Seventeen
ANGELO
A fter thirty minutes of silently weaving through Seattle traffic, they finally arrived at the doctor’s office. Angelo wished the drive had lasted a little longer.
He held Allison’s hand the entire way, even though it meant sacrificing the ease of shifting gears. He didn’t mind. He didn’t mind the silence either. There was something about touching this woman that felt so right, even in such a simple way—especially considering the less-than-innocent things they had done together. But when he held her hand, he didn’t want to let go.
Ever.
And he was starting to seriously consider that.
As soon as he shut off the engine, Angelo jumped out of the car and hurried around to open Allison’s door before she could even unfasten her seatbelt. He held the door open, extending his hand to her. She climbed out, rewarding him with a smile so enchanting it almost made his knees buckle.
He followed her up the stairs, trying—and failing—not to admire the way her leggings accentuated the curve of her hips with each step. As much as he wanted to be a gentleman, he couldn’t help himself.
They were greeted by a different receptionist than the last time, who smiled politely and instructed them to head right in.
Seriously, since when do patients not wait at least fifteen minutes for the doctor?
As soon as they entered the room, Angelo made a beeline for the little stool, deliberately looking away to give her as much privacy as possible—it wasn’t like Allison would be naked, but it was still awkward.
He turned back to Allison when he heard the squeak of leather, signaling that she had sat down. He found himself staring at her profile as she looked down at her twiddling thumbs, her teeth worrying her bottom lip again.
God, I need to bite that lip.
Shaking his head to clear the thought, Angelo reached for her hand. It had calmed her down in the car, and he hoped it would work now. When her shoulders relaxed and she stopped fidgeting, he knew he was right.
Before he could say anything, the doctor entered the room, interrupting his thoughts and diving straight into a series of questions that flew over his head, though he listened intently.
“Has there been any spotting?”
“No.”
He didn’t know what that was, but the doctor’s approving nod told him it was a good thing.
“Has your morning sickness changed in frequency?”
“It’s increased.”
That made him feel guilty. He hated the thought of Allison suffering, especially alone.
Maybe I should ask—
No. Not now.
“Any specific cravings?”
“Pickled bell peppers with cheese.”
Angelo’s mouth watered at the thought of grilled peppers from Florina with feta cheese—a Greek treat similar to Allison’s craving.
I should take her to a Greek restaurant sometime.
A few questions later, the doctor set down her chart and pen, turning to the ultrasound machine. As she clicked buttons, Angelo couldn’t help but admire the dedication it took to become a doctor. The years of studying, the sleepless nights—it was something he could never see himself enduring.
His sister, though, had decided she was all in for that kind of torment. She was in her senior year of med school in Athens, with hopes of becoming a surgeon in the US one day.
Of course, Angelo hadn’t had the easiest time learning the ropes of the business world. But his father had started training him young, which had helped immensely in understanding the complicated corporate world.
Angelo glanced at Allison’s belly and mentally promised their unborn child that he’d do the same. He’d never neglect his son or daughter, even when work got hectic.
His parents, no matter how horrible they’d been to each other, had raised him well—his father had taught him how to be a true man and care for his family.
The familiar, yet still astonishing, sound of his baby’s heartbeat pulled Angelo out of his reverie.
Badum. Badum. Badum.
He would never tire of that sound—his little one’s heart pounding away. He had fallen in love with it the first time he heard it months ago, and since then, that little blip on the monitor had become his world. His little angel.
His whole heart.
“Would you like to find out the sex today?” the doctor asked, making his heart race.
Allison nodded just as vigorously as Angelo, squeezing the life out of his hand. He didn’t mind— she was clinging to him , and they were about to find out the sex of their baby.
The doctor squirted some gel on Allison’s belly, then she moved the wand across, and they both held their breath.
“Congratulations. It’s a little girl.”
A girl. A baby girl. Our baby girl.
“We’re having a girl.” Allison’s voice trembled as she repeated the words echoing in his mind. Angelo felt moisture gather in his eyes.
“We’re having a girl,” he said, trying to believe it. The words reverberated in his mind, each repetition solidifying the surreal reality.
We’re having a girl.
The phrase consumed him, becoming his entire world, a mantra that blocked out everything else. Tears streamed down his face, and his hands trembled uncontrollably. Allison, having composed herself, adjusted her clothes and stood, gently coaxing him to his feet. She guided him into a comforting embrace as the doctor quietly exited, leaving them to their private moment.
Despite the emotional storm around him, Angelo felt oddly numb, as if time had paused.
We’re having a girl.
The doctor returned, announcing their next appointment for March 30th, but it barely registered in his mind. Everything seemed distant compared to the overwhelming revelation. Allison’s gentle tug led him toward the parking lot, her soft voice asking for the car keys, but the beep of the car unlocking felt miles away. He barely noticed as she maneuvered him into the passenger seat before taking the wheel.
