Chapter 15 #2
"It's not a baby yet- screw that, yes, I'm carrying your baby. You knocked me up. I hope you're proud of yourself."
He laughed at that and replied shakily. "Immensely.
" Tilting her head upward, he kissed her slowly, igniting the passion that was never too far from the surface.
She leaned into him, her tongue meeting his.
His hands roamed up and down her back and came to rest on her flat stomach where his seed was growing.
There was a persistent knock on the doors before they were pushed open. But they were deaf to everything else but each other.
The sound of a throat being cleared vaguely registered but was ignored as well.
"Go away," Brant growled, his lips only inches from his wife's.
"Darling, I only came to see my daughter-in-law. The sooner you pay me some mind, the quicker I get out of your way."
Sighing softly, he lifted his head. "You might as well come all the way in." He kept a firm arm around his wife's waist, preventing her from moving away.
"What a gracious and welcoming invitation," she said charmingly as she floated into the room. "My dear, how lovely you look."
"We have news," Indigo told her, eyes dancing.
"Oh, my dear goodness!" Angeline clapped her hands together and rushed over to embrace them. "When? How far along? Oh, this is a cause for celebration. We should-"
"Six weeks, and for now, it's just the three of us who will know." Indigo stopped the rush of excitement. "We don't want to jinx it." She looked at her husband for confirmation, and he nodded.
"Oh." Angeline looked faintly disappointed but nodded in reluctant agreement. "All right. But dinner at the house on Sunday. I will not take no for an answer." She hugged them again before floating back out, a pleased expression on her lovely face.
"Think she'll keep it to herself?" Indigo asked as soon as Angeline closed the doors behind her.
"Highly unlikely," her husband said wryly, causing her to sigh.
"I noticed you have very few photos of us on your desk." She was flushed and sated from the thorough lovemaking and sprawled on his chest.
He quirked a brow at her. Her locks were tumbling around her lovely face, and he knew that very soon, he was going to make love to her again.
"Did you see the life-sized one over the mantel?"
She nodded. She had seen it the very first time she stepped into his office. It was a striking pose of her when she posed in front of a flowering rose bush outside the church. The photographer had captured her wide smile and the sparkle in her eyes.
"And the ones on my desk?" he added as she continued to stare at him.
"I have a dozen or more on my desk, and yours is way bigger than mine," she pointed out.
"I wasn't aware it was a bloody competition."
"If it were, I would have won, hands down."
"You're crazy."
"But you love me."
"I'm starting to wonder why."
"It might be because I'm curvy or the fact that I make you laugh. What if it's a girl?" Her sudden switch in topic had him blinking.
"What?"
"A girl. What if it's a girl cooking in my uterus?"
"Cooking? Is that the medical term?"
"You know what I mean. Now answer the question."
"I don't think the question is complete."
"Okay, smart-ass. What if it's a girl? Will you be pleased?"
"Nope. I would send it right back." He grinned at her pained expression. "I really don't know what you want me to say. If it's a girl, it's fine with me."
"You want an heir."
"I want a healthy child," he corrected her. "The sex doesn't matter to me."
"Really?" Her expression was skeptical.
"Really."
"You need an heir."
"Girls can be heirs as well."
"You need someone to carry on the O'Keefe name."
"We will cross that bridge when we get to it. Now shut up about it."
"But-" He solved the problem by closing his mouth over hers.
The first three months flew by like magic, without her experiencing anything other than slight heartburn and mild nausea. John monitored her carefully, insisting on seeing her every two weeks.
And she was thrilled. Her brother was also doing extremely well and had been by to visit them, staying the weekend. At first, he had been intimidated by her husband, but Brant had gone out of his way to make him feel comfortable. She had to be grateful for that.
August blew in with intense heat and debilitating exhaustion. She started showing, much to her concern, and then came the raging hormones, which had her crying at one point and feeling sorry for herself.
Her mood swings were so alarming that it was as if she were two different people. Brant would come home to see her curled up in bed, creating all sorts of scenarios in her head.
And the paranoia was soon obvious. Her ankles had started swelling, forcing her to stay off her feet.
