There Are No Words (The Morelli Sisters #3)

Chapter Ten

Brady

Why in the world did anyone think it was a good idea to pick up a pregnancy book and buy it? I read the back of the cover and nowhere on it did it say warning: this book may scare the living shit out of you . And it wasn’t just because of the detailed changes they described that a woman’s body, mind, and spirit would go through—which was a lot, by the way. Right off the bat, they practically wrote a eulogy for a woman’s feet. I mean, where were they going?

I flipped through the book regardless of my reservations. I was determined to be in this process with Allegra. Sure, I wasn’t carrying the baby, obviously, but there were other ways I could make myself useful, right?

I drank my coffee as I held the book open with my other hand. Irony was, I was simultaneously reading about what Allegra would have to refrain from while drinking caffeine. She didn’t care so much about coffee as she did tea.

I shifted in my seat, and it made a sound on the hardwood floor. I was at the kitchen table, waiting for Allegra to wake up and come out of her room. I’d made her breakfast—one that was good for her and our baby, as noted on page eighty-two. Yeah, this book was going to be my Bible until I learned everything there was to know.

“Hey, Brady!” Allegra called out.

I looked up and waited for her to make an appearance but nothing. “What’s up?” I hollered back.

“Want to know your horoscope today?”

I grinned. Allegra and her horoscope reading. It was her morning ritual, and sometimes she’d try to include me in it. I never did care to know what my day was going to hold, though. “Nah. Thanks, though.”

* * *

Allegra

I tossed my phone on my duvet and exhaled deeply, more than a little frustrated by my horoscope. I never went a morning without checking it, but some days were better than others when it came to what it said. Naturally. Today’s really raked at me, though. Maybe it was because there was so much truth to it. Although, I liked to pretend otherwise, like everything was all hunky-dory in my life. Here, read it for yourself:

You must accept that you cannot change certain things. If you feel lost and confused, then look within yourself and find the light that moves you. Float through the turbulent seas of unease, and you will find your way.

If I really analyzed it, the truth was, my horoscope could’ve been talking about anything. But I chose to think it was about work. It had to be. That was the only thing that was turbulent (read: stressful) these days.

Well, that and my personal life.

Okay, so only wasn’t the right word.

Ugh. I needed tea, but since that wasn’t happening for another several months, I decided I’d have to find a new way to relax. Or increase the number of days a week I did yoga to a full seven.

Walking out of my room, I wasn’t sure what I’d expected to find. Brady, sure, but what he would be doing was always a surprise. Today, he had his nose in some book— what’s he reading? —and his mouth on a mug, sipping coffee knowing him. It looked like he’d just shaved because he had no trace of stubble or a five o’clock shadow. He had a chiseled jaw, but not so much that it could cut glass. Even through his shirt I could see his defined muscles and wished things were different between us so that I could trace my tongue along each dip. I let my eyes roam all the way back down to his hands where the veins were bulging. He had long fingers and muscular hands. Geez, I’d bet those fingers were skillful, too. Why had I wanted to go hard and fast that night?

He seemed enthralled in whatever he was reading, but I couldn’t help myself—“Hey, when are you going to say yes to hearing your horoscope?” I asked, padding in the rest of the way to the kitchen so I was standing in front of him.

He grunted in response.

“You know, I don’t even know your birthday.” I had never wanted to get too personal with him. We were roommates, and I hadn’t wanted things to get complicated, so I didn’t know things like his birthday. What a joke that was, by the way. He’d been inside me, and now I was growing our child. Funny, ironic, horrible—not sure how you wanted to see it.

“Hmm. . .” Brady murmured. “What’d you say? I was reading.” He finally looked up.

“I noticed.”

He set the book down on the table. “I’m glad you’re here. I made you break—”

As I sat down, I got a good look at the book and that was when I could no longer see straight. I could no longer hear him. Blood pumped in my ears with a vengeance.

He was reading a pregnancy book.

A pregnancy book.

A book filled with information about being pregnant.

I couldn’t seem to peel my eyes away from it. I was completely zeroed in on it and hoped Brady noticed the way I was focused on his choice of reading material.

He could read any book in the whole frigging world, but he’d decided to read this. A pregnancy book!

I no longer cared about when his birthday was or being friendly. I didn’t even care that he’d made me breakfast. What, was he waiting for me to see him being better than me and reading a pregnancy book? Give me a lecture on what he’d read?

I didn’t need a mirror to know my face was red. My ears were burning, which was a surefire way to tell I was pissed.