Through it all, Angelo remained in a daze, unable to process the life-altering news.
We’re having a baby girl.
“Angelo? Angelo, can you hear me?”
Allison’s concerned voice finally snapped him out of his trance.
“Huh?”
“Are you okay? You’ve been out of it for the past half hour,” she said, her voice filled with worry. He hadn’t realized that much time had passed. To him, it felt like seconds. To him, it felt like a lifetime.
“Sorry,” he managed, his voice rough and gravelly, as if something was lodged in his throat, burning with each word.
We’re having a girl.
“Are you…” Allison trailed off, her voice barely above a whisper. She fidgeted with her fingers, twisting and untwisting them in a nervous dance, her eyes avoiding his. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken words and her uncertainty.
“What?” he asked, his voice thick with confusion. His brain felt sluggish, struggling to catch up, leaving him as bewildered as a toddler grappling with their first words.
“Did you not…” She trailed off again, but something clicked in his mind, and suddenly he understood what she couldn’t voice.
Oh, my sweet girl.
“Allison,” he said. Just her name. And she paused, like that was all she needed to hear.
She looked at him, and something must have blazed in his eyes because she gasped, her jade eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
She reached for his hand this time, and he didn’t dare move. He was afraid that if he so much as twitched, she would pull away. He didn’t want her to pull away.
“We’re having a girl, Pinkie,” Angelo said, a smile spreading across his face and the moisture left her eyes, trailing down her cheeks.
She squeezed his hand. “We’re having a girl,” she whispered, as if saying it louder might wake her from a dream.
Angelo reached out to brush the tears from her cheeks, unable to bear seeing her cry, even if those tears were from happiness.
No tears should fall from these eyes ever again.
She stilled.
He froze.
He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
Fuck .
They both went still, barely breathing. His hand hovered midair, the other clutched in Allison’s smaller palm.
He didn’t know what to do.
I’ve officially fucked up. She’ll think I’m weird. A pervert. Or worse.
But then Allison blushed. She always blushed so prettily for him, but she had never looked him in the eye while doing it. She always looked away, too bashful to look in his direction. Now she was staring into his eyes, and she was still holding his hand, and his heart was going to explode, and his cock was stiffening by the second and—
No. I refuse to ruin this moment by thinking with my dick.
Angelo took a small breath to clear his head—and calm his smaller head—and Allison mirrored him.
She was breathing faster, shallower. She was just as affected as he was, and Angelo was barely holding onto his sanity.
Stop this.
Stop this now, before things go any further.
She isn’t yours.
Angelo’s thoughts were in turmoil, but he knew they were right. The proximity of her presence clouded his judgment.
Her tears had stopped, so his hand really had no reason to stay on her cheek—no matter how much he needed to touch her, to stroke her full bottom lip with his thumb, his lips, his tongue.
Fuck .
Slowly, reluctantly, he dropped his hand.
And when Allison took a deep breath, he felt an odd sense of relief.
If he saw even a hint of disappointment in her eyes, he wouldn’t be able to hold back. He’d fucking pounce on her, kissing her without restraint, parked right outside the doctor’s office.
He really needed to push those thoughts out of his head, or he might end up breaking the one rule he should never break:
Don’t sleep with my business rival’s daughter.
Even though he already had. But that was beside the point because he hadn’t known who she was that night three months ago.
So, his rule still stood.
And he was dangerously close to obliterating it.
That was why he’d stepped away weeks ago, when he’d held her against her car and almost lost control.
That, and the phone call from Talon.
Work consumed him incessantly, from early morning to late at night, even on days when he’d told his PA not to disturb him. Ever since he took over his father’s business four months ago, it occupied his mind relentlessly.
And whenever his mind wasn’t occupied by work, it was filled with Allison.
Her scent. Her laugh. Her smile. Her body. Her taste. Her touch. Her eyes.
God, those eyes.
He’d never seen a more captivating pair. He’d seen green, blue, brown—shades of those colors. But never eyes like hers.
I could fall in love with those eyes.
Angelo flinched at his own thoughts. Fall in love? He had just reaffirmed his rule, and now he was thinking about love? No. Angelo Taylor didn’t do love. Those feelings were childish and made him lose control.
And he needed control. He always had.
Even as a boy, he’d kept his room exactly as he wanted. Everything in its place, maintaining a specific order. He’d picked his own clothes, his own food, his extracurriculars. He made sure his parents didn’t make a single decision for him.
That was why he’d been so shaken when his father had told him the news months ago.
I’m stepping down, son. It’s time for the business to pass to you.
Angelo knew it was coming. He’d been preparing for it his whole life. His father took great pride in his empire, ensuring Angelo was trained for the takeover.
