Undeniably Convenient (Boston's Irresistible Billionaires Book 1), page 22
“Thank you for always being mine,” he replies softly, his voice thick.
“Okay, enough of this emotional shit.”
He laughs, kissing my forehead and then releasing me. “Bennett is waiting. He seems like a good guy, but if he’s ever not, let me know and we’ll ruin his life.”
I roll my eyes. “You sound like Owen and Vander.”
He gives an unconcerned shrug, smirking at someone behind me, and I turn to find Bennett standing there, clearly having overheard since he’s wiping at a smile on his lips. “Where do you think they learned it from?”
Bennett takes my hand and helps me into the car, and we drive back to his house. It feels surreal. All the months and years I’ve been thinking about this moment and it’s here. Bennett brings me inside and then lifts me off my feet, carrying me toward the stairs bride-style.
“I can walk.”
“I know.”
“You’re not going to be like this with me for the next nine months, are you?”
His eyes meet mine as he walks me up the steps, not even winded as he goes. “You passed out in my OR this morning, Katy. You’ve been sick all week. No way in fucking hell am I letting you risk getting dizzy and falling down the stairs.”
Fine. I don’t press it. Not even when he walks me into his bathroom and turns on his shower, letting the water come up to temperature. His eyes lock on the bathtub and then shoot over to me, and I can tell he’s trying very hard to keep them in safe, neutral territory.
“You’re thinking about the last time I took a bath in here, aren’t you?”
He smirks, his dimple sinking in deep. “I think about that night every time I come in here. And I mean that literally in both ways.”
“I think about that night a lot too. Every time I use Chris.”
He chokes. “Chris? Who the fuck is Chris?”
I shrug. “Hemsworth, Evans, Pratt. Take your pick.”
He curses under his breath. “I’m going to have to buy you a Bennett vibrator.”
I try not to frown at the insinuation behind that and start to undress, only to pause when I catch Bennett watching me. We’ve been sleeping together for a couple of months, but now everything is different. Hell, it’s in our contract.
I didn’t think about it the last time we had sex.
I didn’t think that would be my last time with him.
He moves in behind me and reaches around me, undoing the tie on my scrub pants. They fall down my legs along with my thong that he pushes over my hips. Without a word, he gets undressed too and follows me into the shower.
“I didn’t invite you to join me,” I tease.
“Yes, you did. You just didn’t realize it. Besides, I wasn’t giving you the choice.”
I shake my head at that. Such a goddamn caveman.
The warm water feels like heaven on my aching muscles, and I reach up, brushing my hair from my face and getting it wet. I grab the shampoo, but he’s right there with it, massaging it into my head, the scent of him surrounding me since he used his and not mine, clinging to the steam and my senses. He does the same thing with the conditioner all the while we’re silent, neither of us knowing how to start this.
He dumps a handful of bodywash into his palm and rubs his hands together, creating a foamy lather. With his eyes on mine, he starts to wash my body, rubbing, massaging, and cleaning me without lingering anywhere too long. His hands coast over my breasts, between my legs, and across my ass.
He’s hard, but he’s not paying any attention to that. This is about him taking care of me, as he always does, and I can’t get enough of it. Of him. When he’s done with me, he forces me to sit on the stone bench he has in here, and then he quickly washes his own hair and body before he turns off the shower, hops out to wrap a towel around his waist, and then returns with one for me.
“Can you eat anything?” he finally asks, his voice a soft purr.
“Maybe some broth. I need to check my glucose and make sure I’m not having any rebound hypoglycemia.”
“Do you feel like you are?”
I shake my head, and relief swarms his features.
“Good. Come with me.” He lifts me again, not giving me the choice, and then sets me down on his bed. With a quick kiss to my nose, he goes down the hall to my room and returns with a thong and a pair of sweatpants that he hands me to put on.
“I need a shirt.” I laugh the words.
“I know.”
