Sweet Something (Wood Hollow Stories #2)

1. Dexter

DEXTER

“It’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness.”—Chuck Palahniuk, Diary

Eighteen years ago

I could barely hear myself think above the symphony of cheers, chants, and band music.

I wasn’t worried, though. We had this one nailed.

It was our ball and if I could get it to Serrano, we’d pull away for sure.

The Wolverines were always tough, but we’d spotted a few holes in their defense and had happily taken advantage.

“Listen up!” Coach yelled, tapping his clipboard as the offense gathered around him.

I guzzled water, grunting along with my teammates while I scanned the crowd.

My whole family was here today—even my dad.

That was kinda awesome. He was jazzed about the contract my agent had been bragging about.

I mean…yeah, the dream had always been to go pro.

It was wild to think it could happen so soon.

This time next year, I could be at Ford Field.

Probably sitting on the bench, but so what?

“Watch out for number 22. He’s got fresh legs, and I’ve seen this dude play. He’s a freaking beast.” Troy sidled close, interrupting my daydream.

I rolled my eyes. “We got this, man.”

Coach rattled off the play, which was a simple, “Throw the ball to Serrano,” and added a rousing, “Let’s fuckin’ do it!”

We were pumped up, ready for action.

All thoughts of family, future glory, or even getting laid that night were shoved firmly aside as the whistle blew and our center snapped the ball to me.

I stayed in the pocket and scanned for Serrano.

The guy could run like the wind, but he was kinda short and I couldn’t see him over the throng of giants in the way.

My line wasn’t going to hold for long, I had to move… fast.

I twisted to my right, avoiding getting swiped by a tackle, and yes…there he was. Serrano waved wildly at the five-yard line, totally open. Easy money, baby.

I cocked my arm, prepared to launch the ball to the end zone. My elbow was high, my feet were planted, and then—

Boom!

Nothing.

Darkness.

Complete shutdown.

Later, I’d tell everyone that I didn’t come to until I was in the hospital, but the truth was that for a fleeting moment, I’d been half conscious.

I willed myself to get up, shake it off. I willed my eyes to open, but couldn’t do it. Panic was setting in and I was going under…fast. Everyone was here, rooting for me, counting on me.

My last thought was… I’m fucked. There goes the dream.

Now

Sunlight streamed through the rain-streaked windows, sending a prism across the battered wood table for two.

The rainbow hues softened the edges of the manic mood college students carried with them into the campus coffee shop.

Their idle chatter buzzed under the hum of alternative music and the hiss of the industrial coffeemaker.

The cacophony was soothing in its own way, and on the plus side, it nearly drowned out the woman at a nearby table engaged in a lively conversation on her phone. Something about wanting to sell her ex’s crappy-ass guitar.

“Do you think I could get a hundred bucks for it? Oh, no. He owes me, honey. eBay, here I come!”

I tuned her out and scanned the parking lot as I sipped my latte.

A young mother shook out her umbrella while her two small children splashed in a puddle with gleeful abandon.

Their shoes were toast, but Mom didn’t seem concerned.

A couple stood in front of a beat-up truck, their arms around each other.

An old man shuffled along the sidewalk, his head bent, the belt of his raincoat dragging behind him.

The little vignettes of life playing out in real time made me smile.

Or maybe it was finally glimpsing the sun after days of rain.

And yeah, I couldn’t help thinking, hoping it was symbolic of something positive on the horizon.

I wanted to roll my eyes at the fanciful notion, but I was preoccupied—a normal state for me lately.

Where was she? I was early. On purpose. The drive to Burlington from Wood Hollow had been treacherous. There’d even been a weather advisory. But this was in-person news. I had to look into her eyes and see if this was real.

Other than the weather, everything had gone smoothly today. Meg and Dallas were minding the store, Janey would handle the deliveries, and Silas and Troy had the afternoon flag football practice under control. The field would be a mess, but the kids wouldn’t mind and—

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, willing my shoulders to settle into place as I sent up another prayer. Please let this be it.

“Dex?”

I jumped out of my chair, pasting a bright smile on my face. “Freya. Hi. Um…take a seat. I’ll grab you something to drink. Do you want tea or coffee, a latte, cappuccino?”

Freya unbuttoned her coat and hung her purse on the back of the chair.

Her long blond hair fell over her eyes like a curtain, momentarily blocking her features.