But when the moment arrived, it felt too sudden, unnecessary. He knew he was thirty-two and not getting any younger, but his father still had many good years left.
Still, Angelo packed up his life practically overnight, moving from Athens to Seattle, feeling suffocated. He couldn’t say no with the board behind it. It wasn’t his choice anymore, and that made him resent his father a little.
“Angelo?”
A strange calm washed over him. He didn’t know how she did it, but Allison made him lose control in a very different way.
She made him lose control of his body—his dick seemed to have a mind of its own nowadays. But more importantly, she made him lose control of his mind.
His carefully constructed mind, filled with meticulously archived memories, fortified with steel. No one could enter his mind. It was his own.
Or at least, it had been.
Now, it was constantly in shambles, wrecked by the pink hurricane that was Allison Lockwood.
Angelo loved his daughter already. He knew he did. But if he could have predicted what his next five years would look like, a child wouldn’t have been part of the plan.
“Angelo,” Allison spoke again, her voice soft, her face painted with alarm and confusion. Yet, he’d never seen anything more beautiful than her eyes.
Fuck, I’m going insane.
“I’m fine,” he replied curtly. He wanted to leave. But he needed her. And that scared the hell out of him.
She flinched at his tone, and Angelo was instantly filled with regret. It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t keep himself in check. He knew he shouldn’t take out his frustration on her. But before he could say anything, Allison spoke first.
“Take me home, please.” Her voice was cold, chilling him to the bone. He hated it. She was always warm, like sunlight personified, and now he felt like a dark, rainy cloud smothering her light. It felt wrong.
“No.”
“Excuse me?” Allison sounded offended.
“No, I’m not taking you home, Allison. I won’t leave you to stew over everything that just happened, consumed by your own thoughts. I know how your mind works.” Angelo gripped her hand again, his other fist clenched in his lap.
He meant what he said. Whatever Allison made him feel, the one thing he could control was his behavior. His father had taught him to respect people first and foremost, and snapping at her like that was inexcusable.
Especially when it came to Allison.
She huffed, pulling her palm away and crossing her arms over her chest. “Just take me home, Angelo.”
“Stubborn woman,” he muttered under his breath.
“What the hell did you just say?” Allison hissed, her sharp tone cutting through the air.
“I called you stubborn, Pinkie,” he snapped back, though his tone had softened.
“You don’t get to call me stubborn after snapping at me for no reason, Angelo.” She turned away, staring out the windshield, and he immediately missed the intensity of her gaze. She spoke again before he could respond. “I need space, and since you insisted on driving me this morning, take me home. Now.”
“And I said no. Don’t test me, Allison,” Angelo growled, his eyes still on her, desperate for her to look his way.
She’s right. I didn’t even apologize.
The thought calmed him, but only for a moment, before Allison’s voice broke through again.
“Angelo, if you don’t take me home right now—”
“You’ll what, Allison? Walk all the way home in rush hour, in the cold, pregnant? ” He couldn’t help teasing her, even though he knew he shouldn’t. He needed her eyes on his, and his control slipped further with every second she denied him that like a brat.
“I might as well.”
She reached for the door handle, and he snapped. She could be mad at him, but she wouldn’t put herself and his daughter in danger.
His hand shot out, keeping the door closed. His position trapped Allison against the seat, her chest brushing against his arm with every hurried breath she took.
He turned to her. She still wasn’t looking at him, and anger flared hot and fast.
“Allison,” he growled, the last of his control unraveling. “Look at me.”
It was a quiet command, but he needed her to obey, or he would lose the thin thread of restraint he had left.
When she didn’t, he repeated himself, his voice darker. “Eyes, Allison.”
Still, she refused.
You’re in trouble, sweet girl.
In one swift motion, he released the door and grabbed her chin, turning her face toward his, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“When I tell you to look at me, Allison, you look at me,” he growled, his voice low and rough.
Her eyes blazed with fire, daring him. He wanted her to burn him alive, to unleash that fire on him and never stop.
She glanced at his lips, and he shuddered. He looked at hers, fighting the tremble in his hand. He prayed no one would interrupt them this time, or he’d bring down Olympus and all the gods.
What the hell am I even thinking? Am I losing my mind?
“Let. Me. Go.”
Her words were like ice water, extinguishing the fire she’d ignited in him. Her voice was fragile, distant, like a whisper lost in the wind.
Of all the outcomes he’d imagined, this wasn’t one of them.
She’d asked him to let her go. Her voice was trembling, cold once more. He dropped his hand immediately, sick to his stomach.
He would never force himself on a woman. He didn’t know what had come over him, but he’d nearly crossed a line.
Without another word, they both exited the car, switching seats. Tensely, he turned the key in the ignition, pressed the gas, and drove her home in silence.