He moves into his closet and comes back out with a T-shirt and sweatshirt of his.
I raise a questioning eyebrow, but he ignores it as he gets himself dressed. He wants me to wear his clothes. Probably for the same reason he put his bodywash in my bathroom and anytime I attempt to bring my own back in there, it magically disappears with only his to be found. I like being wrapped in him. I feel comforted and safe when I smell his scent on my skin.
And now, with it surrounding me in his clothes, well…
I stop thinking about it and just put them on, inhaling deeply and not even caring if he catches me doing it. I want more of this because I don’t want it to end between us. But deep down, I know it has to. Even if it makes my heart hurt in the worst of ways.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Katy is quiet, and I have no idea what to do with a quiet Katy. She has a lot on her mind, but when Katy is anxious or excited, she talks. Non-freaking-stop, she talks. It’s a magical portal into the wild thoughts that live in her head, and I love it. So a quiet Katy is disconcerting. What happened with her today scared me. But it also shook me with a reality I no longer want to ignore.
We have a lot to talk about. A lot to sort out.
But right now, she’s too lost in her thoughts for that.
Passing out at work and then learning that you’re pregnant is a lot to take in.
We canceled our dinner with her uncle and stepmom because Katy is wiped from the day—and frankly, she isn’t able to eat more than soup—but right now, I’m not what she needs. I pose too many complications in her head. I see it all over her face as she sips the soup I made her. I saw it when she reluctantly took my clothes to put on.
I’m not even sure why I did that other than I wanted her surrounded by me, so she’d know that I have her and that not only is she safe, but I’ll always take care of her. Only instead of making her feel that way, I think I’m fucking with her head. At least I hope I am. I hope I have her questioning and rethinking everything we wrote into that contract.
But still…
“Katy?”
She slowly lifts her chin.
“Kenna, Keegan, Owen, Vander, Stone, and Mason will be here in about ten minutes. I’m going to change and head to the bar down the block so you can have time alone with them.”
She blinks at me, a slow roll of her eyes and dark lashes. “You called them?”
I rest my elbows on the counter on the other side of the island from her. The exact same position I was in when I brought her here and proposed all of this. “You look like you need them.”
She puffs out a loud, exaggerated breath as if she’s trying to hold herself together. A tear tracks down her cheek, but she quickly wipes it away and then breaks out into a shaky laugh. “How did you know? I didn’t even know.”
I shrug. “I know you, Katy baby. I can read you.”
“You’re okay if I tell them? Even though it’s so soon. I can hold off on telling the others for a bit, but that won’t last long if I’m not drinking. My people know me.”
I grin. “They do know you, and I’m fine with telling them. We need to tell my mom.”
“Can I cook dinner for her tomorrow night? We can tell her then.”
My eyebrows bounce. “You want to cook?”
She shrugs. “If my stomach is up to it, yeah. I mean, it won’t be much. As you know, I only know how to make like five things, but I’m sure she’ll like one of them.”
Hope blooms in my chest. She’s starting to talk. To brighten up a bit. “She’ll love anything you make her. Especially if we tell her you’re pregnant. How are you feeling?”
A brilliant smile overtakes her face. “Good. Excited. Weird. Happy. Freaking out a bit. Or a lot. I might be freaking out a lot. You?”
“Same. All of the same.” I hesitate. Fuck it. I round the island and drop into the seat beside her, twisting her until she’s facing me, and take her hand in mine.
“Katy…” I want you to move into my room. I want you to fall in love with me. I want to be not just the father of your baby but your guy, the one you love and curl up against every night and wake up beside every morning. Fuck! “We’re having a baby together.”
“That we are, my friend.”
I stiffen, my insides plummeting hard and fast to my feet. Friend. Did she just call me her fucking friend? It was said off the cuff, but now she’s staring straight into my eyes and she’s not taking it back or talking over it the way she typically would.
She wants me to know she means it.
