Rendezvous (22 page)

My morning sickness is in full swing and most days I try to stick with ginger ale and graham crackers. Marco has been in touch and told us how they are enjoying the world over. He and Aggie are somewhere over in Europe enjoying gross sounding foods and potent alcoholic beverages. He’s very excited about the baby news, even though he’d already heard it from Tristan. He tells me he isn’t sure when he will be back stateside, but as long as he is taking care of his health and Aggie, I don’t mind.

Tristan is becoming accustomed to my mood swings. It’s like he has some kind of radar to sense when I’m going to be in a shitty mood. Our sex life, on the other hand, is insane. I feel like my libido is in overdrive. Horny doesn’t even come close to what I’m going through. I got to give the man credit though. All it takes is me brushing against his cock and he’s ready to go.

Maddie suggested to him that we christen each room in the house. I can say we’ve gone above and beyond, along with the garden, the garages, the gazebo, and anywhere else he can safely lay me down or bend me over.

I am lying on the bed with Tristan watching a movie. He’s rubbing his hand across the small baby belly I’ve sprouted, making me feel like one of those Buddha statues.

I joke as he continues to rub, “You know if you’re trying get lucky, I don’t think your rubbing in the right place.”

“No? Are you sure about that,” he teases, before running his hand down my side.

I still to stifle the giggle, but it’s too late. The twinkle in his eye tells me I’m done for as he straddles my legs to hold me down then starts tickling my sides. I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe. My chest is heaving and my stomach is full of butterflies. When I warn him if he doesn’t stop that I might pee myself, he climbs back off of me and just as he lays his hand back on my stomach, he feels it. A huge smile comes across his face as the skin moves and pushes against his palm.

“I guess rubbing that bump you’ve got growing is lucky,” he says before placing a kiss on the spot he felt the kick.

Chapter 21

Tristan

I’m very excited for today as I will be meeting my baby. Well not really, but I will get a picture, and we find out if Bentley is carrying a boy or a girl. I’m kind of on the fence. On one hand, I really want a boy. Someone I can teach all of the things my father never taught me. On the other, I’m in love with the idea of a mini Bentley. I know if it’s a girl she’s going to be a gorgeous little angel. I just hope I get a few years before she’s sassing me like her mother.

I know it’s probably strange to admit, but I love the little bump that Bentley is sporting. Something about knowing that it houses a part of her and me makes it sexy as fuck, and I can’t seem to keep my hands off of her. By the doctor's last calculations, she’s fourteen weeks, and it’s mid June. At the moment, I feel like I’m paving a road of nothing but good intentions as I try to rush through everything I want done.

Today though, I’m not rushing. Today, I’m going to listen to our baby’s heartbeat. Bentley is finally starting to feel better in the mornings and I take that as a good sign. I was starting to worry that she’d be sick through her whole pregnancy.

We step into the doctor’s office and Bentley hands the girl her card again. The girl looks me up and down with a frown before addressing Bentley. ‘Will your husband be joining you for your ultrasound?” she asks.

I watch Bentley look up at her in confusion before turning to look at me, before looking back at the girl and replying. “He’s not my husband, but yes, he will be joining me.”

I notice as the girl behind the counter perks up at the news, and now it’s my turn to frown. I haven’t even considered if it bothers Bentley that she’s having this baby out of wedlock. Not that it actually matters as I have no intention of her having this baby before she has my name.

Bentley doesn’t say anything as we wait for the doctor to call her name. Once we’re back in the room, a nurse sets up the ultrasound machine. She is explaining how it works as she rubs this jelly stuff across Bentley’s stomach. Bentley lies back and stares at the screen. I want to know if she’s okay, but the only assurance I get is her squeezing and releasing my hand as I go to hold it.

The ultrasound technician is rubbing a wand through the jelly as she talks. “First, I’m going to listen to the baby’s heartbeat,” she explains. When she lands on the spot that’s loudest, I almost break down in tears. There is our baby with a little
tha-thump tha-thump
. “The heartbeat is faster than what you're use to hearing with your own heartbeat, but it’s completely normal.” She assures us while moving the wand around more. I watch as she takes different measurements and shows us different angles of the baby. She tells us how the limbs are all present and forming normally. Then she turns to us and asks the one question I have been waiting to hear. “Would you like to know the gender of your baby?” she asks, looking in Bentley’s direction. Bentley never takes her eyes off of the screen though, so I reply with a curt nod letting her know we would.

