Ending with Forever (17 page)

Chapter 19
Carson Bradley

L
il’s knees haven’t stopped twitching nervously since we stepped into the limo. She appears on edge. I have a feeling she’s hiding something from me again. I don’t know what it is yet, but mark my word, nothing is impassable between us. I always have a way of finding out. Honestly, am I that unapproachable? Why does she have such a difficult time opening up to me?

“Babe, my parents would like for us to come over for dinner sometime this week. What day will work for you?” I ask, reeling her preoccupied mind back to me.

“Huh? What did you say?” she responds. It must be serious. She’s so far gone that she didn’t even hear a word I said. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind instead?” I insist, reaching for her hand which is clammy and warm—a sure indication that something’s really troubling her.

“I was thinking about my appointment with Dr. Laurent.”

“What about it?” I press, staring directly into her eyes so she can’t evade the truth.

“What time is he coming?”

“You’re avoiding my question, Lil.” I emphasize, impatient at this point.

“I’m not,” she denies innocently.

“Pardon me, Mr. Bradley,” Rollin interrupts, saving Lil from my clutch. “We’re here. Luke texted. You’re both cleared to go upstairs.”

“Damn it,” I snip. “Tell him we’re on our way,” I bark and then regret that it came out more tersely than I intended. Rollin doesn’t deserve to be in my line of fire. He’s a kind man who’s been driving my ass around for years, taking all kinds of shit from me, depending on my unpredictable mood.

“Yes, sir,” he replies, maintaining his professionalism as always.

“Was that necessary?” Lil points out with an exasperated sigh. “The attitude.” She tilts her head in Rollin’s direction.

“No, it wasn’t. My apologies, Rollin,” I offer, shocking the hell out of both of them. Past the corners of my eyes I can see the tight, thin creases of Rollin’s lips curl upward in the rear mirror while Lil fights back her emerging smile. “Is that better?” I smirk.

“Much,” she answers. “Let’s see if we can improve that attitude of yours even more upstairs.” She shoos me out the limo and follows behind me. “Thank you, Rollin. Have a great rest of the evening,” she turns back to tell him.

“You’re welcome, Miss Ly,” he replies buoyantly, beaming a smile through his well-groomed, gray mustache. “You have a wonderful evening as well,” he winks at her, catching me off guard. I wonder what the familiarity between them is all about.

We step into the elevator and I corner her with my six-foot-two frame, caging her body with my arms. “Talk to me, Lil. Tell me what’s bothering you,” I insist as the doors seal us in. “We should be able to talk to each other about anything.”

She looks at me, eyes confident, and replies, “What makes you think something’s bothering me?” Her hands come up to my neck, loosens the knot of my tie, slides it off and tucks it into her coat pocket. “I might be happily distracted,” she implies as her fingers return to release the top two buttons of my collar shirt. Her lips press against my bare skin, sheathing my artery that’s pulsing for her. “I love the way you smell,” she exhales after respiring my scent into her system. She’s getting really good at baiting me.

“My bad. I didn’t see the glass half-full. Thanks for enlightening my pessimistic side.” I concede and lean down to kiss her, but she places her index and middle fingers over my lips to stop me.

The bell chimes. “Hold that thought, hazel eyes. We’re here.” The elevator doors slide open and she grabs my hand, tugging to hasten me through the wine cellar. Before heading up the spiral staircase, she turns to me and suggests, “Why don’t you choose something special for tonight?”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Dinner with my favorite guy,” she answers cheekily.

“Red or white?”

“Whatever excites your taste buds,” she grins. “But don’t take all night, I like my cuddle time.”

Feeling a little indulgent, I walk underneath the staircase and enter an obscured room that houses ten of the most expensive vintage wine bottles I’ve amassed over the years. Each bottle is encased in its protective storage compartment. I choose Château Margaux 2009. I bought it in France after having an impressive tour of the vineyard and cellars and a private dinner cooked by a highly reputable chef.

“Are you ready yet?” Lil hollers impatiently from outside the room.
What’s her rush?

“Yes,” I holler back and grip the bottle by its slender neck. “I’m coming.”

Grabbing my free hand, she rushes us up the stairs, winding our way to the top. “Do you mind?” She asks me to open the concealed door to the pantry.

“You’re very jumpy today. What’s going on, Lil?” I ask and then see my answer as soon as we exit the pantry and kitchen. Balloons—pink and blue—float all over the living room, claiming the entire open space. Her surprise hits me so hard that I almost drop the vintage bottle out of my hand, shattering it into a million pieces on the mosaic marble floor. So this is what she’s been trying to keep from me.
I’m going to be a dad?
How long has she known about it? That goofy grin that I couldn’t seem to shake off earlier is back on my face again, but I don’t give a shit.
We’re going to have a baby.
The delightful news is more than my chest can handle. For a change, happiness is overfilling the brim of my heart instead of misery. This is much more mind-blowing than the slice of heaven I told Hayden about. Lowering the bottle down by my feet, I pull Lil, who’s been silently observing my reaction, into my arms. “Angel, I hope this means what I think it does.”

