Bo & Ember (16 page)

“Why?”

“We haven’t really discussed how we’re handling our money. In California we just split the bills and we didn’t have that many to begin with. I’m … I don’t know. I guess I’m uncomfortable with you paying for everything for this renovation. Some of the things he’s talking about are going to carry a big price tag.” My palms began to sweat.

I hated talking about money because everyone got weird about it. Furthermore, I was on socially uneven ground. My parents and their friends never dealt with money the same way the rest of the world did. There were work exchanges, co-ops, etc. So, really, I didn’t know what was acceptable. All grant writing taught me was how to discuss money on a corporate level. I was at a loss here.

Bo wiped down the counter, closed the dishwasher, and started it. “Look, Ember, I don’t know what to tell you. We have projects we want to do on the house, so we’ll get them done.

“Right, but we didn’t discuss a
budget
. ‘Whatever’ isn’t a budget. What if I wanted to help pay?”

“This is ridiculous. What’s mine is yours, what’s yours is mine.” Bo began pacing in circles through the kitchen.

“Okay, well, if what’s yours is mine, did it occur to you to discuss
how
we’d be spending
our
money? What if we wanted to save for trips, or kids, or college, or—”

Bo stopped pacing and put his hands on his hips. “What aren’t you understanding, Ember? I can’t take it with me when I go. There will always be plenty. Trust me.”

I stuck out my hands. “That’s the other thing. I don’t even
know
how much you … have. God, I hate this conversation.”

Without a word, Bo exited the kitchen through the back hallway. I heard the shuffling of papers in his office, and then he returned holding a thick, bound folder. He tossed it to the table, where it landed with a loud thump.

“There.” He gestured to the table.

“What’s that?”

“My net worth. Open it. It’s yours. I’m not keeping secrets from you.”

I sighed heavily. Annoyed. “I never said you were keeping secrets from me.”

His eyes bugged out as his voice rose slightly. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I just want to be consulted!” I shouted. Not angrily, but we were clearly talking past each other and it was annoying.

“About what?” he shouted back. “It’s my house, for God’s sake. If I wanted to tear the thing down and rebuild it, I would.”

I cocked my head to the side, my tone reaching angry. “I thought you said it was
our
house.”

I could literally feel my hormones spinning out of control. I was hot and cold at the same time.

“It is. Unless you’re going to be a stubborn ass.” He cocked his eyebrow and a small grin twitched at the corner of his mouth.

I began to grin, despite trying to remain serious. “Did you just call me an ass?”

Bo sighed and paced slowly toward me, extending his hands to take mine. “Come … sit with me for a second.”

Bo led me by the hand out the back hallway and into the grand living room. I eyed the large fireplace with the stone facade and briefly wished for a cozy winter night and a roaring fire. Bo sat on the oversized leather love seat and I plunked next to him.

“Okay,” he took another deep breath before continuing, “I need to explain something. And this is hard for me, but I need you to hear me.”

I nodded, tightening my grip on his hand.

He smiled and shook his head. “I’m sorry for behaving so indifferently about the money. This is something I’m still adjusting to. All the money.”

“I thought your family always had money.” From everything Bo had told me, and my own research early on of DROP and Bo himself, I was led to believe he’d always had a charmed life.

“They did. My
family
did. When I graduated from college, I was granted my share of the trust fund. I used some of it to help with the groundwork of DROP and was going to take the rest of it to build my own business.”

I’d never talked to Bo about what his intentions were besides DROP. It was so much a part of him and what he did, that we rarely talked about anything else business wise. And, once the music took over, that’s the only business we ever discussed.

“What did you want to do?”

Bo pointed to the floor. “Music. Truly. That’s why I had that studio built a couple years ago. I’d been scoping out warehouse space before my parents died. Then, I was able to remodel the basement. DROP took up a lot of my time, sure, but music was something I wanted to do. I knew I wanted to play or produce…” Bo kept his hopeful grin as he looked to the ceiling.

“Were your parents supportive of your music interests?” I relaxed my standoffish position of crossed arms and legs and curled myself into Bo’s body.

“They were. My mom was an easier sell, as I suppose most moms are. But, when my dad saw that it wasn’t just about performing, that I was focused on all aspects of the industry, he gave me a firm pat on the shoulder and told me that he knew I’d make him proud no matter what.” Bo cleared his throat and rested his chin on the top of my head.

“So—”

Bo cut me off before I could finish my sentence. “My point is, Em, that the reason I have all of this money is because my whole family is gone. That’s the only reason I have as much as I do. I want us to be able to have a fresh start. Investing in a property is rarely a bad move—why not just take the money and do it?”

I lifted my chin and looked him in the eyes. He had a peaceful look on his face that was no doubt a struggle for him to maintain, given the gravity of this discussion. “I get it. I’m sorry. I just want us to be really careful and make sure we’re making decisions as a team, you know?”

Bo tightened his arms around me. “I know and
I’m
sorry. I thought I was just doing something nice without realizing how you might feel about it.”

“A bracelet is nice, Bo. An entire house renovation? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?” I chuckled when he did.

“You’re right. So, we’ll talk about the numbers I discussed with Tyler, and then we’ll make a plan for how we’re going to handle everything from now on. Deal?”

“Deal.”

I leaned back and stretched my arms overhead, ready to head back to the kitchen. When I stood, Bo stopped me.

“Hey, Ember?”

“Yeah?” I turned back around and watched him stand with a foolish grin on his face.

“What you said earlier about kids and college, and all of that … is that what you really want?” He rested his hands on my hips, and suddenly I wanted him naked on the couch.