I watch as she rubs the wand at another angle then clicks the mouse to seize the image. She focuses and points to what looks like nothing more than a void to me. “Congratulations, it looks like you’re having a baby girl,” she states. It’s the first time in my adult life I recall shedding a tear, but hearing that our baby is healthy; that Bentley is carrying a baby girl, is one of the most emotional moments in my life.

The girl hands us a few images before giving Bentley a tissue to wipe the jelly off. She replies with a simple thank you, but still doesn’t say anything more as we make the next appointment. She doesn’t even notice the girl behind the counter trying to slip me her number. It isn’t until we exit the building that she lets out a breath that I didn’t notice she was holding.

I walk around the car and open the door so she can get in. As she adjusts the seat buckle, I place a kiss on top of her head then secure the door before going to the driver’s side. I have several thoughts running through my head but I’m not sure which is safe to mention aloud. I don’t know if she is having a good day emotionally or not, and I don’t want to provoke her by saying the wrong thing. As I go to open my mouth though she breaks the silence.

“I guess we should start considering girls names,” she says softly.

I hate the way she says it, because to me what it came out sounding like is ‘I think you should consider girls names.’ It’s like she’s separating herself from the baby, from us. I can’t fight the sick feeling that she’s only having this baby for me, that I’m forcing this on her as well. Instead of assuming that’s what she meant though, I pose the question back to her.

“Are there any names that stick out at you for her, Bentley? I’m sure anything you come up with would be beautiful.”

I don’t know why I expect her to tell me no. So I’m pretty certain the wind is knocked out of me when she gives me her answer.

“I was thinking Audrey Iliana, but if you don’t like it we can name her something else,” she replies in that same soft tone.

It’s absolutely perfect, and I’m awestruck that she came up with it. Audrey is Aggie’s middle name, and Iliana was my mother's. The fact that she picked those names without me means more than she could ever know.

“It’s perfect, Bentley. Audrey Iliana Reece,” I say, rolling the name off my tongue.

I watch the smile form on her face and I know whatever was bothering her in that doctor’s office is fading away. When we get back to the house, Dante sweeps her away for lunch, and I wait patiently for the mail. Bentley ordered the proofs for the new book and I’ve been waiting for them to arrive.

She ordered three, but before she processed it, she had a stomach emergency and I added an extra one. Now I’m waiting for them to arrive so I can grab it before she notices. She hasn’t been too concerned with them arriving so when the package is sitting there on the table, I grab it.

It’s one less thing I’ll need to worry about before the signing. I already enlisted the help of the girl who makes her books to adjust this one to what I need it for. I had five weeks before my birthday to make everything perfect. And no matter what, it is going to be perfect.

I enlisted Mrs. Anders, Maddie, and Dante’s help in keeping her distracted. I know I’ll never pull this off alone, and with her feeling sick all the time it’s hard to get a moment in edgewise. Taking out my phone, I send Dante a quick text.

Package arrived. In contact now. Try keeping her out.

Even though she is only four months along, Bentley’s weary about being on her feet and away from the house. This past week, she had a scare and was told that she might end up spending her final trimester on bed rest. The news didn’t only make her miserable, it made her panic as well. I know if something does happen to the baby that it wouldn’t be her fault, but I can’t seem to convince her of that. She’s damn infuriating with her adamant belief that I’ll never forgive her if anything happens. I hate seeing her look so defeated. I’m distracted by my thoughts when the phone chimes in a few minutes later, letting me know I have some leeway to start putting things in motion.

Woman is eating her weight in sushi. I made sure she got the cooked kind. She said the doctor told her she could have some fish, but I doubt he meant enough to feed a fleet of sumo wrestlers!

I laugh out at his comment. If Bentley saw him compare her to a sumo wrestler I’m pretty sure she’d belly bump him on his ass. She is getting pretty big though, but from her weigh in at doctor's office, she has only gained a couple pounds since her six week visit. The doctor said since she’s carrying a girl we should expect her stomach to be rather large, something about carrying high for girls and low for boys. I didn’t understand a fucking word of it, but she seemed to. I send him a text back knocking her some more. I know I’ll get my ass handed to me as well if he lets her see it.

Maybe you should take her shopping for some of those stretchy maternity pants, so she stops trying to squeeze her ass into those skinny jeans she wears.

I ignore the next message ding as I log onto my laptop and send out emails to those I need to help me with my project. I don’t know how long it will take, but I only have five weeks to get everything done and perfected.

Bentley

Dante insists after the doctor’s appointment that we go to lunch. I don’t really feel too hot, and the doctor said since I’m spotting that I should keep off my feet as much as possible. He refuses to take no for an answer, so I punish him with sushi. Dante can’t stomach the smell of fish, let alone the taste of it.