“Are you reading a pregnancy book?” I practically shouted.

He smiled and actually had the gall to look pleased with himself. “I am. It’s—”

“How dare you!” Seething, I stormed from my chair and picked it up, swinging it in the air. “How could you read this? I can’t believe you even bought it!” My heart was beating so fast I thought it would beat right out of my chest. If it did, it would be all because of Brady and his newfound love for reading pregnancy books.

His eyes widened, and they were practically bugging out of his head by the time he said, “I ordered it online.” He sucked air through his teeth. “What’s the problem?”

What was the—

As if he didn’t know!

The problem was that he was reading it. He was reading the book like he was the one carrying a baby.

I fanned the pages at him. “It’s a pregnancy book! I’m pregnant.”

I could tell he was biting back a laugh as he responded, “That’s the point.”

“I’m the one who’s pregnant.” I didn’t like repeating myself, but it obviously needed repeating because he was missing the point. “Not you!” I shook my head, unbelieving I’d walked in here to find this. “You think I’m going to be a crappy mom. That I won’t do this right? That I’ll mess up before the kid is even baked? Ohmigod, I can’t believe this!” I was spiraling. I knew I was. But, come on, first Brady wanted to be part of every little thing and now this?

Brady moved to get up, and I raised a hand in the air and stopped him. He sat back down and lowered his voice as he said, “Allegra, I don’t—”

“Don’t even. Don’t talk to me like I’m being irrational.”

He cocked a brow. “Is there a tone of voice for that?”

“Yeah, and it’s the one you just used.” I put a hand on my hip and waited for him to argue with me on this. I didn’t know why, but for some reason I felt like getting into an argument. I wasn’t normally like this. I usually thought arguments were a waste of time.

“All right, well, I was just trying to explain that my intention was to get more information because I want to be the best partner I can be in all of this.”

Partner? What was Brady not understanding? Now I got why people tried not to get knocked up. Among the myriad of reasons was this one: the man got mixed up with what was happening. “That’s just it, though. You’re not my partner.”

“When it comes to this baby, I am.”

I dropped my arm and relaxed the muscles in my face. I supposed he had a point. Brady was trying to do the right thing by our baby. I couldn’t fault him for not seeing all sides of it before he bought that stupid book. “Fine. Sorry I got upset.”

He shrugged and the corner of his lips curled upward in that smile that practically had me wanting to drop to my knees right here. In case you didn’t get the memo, I was seriously physically attracted to Brady. Like if I could spend all day and night worshipping him, I would. Pretty sick, right? Just so you know, I’d never felt this way about anyone before. This was much more Bianca’s territory than it was mine.

I sat down across from him and licked my lips, nodding my head toward the book. “So is the book any good?” Honestly, I hadn’t felt the need to read a pregnancy book. I mean, Maria had read one when she got pregnant with Isabella, but she’d told me she wished she hadn’t because it was pretty generic. Just because certain things happened to some women didn’t mean it happened to all women—it was like periods.

He shrugged. “I learned a few things.”

“Yeah, and what’s that?”

“Nothing important.” Okayyy. “I made you breakfast, though. I know you usually eat yogurt and are on your way out, but you’re eating for two now.”

I wasn’t sure why, but that comment annoyed me, too. But I was really trying to bite back my mood swings and cool it.

When I didn’t object, Brady smiled and winked at me. I swore that wink should have been illegal. It made me feel out of control. Brady Moore winked, and I feared I would do something stupid, like strip down naked and demand he have his way with me.

He walked behind me to the stove, went to the cabinets, made some noise fishing through the utensil drawer, and the next thing I knew toast and an herbed ricotta cheese omelet was in front of me.

Tears filled my eyes, and I looked upward, trying to will them away, but I couldn’t. It was like I had no control over the water flowing from my eyes. It was running down my cheeks, and I choked back a sob, which only had me swallowing hard.

Brady was next to me in an instant, his hand resting on my shoulder. His strong, large hand. Geez, why did he have to be designed like a Roman sculpture—perfect in every way. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. Of course he was concerned because I was crying over his sweet gesture, the beautiful breakfast he’d made for me. I was scaring myself, so why shouldn’t he be worried?

I batted my lashes and looked up at him through the tears. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I guess I’m overwhelmed, that’s all. First the pregnancy book and now this.”

He brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear, and I loved the way his touch felt. I missed it when the sensation left my body and immediately wished he’d touch me there again.