I restrained myself. Smiling, I answered, “It is. I want things with you I never even considered before. A music career, kids … what have you done to me?” I lifted on my toes and kissed his taut jawline.

“Made an honest woman out of you,” he teased, bringing back his sitcom actor voice.

I smacked his chest and returned to the kitchen. Bo followed, opening up the fridge and grabbing a beer.

The walls were closing in on Baby O’clock, and I was chickening out. The man was my husband, for God’s sake. I don’t know exactly what I was afraid of. Still, another subject change seemed in order.

“Oh, by the way,” I started slyly. “I have something I’ve been wanting to ask you for months.”

“Great,” Bo deadpanned as he opened his beer.

“The night we met Yardley, you made a comment to Willow, when you asked about how she handled her money. You said something about wondering if she was serious or playing with her parents' money, and joked that you knew a little about both.” I turned, raising my eyebrows in question, but Bo didn’t bite.

“And?” he teased.

I took the dishtowel and smacked his arm. “Come on. What’d you mean you knew about both? You seem so focused about money. Did you ever fool around with it?”

Bo rubbed his arm. “You’re awfully abusive tonight, you know.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Bo took a swig of his beer and got a mischievous look in his eyes. “I was twenty-two. What do you want from me?”

“What’d you do?” I was dying to hear about the irresponsible side of my straight-laced husband.

“Oh, you know,” he held out his hands and looked to the sky, “bought stuff. Like … a car, and a jet ski … and a snowmobile. And a cottage up on the lake.”

My jaw had never dropped so low in my life as it did in that moment. “Bo! Are you serious?”

“Hey,” he said, mock-defensively, “I sold that cottage three years later and almost doubled my investment.”

I twisted my eyebrows in horror. “You did that all in one year?”

Bo nearly choked on his beer. “Like six months, but, yeah, close enough.”

I shook my head disapprovingly as I walked through the dining room and climbed the stairs to the bedroom. Bo followed. “Your parents must have
shit
.”

“Yep. They did. Oh, my dad was
so
pissed. I was called into his office and given a total ass-reaming. How he’d taught me better than that … you know … parent stuff.” Once in the bedroom, Bo set the beer bottle down on the dresser as he undressed, taking his time to watch me undress, too.

I tossed my clothes in the hamper and slid into a black slinky number that always drove him crazy. “What’d your mom say?”

Bo shrugged and tenderness overcame his face. “She just rolled her eyes and told me to get my act together.”

We crawled into bed and situated ourselves as we did every night. Bo held out his arm so I could lay my head on his chest, and he closed his warm arm around me, pulling me in even closer.

“Well, I’m glad you got all of that out of your system.” I yawned and kissed his bare chest.

Bo’s fingers skimmed the skin around my shoulders, driving
me
crazy. “I just want to give you a heads up. I’m calling Dr. Bittman in the morning.” He reached for the side table light and clicked it off.

My heart skipped a beat as I sat straight up. “Turn it back on.”

“What?” He sounded panicked as light filled the room again.

“Is everything okay?” I’d never met Dr. Bittman before, but I’d heard plenty about her after Rae died. David Bryson had told me Bo was in her care again, just as he’d been after his parents died. I knew he’d seen someone when we first got to California, but I’d always associated Dr. Bittman with tragedy.

Bo sat up and took my hand, kissing my knuckles and giving me a reassuring smile. “Everything’s fine, love. And, I want to keep it that way. The past two weeks have been harder on me emotionally than I thought they would be. Hell, I didn’t give much thought to it.” He twisted his lips and leaned his head back almost as if he were disappointed in himself.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I knew something was off with you, but I didn’t want to get into a huge pow-wow about it because I knew we had a lot going on. Moving, renovating, recording…”

I couldn’t tell him. Not yet. I’d planned to, but the weight of what he was already dealing with emotionally was too heavy. My body wouldn’t let me hold it in anymore, though. My chin began to quiver, and I tried to hide it by shifting my position. That worked for about five seconds before my nose began to tingle. Then, the eyes. They filled so high with water that Bo became a blurry blob of color within seconds.

“Ember?” Bo shifted, sitting up and placing his hands on my shoulders.

I shook my head while I tried to force a smile. The tears that spilled down my cheeks and over the corners of my mouth ruined my planned facade, though. “It’s fine,” I managed through whisper.

“You’re freaking me out, Em. What is it?”

I could barely hear my own voice as blood rushed through my ears, leaving me feeling dizzy.

“I’m pregnant.”

Bo

I
’m pregnant.

That’s what she said. Right?

Before she could take a breath, she collapsed into a sobbing mess against my shoulder.

“What? Ember. What? Wait. What?” I knew she likely couldn’t hear me over the volume of her cry, but I had to try to get some straight answers.

“I just … I’m so sorry. The timing is—“ she cut off again in a loud wail.

I shifted and pushed gently on her shoulders, forcing her to sit up.

“Ember,” a smile cracked through the corners of my mouth, “did you say you’re pregnant?”

Her eyes met mine and they were filled with thick tears. Her cheeks were red, and I put together signs I should have paid attention to all along. I knew I’d been difficult over the past few weeks, but she truly did seem overly sensitive—even for her. I chalked it up to the stress of the move, and everything else she’d told me was bothering her.

Apart from that was her restless sleep. Ember usually slept sounder than any person I’d met, but over the last two weeks, she tossed and turned most nights. But, most importantly, there was a true glow coming from her over the past few days. Despite the winter settling around us, her cheeks were permanently rosy and her skin was extra flawless.

Her apparent sadness in front of me was baffling.

“Em?” I brought my hand to her face and ran my thumb across her lips.