He’s laughing at whatever texts he’s receiving, and refuses to let me see them myself.  He and Tristan are even more buddy, buddy lately and I feel like they were conspiring against me. He confirms my suspicions when he looked up from his phone.

“Tristan says you need to stop trying to fit your ever growing ass into those skinny jeans before you pop a button and take someone’s eye out,” he teases.

I act offended by his remark and gasp in mock horror as I reply, “I'll have you know that my jeans fit just fine. I just have to wear them lower than this belly I’ve got going on. And if Tristan is so offended by my growing ass, he can kiss it and fuck off.”

He laughs before going back to his phone and typing out another message, then looks back up at me. “Are you sure you don’t want to go shopping for some maternity clothes? Pretty soon you’ll be flashing everyone your belly and boobs. As if those bad boys weren’t big enough before, those monsters could knock someone the hell out now, Baby Girl.”

I consider what he says, taking it into consideration. I really have been putting it off. I don’t want to be one of those women who stops giving a shit about what they wear just because she’s pregnant. I’ve been hoping I wouldn’t have to convert to stretchy fabrics until after the signing, but at least I’ll still be able to wear my maxi dresses.

We spend the next two hours skipping from store to store with the occasional break to rest my feet and several bathroom stops to make sure the spotting isn’t getting worse. After confirming that I’m still okay, we head into another store. I try on more clothes in that short span of time than I think I have throughout the rest of my life. No two pieces of clothing fit the same and it seems like most are limited to khaki or black.

Dante holds up the most offending piece of clothing I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I shoot him a look that tells him I’d kill him if he suggests it again.

“You can wear it around the house,” he suggests.

“No way in hell are you ever going to catch me in a Mumu.  Over my dead body, Bitch Boy. You like it so much, let’s see you parade around the house in that shit.”

I end up leaving the store with three baggy shirts and two pairs of pants I’m sure I could fit at least two other people in. And I’m pretty sure somewhere in one of those bags is that heinous garment that Dante was holding up.

Chapter 22

Tristan

It’s a week before my birthday and Bentley has been spending hours on something in the kitchen. I plan to keep her company and lighten the mood. Instead I say something that sets her off as she slams the knife in her hand down onto the counter and looks up at me.

“If you say so much as one more word, I swear on all things holy, I will slice off your manhood, grind it into sloppy joe and serve you that shit for dinner.”

I laugh at her as I reply, “You wouldn’t do that, you’re as attached to my dick as I am.”

I think I’m being cute, but she storms out of the room, leaving me standing here like an idiot. I’m about to go apologize, but before I can, I get a crack against the side of my head. Turning around I find a very pissed off Dante.

“What the fuck did you say to her? That poor girl has been slaving away in this kitchen to make your birthday dinner. She’s been on the phone with Aggie for hours making sure she gets every step right since it takes days to make whatever fucking dish it is that Aggie makes you. And you have to come in here and antagonize her,” he bitches.

“I swear, Dante, I was just teasing her. She was concentrating so hard on cutting that onion; I thought she’d pop a blood vessel. I was just trying to lighten the mood,” I answer sheepishly.

“Lighten the mood. How exactly is picking on an already overly self-conscious pregnant woman lightening the mood?” Pointing at the knife, he continues, “You’re lucky she didn’t stab your ass, Baby Cakes. If that was me you were poking at, I’d have filleted your ass raw!”

Holding my hands up in surrender, I back up slowly. “I get it. I’ll go find her and apologize.”

“Like hell you will. The only thing you’re going to tell that woman is what the fuck you want for your birthday. She’s been off her rocker nuts, asking everyone within shouting distance what the fuck to get you. It’s bad enough she feels like shit that you always seem to know exactly what she would want. Don’t make her feel any fucking worse about it. Put her and us out of our fucking misery and give the woman a hint.”

I look up at Dante like he’s insane. Why would Bentley be making such a big deal over nothing? I told her straight up I don’t want anything. She already gave me the only thing I could ask for when she upped her release date and agreed to attend the signing.

“Dante, I don’t want anything from her from my birthday. At least not something she can buy, or make,” I say, motioning to the food on the counter.

“That isn’t good enough. She’s not going to not get something for you just because you tell her not to. She’s a woman. Everything has a double meaning. If she said that to you and you did nothing, you wouldn’t have an ass left once she was done chewing it off.”