“Katy… I…” I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to be your friend. I want to be your everything the way you are mine.
Fuck. Just… fuck. I don’t think I’ve ever been in as much pain as I am now, and hell, is that saying a lot. I had a father who didn’t love me, a wife and best friend who betrayed me, and a mother who is sick with cancer. But one word from Katy and it feels like my life is falling apart faster than it ever has before.
Friend. A humorless, devastated laugh hits the air between us. It’s funny, or not so much. Maybe more ironic in a twisted way. Her eyes are all over mine, and just as she opens her mouth to say something else, the doorbell rings. Her eyes close, and she blows out a breath.
There’s nothing else to say after that anyway.
“You’re sure about this?” Katy whispers through the side of her mouth.
“You mean I should turn them away?”
She opens her eyes just as a second impatient ring sounds. “I’m just saying, gird your loins because shit is about to go down.”
“Who says gird your loins? I’m not sure I even know what that means.”
“It means there’s an incoming invasion.”
“Katy…” I trail off, stuck, fucking ruined and miserable, and yet so goddamn elated and happy, I can’t make heads or tails of any of it. I lost Katy, but she’s pregnant with my kid. She called me her friend. Her fucking friend.
How do I fight that?
She might as well have cut me off at the stem and tossed my dick in the trash before chucking my nuts outside for the squirrels to have. They’re no longer necessary to her, and she made that abundantly clear. Purpose served, now move on.
Only I can’t move on.
I’m in love with the woman carrying my child and all she wants from me is friendship. How do I change that? Is that even an option? We have a contract. She’s following the rules when I’m trying to break them.
“Thank you for this,” she says, giving me a half-smile and a small hip bump like the buddy I am to her as we head for the door. “They would have been relentless otherwise.”
“This is your home, Katy. They’re your people. Don’t thank me. They’re always welcome.”
“I’d thank you by dropping to my knees later, but we’re not doing that anymore.”
Blood races like a Formula 1 race car straight to my dick and the words “We could” flee my lips before I can censure them.
“I thought we weren’t doing that anymore.”
“We could,” I repeat.
She shakes her head and looks at me as she chews on the corner of her lip just as the doorbell rings for a third time. “Probably not a smart thing to do anymore.” She clears her throat. “We should let them in before Keegan breaks down the door.”
“Right.” I can’t even meet her eyes. Getting kicked repeatedly in the nuts hurts less than this.
Katy leaves me standing here like the chump I am and goes for the door, swings it open, and Keegan and Kenna immediately swallow her up.
“Oh my god! Are you okay?” Keegan cries, squeezing the life from Katy. “We’ve been worried sick about you all day and you had your phone off.”
“I’m fine,” Katy reassures them. “It was just low blood sugar. Not the first time I’ve passed out, and likely not the last.”
“I told you that you should have eaten something,” Keegan wails.
“Let her breathe,” Owen demands, pulling her in for a hug, looking her over, and then coming over to me for a fist pound. “Thanks for calling, man.”
I give him a nod because that’s about all I’ve got at the moment.
“Yeah,” Stone exclaims, giving me a bro hug. “That means a lot.”
“Definitely,” Mason agrees, with a slap on my back. “We’ve been pretty worried since we got the text earlier. Even after Cal told us she was okay and back here with you.”
In the two months Katy and I have been doing this, I like to think I’ve grown decently friendly with these guys. I talk with them. We shoot the shit. I like them, and I believe they like me back. But they’re not my people the way they are hers. I can’t confide in them as she can, and once again, I’m reminded just how alone I am.
“Do you want to tell them?” Katy asks softly, her gaze on mine from halfway across the room, and I can feel everyone else’s eyes bouncing between the two of us.
“Holy shit.” Keegan gasps. “You’re pregnant. Aren’t you?”
“We are,” Katy confirms, and the girls scream, hugging her again. “Stop! I haven’t even missed my period yet. It’s early, and you all know better than anyone that a lot can happen in the first trimester.”
