do whatever I please, especially when it comes to things that make noise and shed. Take it back.”

“I can’t take it back.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Why, was it on clearance?” I huffed. “Take it back, Ian. I don’t want a dog. I’ve never wanted a dog.”

That wasn’t exactly true, but I was no longer ten years old and begging my parents for one of the puppies my friend’s French bulldog had sired. They said no, and I got over it. Pets were too much work. They smelled and needed to be walked and needed exercise and special food and they—I gasped.

They peed on the goddamn floor!

“Ian!” I pointed at the yellow puddle spreading across the white oak herringbone floor. “Make it stop!”

He looked down and grimaced. “Shit. No!”

“Don’t tell it to do that!”

“I wasn’t telling it to shit.” He glared at me. “I was cursing.” He held out the leash. “Here, hold this. I’ll go get some paper towels.”

I took a giant step back. “No way.”

“Fine, then you go get the paper towels and disinfectant.”

What I wanted to do was turn around and march back upstairs and stay there until he took that beast and left, but I also didn’t want him to walk through the living room and into the kitchen with that thing peeing or worse, pooping, its way across my floors.

I stormed into the kitchen, found the paper towels and cleaner under the sink, then hurried back to the foyer where I thrust both into Ian’s hands. The good will and gentle feelings I’d had moments ago upon seeing the nursery had disappeared, and my blood pressure had to have skyrocketed over the past few minutes.

“I was going to go up to the pool, but I think it best if I lie down until I am calm. When I get up, I expect the foyer to be disinfected and that thing gone.”

Ian folded his arms across his chest and spread his legs into a defiant stance. The dog, for its part, had the decency to look guilty.

“That thing has a name. This is Finn. It means small, blond soldier; an Irish warrior who was known for being wise, brave, and handsome, just like this little guy.”

“Since I assume that’s a puppy, it won’t be a little guy for long. Not that it matters. It’s going, going, gone, Ian. I mean it.”

“Too bad you don’t have any say. It’s not for you. It’s for the baby. And I say the baby can have a dog.”

I balled my hands into fists. “You have lost your flipping mind if you think I’m going to allow that smelly beast to live in my home?” Why did I allow this man to keep pushing my buttons? I mirrored his stance. “Even if I wanted a dog—which I don’t—who’s going to take care of it? Walk it? Clean up after it? I’m having a baby, Ian. Your baby!” I shook my head and paced. “Do you understand what the word consequence means? Or responsibility? Do you use that thing on your shoulders for more than growing hair?” A dull ache formed behind my eyes and I rubbed at my temples. “You are worse than that animal.”

“Really?” His words were ice cold. “I don’t remember ever peeing on your fancy white oak floor.”

I drew in a deep breath and held it until I could speak without screaming at him.

“Get rid of the dog, Ian. And while you’re at it, pack your things too. I don’t want you here anymore. I don’t need a babysitter. Especially one who does more harm than good.” I turned toward the stairs. “I’m going to lie down. When I get up, I expect you and your friend to be long gone.”

“Maddie, c’mon. I’m sorry. We can work something?—”

“No, we can’t. Just go. Please.”

“Mads,” he called plaintively.

“No, and don’t call me that. We’re not friends. We’re nothing.”

I made it up the stairs and across the upper landing before the first tear fell. The bedroom door closed. I flipped the lock since Ian couldn’t take no for an answer, and then slid to the floor.

Sure enough, a knock sounded a few seconds later.

“Please, Madison,” he begged. “Talk to me.”

I thumped the back of my head against the door. The vibrations shot like tentacles, gripping my skull and squeezing until it felt as if my head might explode. And yet, it was hardly noticeable, considering it was my heart that was hurting far more than my head.

“Madison, please. I don’t want to leave you. Let me figure something out.”

Hot tears filled my eyes. “No. I’m done with this arrangement.”

“But the baby…”

Obviously, he wanted to be involved—I thought of that gorgeous nursery, the one I’d been so excited to find and couldn’t wait to thank him for. It would be wrong to shut him out, but that didn’t mean he needed to live here with me.

I unlocked the door and pulled it open to find a contrite-looking Ian leaning against the doorframe.

I peeked into the hall. “Where’s the dog.”

He straightened to his full height. I was so close that I had to tilt my head back to see his face. “I tied his leash to the front door knob.”

I pictured everything in the entry that could get broken but tried to focus on the situation in front of me instead. The very tall, very sexy, very frustrating situation.

“Ian.” I struggled to gather my thoughts. “This isn’t working. I don’t want a dog, and I don’t need the added stress. I see Dr. Abernathy next week, and I’m hoping I’ll get the go-ahead to go back to work. In the meantime, I promise I’ll rest and take care of myself. I don’t need you to stay. I don’t need anyone to stay with me, so please don’t take it personally. If you still want to accompany me to my doctor visits, you’re welcome to meet me there.”

“But Mads?—”

“If you’re really concerned about my blood pressure and well-being, I beg you to do as I ask.” I took a step back, my hand on the door, ready to close it. “I’ll see you a week from Tuesday at Dr. Abernathy’s if you choose to go. Otherwise, I’ll keep you apprised of my condition.”

The look on his face was nothing short of heartbreaking. I closed the door, flipped the lock again, and then carefully threw myself on the bed before those hot tears could spill over. I burrowed under the covers and muffled my sobs into my pillow.

There was a reason I’d always kept my heart hidden away.