“I’m serious though, Dante. What I want from her isn’t something she can do,” I lean in close so I can’t be overheard. “It’s what she can say,” I whisper, while looking down at the small box I pulled from my pocket.

Dante gasps, then covers his mouth while trying to hide his excitement. “You’re planning to ask her again? Well not really again since you never got the chance the first time, since she took off and all. I assume when you say all she can give you is…you’re hoping she says yes. When are you doing this? I want to be there, I need to see her face,” he replies in excitement.

“I have it all planned out. All she needs to do is show up for the book signing, and yes I’m hoping she says yes. Otherwise I’m going to look like a fucking idiot in front of hundreds of people.

I swear Dante to secrecy, which is no easy feat since the man has absolutely no self-control.  If he had free reign, I’m sure everyone within a five hundred mile radius would know what I’m planning.

I spend the next four days trying to avoid pissing Bentley off. I have almost succeeded until she comes downstairs wearing the ugliest thing I had ever seen.

“Would you please tell Dante that this is not attractive,” she pleads.

I didn’t know if this is one of the moments where I should be honest, or lie and tell her no matter what she wears she’ll be beautiful. The truth is this thing makes her look like an overstuffed cow, and the black and white animal spots aren’t helping. I guess in hindsight I should have just done as she asked, but instead I try flattery.

“Baby, that looks beautiful on you.” I say, trying to sound as sincere as possible. I’m trying to be endearing but the pained expression on my face likely gives me away.

“Don’t patronize me, asshole. I know I look like something that belongs is a fucking hay field. Is it really too hard for you to just be honest and tell the fucking idiot that I look like a heifer? Why anyone would want to walk around looking like a fucking moo cow is beyond me,” she screeches with exasperation as she storms back out of the room.

Instead of going after her to apologize, I go and hunt Dante down. I find him watching a movie with a guy I recognize, but can’t place.

Tearing into the room I point accusingly at him. “What the fuck were you thinking?” I criticize. “What the hell is that thing you talked Bentley into wearing? She looks like a fucking farm animal. Don’t…” I say cutting him off. “Don’t tell me you think she looks fine. She looks like a hot fucking mess and now she feels like one too. You better get your ass out there and fix this, because I will not have her tear her closet apart again just because her self-image is taking a beating. Fix it!” I said as I stalk back out of the room.

Bentley

I feel like I’m constantly being made the butt of everyone’s jokes lately, and the doctor doesn’t think it’s healthy for me or the baby to be sparring. So instead, I take off for a couple of hours each day and practice Tai-Chi. It doesn’t help with my increasing violent tendencies, but it does help me relax.

I haven’t told Tristan, but I started seeing a therapist to help me get over the shit with Darla. I’m not embarrassed of him knowing, I just don’t want him to be disappointed if she’s unable to help me. The truth is I’m still terrified I’ll be a horrible mother and I need someone other than him to understand my fears. The lady I’m seeing is very understanding and doesn’t mind when I go off on a profanity fueled tangent.

We’ve made a lot of progress and while Tristan was out with Dante the night before, I took the first step towards getting over one of my fears. I didn’t fully accomplish it, but I did manage to sit on the ledge of the tub with the water up to the middle of my thighs. I got nervous a couple of times and considered getting back out, but once I calmed down and reminded myself no one else’s around, it wasn’t too bad. It’s not much I know, I’m attempting everything in baby steps, so next time I’ll try lowering myself enough for the water to settle around my waist.

I have been keeping myself busy with my book release so that I’m not dwelling on all of the things worrying me. I damn near lost it over Tristan’s birthday dinner. Thank some lucky stars I have Maddie here to finish what I’ve started, otherwise the whole thing would have been ruined. She’s going to heat it up when I let her know we’re on our way back from the signing so that it’s ready when we get home.

It’s a small relief but it doesn’t alleviate my anxiety. I’m still at a loss on what to buy for him, and if he tells me one more time he wants nothing, I’m going to stab him with the sharpest kitchen utensil I can find, which right about now is the barbeque fork.

A few days before Tristan’s birthday, Cage comes through for me, and just as I’m about to explode. Apparently, Tristan has always wanted to spend a weekend at a casino in Vegas. So I book a trip for Cage and him and have an allowance added to the room so he doesn’t have to spend his own money to gamble with. Cage figures he’ll back out if he knows about it so instead of telling him, Cage is just going to drag is ass to the airport next weekend. He already has a bag with the shit he’ll need stowed away, so the only thing he’ll have to do is get Tristan in the car.