“Did you just find out?” That’s Kenna.
Katy walks them into the family room off the kitchen and sits down on the plush leather sofa, tucking her feet beneath her.
She nods. She giggles. She exalts. “Yes. We found out when I passed out. They ran blood.”
Owen and Vander—ever fucking observant Owen and Vander—take in her sweatshirt, her wet hair, and then mine. They both catch my eye and read everything I’m doing a shit job of trying to hide and frown. They both frown at me. Like poor fucking Bennett, we see you, but she doesn’t get it. And for that reason, I need to go. If they see it, everyone else will, and I can’t. I just can’t with that right now.
I’m too furious with myself for even getting here in the first place.
“I’m going to go and give you time together,” I announce.
Before Katy can say anything or I can register her expression, I’m out the door and plowing down the street. I got everything I asked for, but I feel like I have nothing at all. I slam into the bar on the corner, the swanky gay bar that’s all trendy lighting, thumping house music, fantastic drinks, bar food, and thankfully no women who are interested in me. Moving to the South End has its perks.
“What can I get you, honey?” the bartender asks as I take a seat at the bar.
“Tequila. A lot of good tequila. No ice.”
“How good?”
“The best you’ve got.”
He goes for the tall, blue, and white bottle on the top shelf and uncorks it. He sets the low-ball glass on the wood and pours me a solid three fingers. “Maybe you should just call him and tell him how you feel.”
I blink at the man. “Maybe I should.” I pick up my phone and dial the number I’ve been avoiding for three weeks.
“Hey!” Cayden picks up on the first ring, shock and hope stirring his voice.
I pick up my glass and down half of it in one gulp before wiping my lips with the back of my hand. “You’re an absolute motherfucker. A total piece of shit. I will never forgive you.” Even as I’m mentally thanking him. If he hadn’t fucked Liz, I wouldn’t be here with Katy. Even if she’s not mine and never will be.
We’re pregnant. I’m going to be a father. My mother is going to be a grandmother. That’s what I need to focus on. Not the way my heart feels like it’s been run over a cheese grater.
The bartender throws me an eye as if to say, that’s not what I meant, and I finish off my glass, pointing to it for him to refill it. He quickly does and then sets the bottle on the ledge behind the bar and goes over to help someone else down the other end.
“I know,” Cayden says solemnly. “I am a motherfucker, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I’m sorry, Ben. So fucking sorry.”
I rest my forehead in my hand and stare down at my glass as I press the phone to my ear. “She’s pregnant.”
“What?! Liz is pregnant?”
I roll my eyes and take another sip, savoring the smooth flavor and warmth filling my stomach and veins. “No. Seriously? Are you that stupid? Katy is, you fuckass.”
“Oh.” He clears his throat, almost in what sounds like relief. “Okay.” I hear him moving in the background. “Right. You’re in love with Katy and I’m in love with Liz, so that’s just how my brain worked. How do you feel about that? Katy, I mean. Forget Liz.”
I already have. “How do you think I feel? The woman I love is pregnant with my kid.”
He chuckles under his breath as muted sounds flow around him. “Ah, so you finally admit it.”
“She doesn’t love me back.”
The bartender refills my glass even though I didn’t ask him to. He gives me a look like he wants to say something but doesn’t know what, other than, “You know, I totally didn’t peg you as straight. Not with that curly hair, those blue eyes, and that dimpled chin despite your rugged features.”
I shrug. “As long as you don’t peg me, I don’t care.”
He belts out a laugh, and so does Cayden. “Shame. It’s always the pretty ones who are the least available.”
“I think that was the best joke you’ve ever made,” Cayden says in my ear.
“That was a total Katy joke,” I tell him before going back to the bartender. The hollow space around my heart grows, and I crumble. “Just keep them coming.”
“Are you driving?”
I shake my head. “I live up the street.”