“May I have a tissue?” I questioned, looking at the box next to the couch in the living room.

* * *

Brady

I passed her a tissue and watched as she dabbed at her eyes. What the hell was going on with her this morning? It was like she was on a goddamn rollercoaster.

I wished I could get a glimpse into what was going on in that pretty little head of hers. Scratch that, I had a feeling I wouldn’t want that. Yeah, I was perfectly fine out here, oblivious to what went through a woman’s mind.

She sniffled and peered down at her food. Do I ask her if she’s okay now? Of course I shouldn’t do that, then she’d think I thought her showing emotion meant she wasn’t okay before. Better idea: I’d ask her about work. That was always a safe topic.

I sat back down across from her and cleared my throat. “So how’s everything going at work?” She’d told me about some party she was planning.

With her fork in hand, she looked up at me, and her lips parted slightly. Oh, shit, what had I done now? Was something going on at work that was upsetting her? That would make her cry? Let’s try this: shut the hell up, Brady!

Allegra raked her bottom lip through her teeth. Fuck, how I wanted to put my thumb there and pull down on her bottom lip. I shook my head. Not the time for that.

“One of the most influential people I wanted to attend wasn’t going to because of some scandal or another.”

“But they changed their mind?”

“When I told them the party was going dark, yes.”

I furrowed my brows. “Dark?”

“Yeah, like no social media. No phones at all actually.”

“Oh, you mean archaic.”

She laughed and her cheeks turned rosy. There was the Allegra I knew.

“It’s actually a good idea,” she defended in between bites of her omelet. “It will create buzz around the party and more people will RSVP, which is exactly what we want.”

“How do you figure?” I asked, leaning back.

She closed her mouth as she finished chewing, licked her lips, then answered, “Easy. People have FOMO. They want to know what’s going on, and if no one can post about it on social media, then people are going to feel left out.” She tucked her hair behind her ear to keep it from falling in her face as she ate. “Really, this party should have the most attendees we’ve ever had.”

“You sound confident.” Allegra was nothing if not confident as hell, especially when it came to Bellissima . She had this glimmer in her eye, too, one that said she could talk about her job day and night and be completely satisfied.

She shrugged. “This is really good.” She pointed to her plate and wet her lips again. Stop wetting your lips, Allegra, unless you want me to come over there and claim them with my own. “It comes with the territory. If I’m not confident in my decisions, then nothing will get done.”

“True. So everything’s going well?”

She swayed her head back and forth and set the fork down. “Not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“The bartender can’t make it, which means I have to find another one. Only, at this late in the game, all the good ones are probably booked.”

Was she serious? She was staring at a bartender. All she had to do was ask. She’d never do that, though, and we both knew it. So instead, I offered, “I’ll do it.”

“No,” she deadpanned.

I crossed my arms and cocked a brow. “Why not?” I didn’t need to ask that technically because if her not asking for my help with this pregnancy or baby was any indication, then I had my answer. Allegra didn’t like to get help. Or let people in, which was just as bad.

“Because I didn’t ask you to,” she answered in a clipped tone.

“That’s why I’m offering.” Didn’t she see the distinction?

“I’ll figure something else out. I don’t need your help.”

Clearly this was going to go on. She was bull-headed, that was for sure.

My jaw clenched. “Fine. You don’t need my help.”

“Good.” Her eyes were intent on mine.

“But I’m still doing it.”

She narrowed her eyes. “No, you’re not.”

I uncrossed my arms. “Allegra, stop being stubborn.”

“I’m not being stubborn.”

“What is it with you? It’s like you refuse to ask for help.”

“Because I don’t need it.”

“Then help me, okay? Because I don’t like being shot down, so you’ll be helping me by agreeing to let me be your bartender.”

“A bruised ego? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Guess so.”

“Sure,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air. “I give. You can be our bartender.”

I grinned like a cocky bastard. “You know, it’s funny because when we were sleeping together, you had no problem asking for my help to get you to orgasm. Then again when you wanted me to keep on going, so you could milk it for everything it was.”

I enjoyed the way her cheeks turned crimson the more I talked about our one-night stand.

She bit the corner of her lip. “You done?”

“Almost.”

She cleared her throat, got up, and went to the fridge.

I knew she was just looking for a distraction. “Tell me, how wet did that just make you?” I pushed.

She turned back to me and shot me a dirty look. Only it didn’t work on me because I saw it as cute. Although, I didn’t think she’d want to hear that at this exact moment.