Tristan and Cage get home the day before the signing, and neither speaks of what happened. I know the whole what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas bullshit, but I thought they would at least say they had fun. Instead neither of them speaks, as they give each other a nod and head in different directions. 

The next morning Tristan loads the car with my books, swag, banners and other things I will need for the signing. He insists I not lift a finger, so instead I sit in the car with my ever expanding belly. I swear in these past few weeks it has doubled in size. I told Tristan the night before that I really miss being able to see my feet. He thought I was joking until I almost fell down the steps because I couldn’t see where they were.

When we get to the event, I have to slap several wandering hands away from me as they try to rub my belly. While I joke with Tristan about it being like the Buddha’s, some people actually believe it is lucky to rub the hell out of it. I on the other hand find it to be creepy and utterly inappropriate. I’m about to lose my shit when some random stranger walks up behind me and starts groping it. Just as I’m about to flip the fuck out though, Dante appears out of nowhere to let the lady know in no uncertain words just how tasteless her actions are.

Several guys that Tristan knows stop to congratulate him. Tristan is in his glory as he tells everyone how we are expecting a baby girl. I raise my eyebrow and tease him a few times when he says slips up and says he’s expecting. He has just slipped again when he catches himself and looks over at me. I laugh at him and shake my head. “You know for someone who only had to do a few minutes’ worth of work, you sure are making big claims. In fact, if I remember correctly, you can’t even call what you did work. Now if you somehow want to trade places with me and carry her around yourself, then you can by all means take credit for making this baby. Otherwise I’m pretty sure it’s me that’s expecting, since I’m the one she’s growing inside of, and I’m the one who in a few months from now will be delivering her,” I tease.

“Your right darling,” he snickers. “But I’ll be the one sitting by your side as you do everything in your power to crush every bone in my hand and call me everything imaginable under the sun. And I’ll still love you more than anything else in this world,” he smirks before planting a chaste kiss on my lips.

“Don’t you try to sweet talk me, Buddy,” I joke. “I know the only reason you’re sticking around is so you can be wrapped around her little finger. Don’t think I don’t notice how you call her daddy’s little girl. She’s not even here yet, and you’re already trying to conspire against me.”

He laughs at me as I pretend to pout, and gently lifts my chin so I‘m looking up into his eyes. “I won’t lie and say I don’t already love her. But how can I not, when you made her? You will always be number one in my life, Bentley, she’ll just be coming in at a really close second, or maybe one and a half.”

Now it was my turn to swoon. The man is adorably ridiculous, and he always knows what to say to my heart want to pound out of my chest.

“Tristan, you aren’t actually supposed to determine who is more important. I’m not bothered by the fact that you love her, it’s what you’re meant to do. I don’t need your undivided attention. I just need you,” I admit.

The next hour is filled with signing both new and older books, taking pictures, and meeting the amazing people who enjoy my writing. I lose track of Tristan at some point and don’t see him again until everything is winding down.

He gives me his trademark sexy smirk, and hands me a book. “Can you sign this one for me, Baby?”

I look up at him and wonder what he’s playing at. I can’t think of any reason he’d want a signed book from me, or why he would choose here to ask for it. Nonetheless, I take the book from his hand and grab a pen. The cover shows the book I just released. The only problem is I haven’t received the printed copies of it yet.

I open the cover to the book, but I don’t recognize anything inside of it. As I flip the page I see my title,
The Story of Us
, but that’s it. I flip through a couple more pages and they are all blank. Turning the next page, on the left is the picture of my sonogram. I look over to the right and instead of seeing my chapter marker, I see my name. I start to read the page in curiosity, wondering what I’m looking at.

Bentley

I can remember the moment I saw her. She was standing at the counter with her hair a mess of melting snowflakes and water droplets. I was so enamored that I wasn’t watching where I was going and slammed right into her.

When she looked up at me, I was instantly lost in the vast sea of green and gold that hid behind her water speckled glasses. Her eyes were mesmerizing. When she opened her mouth, I was graced with a tongue lashing by the sweetest sounding voice I’d ever heard.

It was in that very moment that I knew I was in love. I knew right away that the woman in front of me was my destiny. I learned just how tragic her life has been, and how hard she’s fought to have a future.

I knew early on the chances were pretty good that this woman would break my heart. She proved me right, but not in the way I’d expected. I never understood what it meant to have to fight for love until fighting was my only option.

Bentley taught me what it meant to love someone unconditionally. What it meant to lose everything.  When she walked away from me, she left me with everything, and nothing at the same time. I knew I would never survive the rest of my life without her by my side.