Whereas the first trimester was a breeze, the second was brutal.
She was sick every single morning, forcing the doctors to prescribe something stronger than the usual anti-nausea meds they had been giving her.
But it made her so drowsy that she could barely keep her eyes open.
And she started wondering if her husband was cheating on her. She said it to her friend one blisteringly hot summer afternoon, which heralded the last Saturday in August. She had started spending less time at the store because of her pregnancy.
"You're insane. That man loves you to distraction."
"And yet, he's been avoiding me." She wished she could find the effort to slide into the pool.
They were lying beneath striped umbrellas, partaking of the iced tea Mrs. Holt had made before her departure, but the heat was still stifling.
Indigo could swear that the temperature had been turned up especially high on her skin.
She felt like she was being burned alive.
"He went to the club today."
"So?" Juliet was enjoying the interlude. When her friend had called and asked her to come over, she had jumped at the opportunity to do just that. And she had arrived with her swimsuit and straw hat.
"He's supposed to stay with me. What if something happens to the baby? What if I have a fall?"
"He knew you had invited me to come over." Her friend eyed her curiously. "You never used to be so clingy and needy."
"I want sex all the time," she admitted.
"Brant cannot come inside the bedroom without me trying to jump him.
I've ruined three of his expensive shirts and left marks on his skin.
I also fart a lot. Please don't laugh," she begged when Juliet started.
"It's not funny. I feel fat and unattractive and I pee constantly.
I'm almost five months pregnant and I already look like an elephant. I think he's having an affair."
"With whom?"
Indigo shrugged restlessly. "I don't know. We went to dinner the other night, and I almost had words with the server. She was coming onto my husband and behaving as if I were invisible."
"And was your husband responding to the flirting?"
She shrugged. "He claimed he did not even notice her."
"There you go." Juliet leaned forward. "You hit the jackpot. Men like Brant O'Keefe don't grow on trees. I envy you. Hell, most women envy you. He's devoted and attentive. I've seen him around you, and he's pure gold. Be careful you don't mess up a good thing. No, a great thing."
But she couldn't stop. Suddenly she had become a woman who was constantly fearing that her husband was with someone else.
After Juliet left, she roamed the apartment restlessly.
Her back had started to ache, as well as her ankles, and she was becoming irritable and resentful.
She knew he had said he had to go to the club and had even asked if she wanted to accompany him, and she had said no.
Sitting for several hours in a moving vehicle made her stomach queasy.
But he could have stayed home, she thought angrily, wandering into the bedroom and stepping out on the balcony. He could have chosen to stay with her.
She was sick to her stomach, and he knew that. Right now, she was alone even though he had told her that if she needed him, she should call, or if anything was wrong, she should call his mother. But she needed him.
"Okay, girl," she said firmly. "This is not you.
You've always been strong and independent.
You were the one who pushed to get pregnant.
And it's time you start acting like the strong black woman you are.
" Whirling back into the room, she grabbed a light jacket and her keys and headed downstairs.
She would go to the store and do inventory or make some calls.
He came to the store. He had called while she was in the middle of doing paperwork.
Instead of arguing that she was at work, he told her he would come to her.
He was earlier than she expected and could not help but be happy that he had decided to cut his trip short. She also owed him an apology for what she was putting him through and was determined to stop. Juliet was right. She had a great thing going, and it was up to her not to ruin it.
He came straight around to her office, looking so achingly handsome that it made her heart dip and slide. His sable-brown hair was ruffled by the breeze, and the white T-shirt looked great against his tan. The faded jeans fit his lean frame perfectly.
His tawny eyes, those wonderful eyes that she loved so much, studied her face.
"Hi."
"Hi." He stood there leaning on the doorjamb. "How are you?"
"I'm good. Just a little tired, that's all. We need to talk."
"Yes, we do."
She bit her lip at his cool tone and figured she deserved it.
"Are you about finished?"
"Yes." She nodded.
"I'll wait for you out in the parking lot. I have a few calls to make."
With that, he turned and left. Sitting back in the chair, she realized dejectedly that he had not even kissed her.