She was an exceptionally beautiful woman.

Tall and slender with high cheekbones, brilliant blue eyes, and a slight cleft in her chin.

She was a twenty-nine-year-old artist who specialized in pottery, loved to draw, and claimed to be a decent pianist. She was also well traveled and had a degree in business from a small private college.

Although she was born in Rhode Island, she spoke with a hint of an accent.

Apparently, her parents had moved from the States to Sweden when she was seven.

Freya had grown up speaking two languages and had gone on to learn French and Spanish, too.

I mean…wow. She couldn’t have been more perfect if she’d tried.

The fact that she lived close enough and yet far enough away that no one in Wood Hollow would cross paths with her regularly was just another bonus.

Stick with me. Those details mattered.

“No, thank you. I’m fine.” Freya bit her bottom lip and grinned, her eyes crinkling at the corners mischievously—as if she had a secret.

I swallowed hard. “Good. Did you, um…”

“I did,” she replied, leaning forward in her seat.

My heart zipped into overdrive. She was killing me. “And?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Holy shit.

I blinked as tears welled without my permission. I didn’t know what to say. I stared, afraid she’d laugh and tell me she was kidding.

But Freya was still smiling and talking now…something about taking three tests to be sure.

“So you’re three hundred percent sure?”

“I am.” She squealed in delight. “The clinic will call you, obviously, but I wanted you to hear it from me first. I know how much this means to you, and I’m determined to make this a great experience for you, me, and the baby, and—say something, Dex. You’re too quiet. This is—you’re happy, right?”

I choked on a sob, gathering my composure before I turned into a blubbering mess. I could save that for the drive home.

“Yes, yes, yes. I’m…” I sniffed loudly and reached for her hand on the table. “I’m overwhelmed. This is—thank you.”

Freya gently slipped out of my grasp and slid a napkin toward me. “We have a ways to go, still. Nine whole months, to be precise.”

I blew my nose and laughed. “I can’t wait.”

“So…how will this work? You live an hour away.”

“Closer to two hours away, but that’s okay.

I’ll come to your doctor appointments, and I can be here whenever you need me.

I want to give you space yet be totally available.

” I shrugged and tried to think of what else I could offer.

“As we get closer to the due date, I’ll get a hotel room in the city to be sure I’m nearby for you and… the baby.”

Freya smiled so wide, her face lit up like a firework display on the Fourth of July. “Gah! Can you believe this? I’m in shock. The good kind.”

“Me too. I…” I sipped my latte, still scrambling to arrange my thoughts. “When are you due?”

“December fourth, according to the online calculator. We’ll see what the doctor says.”

December. It was late March now. That was ages from now. Probably for the best. I had a lot to do. A lot to plan for. And the funny thing was that no one knew.

Well…Reg knew I’d looked into surrogacy.

I’d had to tell someone, and I trusted Reg.

He was a bisexual divorcee with kids. He had perspective and experience, and I knew I’d need a friend in my corner while I navigated impending fatherhood as a single dad.

But he didn’t know about my meeting with Freya this morning.

Neither did Troy. My college buddy was going to be hurt that I hadn’t included him from the start, but I needed time to absorb what this meant…on my own. And without dealing with the buzz of the Wood Hollow rumor mill.

I loved Wood Hollow and knew it was a great place to raise children. However, in a small town, everyone had big opinions and I didn’t want to hear them. And no way was I telling my mother. Are you nuts? Not for a while at least. This was going to be a judgment-free pregnancy and birth.

That left me on a bit of an island, but I was okay with that. I was used to being alone.

I fiddled with the plastic top on the to-go cup, belatedly realizing I’d gone quiet again. “December, huh? That’s a good month.”

She beamed. “I think so, too. I’m going to Sweden to visit my parents during the holidays. I’ll have a couple of weeks to get in shape.”

“I thought your folks were thinking of moving back to the States.”

“No, Sweden is home. My older brother and sister live in London and Stockholm. They have kids, and my parents want to enjoy them.” Her voice trailed off, and it was hard to miss the hint of regret.

Freya had provided the egg and her body, but this baby wasn’t hers.

She knew the score. This was a legal business deal involving a contract and an exchange of money.

A lot of money. With that in mind, we’d both been careful not to divulge unnecessary personal information.

I knew she had siblings and that they were all educated and gainfully employed, and that was it. I wanted to keep it that way.