Pursing her lips tightly, she nods. “Yes, I’m pregnant,” she whispers.

“When did you find out? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? How do you feel? Can I do anything for you?” I spring question upon question without giving her a chance to answer any of them and then lift her up in a reveling spin, celebrating.

Gripping the lapel of my jacket she replies in a playful tone. “Easy there, baby daddy. I just found out earlier today.”

“And you’re just telling me now?” I ask like she’s kept the news from me for months.

“Come with me,” she insists, tugging at my hand. I follow her into the living room, zigzagging through vertical silk ribbons suspended from the helium balloons with labels attached to them. Curious about the writings on the tags, I flip one over and read it.
Clarity-bright and shining
. I flip another one.
Liam-resolute protection
. Lil has written names, boys and girls, and their meanings on each one—what a clever idea and a “Lillian” thing to do. “Did you find a favorite yet?” she asks, smiling under a pink heart-shaped balloon, the only one in the throng.

“How do I choose? There are so many good choices.” I weave my way to her, parting the strings with my hands as if I’m trekking through a jungle of wild vines. My prize at the end of the quest is my beautiful fiancée. “Have I told you how happy you make me?” I ask with my arms around her waist. She shakes her head while biting down on her lower lip to impede an emerging smile that’s dying to overtake her mouth. “I’m very happy,” I stress. Tracing my thumb along her bottom lip, I persuade it to slacken. “No more waiting. I’m marrying you as soon as possible, baby momma,” I tell her in a trifling tone and then seal my promise with an intense kiss. Enfolding her lower and then upper lips between mine, I savor our intimacy, our passion. Willingly, she accepts every sensation I offer her, pulling me into her, tasting me, and running her fingers through my hair.  

Finally, she backs away for a much-needed breath and argues, “But…,”

“No buts. I can’t wait any longer. I want you mine now,” I declare and then drop down to my knees to kiss her belly, my baby. “Your mommy will be a Bradley by the end of this week,” I tell my son or daughter.

Lillian Ly

Carson welcomed my baby surprise with an open heart like I hoped he would. “Your mommy will be a Bradley by the end of this week,” he whispered into my belly, making me chuckle internally. I wasn’t going to be given a choice this time. We will be married this weekend and that was the end of the discussion. I decided this was one battle I wasn’t going to win. I gave into his demand and prepared myself to become Mrs. Carson
Ly
-Bradley. He’s sorely mistaken if he thinks I’m going to completely lose my identity to his over-sized name.

Dr. Laurent stopped by as soon as I broke the news to Carson, entering through a field of helium balloons. He appeared amused but refrained from mentioning them in conversation, keeping everything very professional. Distracted by all the excitement, both Carson and I had failed to cancel the appointment. As always, he was gracious and his bedside manners were impeccable even though he had to make an unnecessary trip over to the penthouse. My blood was drawn and the specimen was sealed in a special metal case to take back to the lab. Carson insisted that he contact him with the results tomorrow as soon as it’s been processed and tested.
Once a control freak, always a control freak
. I guess I’ll wait to hear from Carson to see what my blood test will reveal.

I’m confined to our bedroom as Carson prepares a celebration dinner for us. He thinks I already look drained and I need to kick my feet up. Before leaving the bedroom with Sugar and my four positive tests, he propped my back with three down pillows and my legs with one. Here we go again with the over-protective daddy thing. The mind is so moldable. Just an hour ago, I was strong and capable because he didn’t know I was pregnant and now, I’m fragile because I’m pregnant. I can’t imagine what he’ll be like when I actually have a baby bump protruding from my body. He’ll probably insist I wear protective gear around my belly. That idea might sound funny to most people but I wouldn’t put it past him.

To my advantage, I use this opportunity to search the web for information on Sasha. It’s not as easy of a task to locate Sasha Harris in Boston like I thought. There are a handful of them, but luckily I’m able to narrow down my search by locating her on LinkedIn as Bianca Sorté’s executive assistant for Sorté’s Trendz n Glitz. Most everything I need to know about her demographics is in there. I use that information to look her up on Whitepages and voila, I’ll be paying Sasha a visit tomorrow. Slyly, I tiptoe to the closet that Carson and I share to retrieve a piece of paper with Edison’s phone number. It’s a folded BPC stationary securely tucked under my sock drawer. Logically, I thought it would be the least likely place Carson would snoop around. I pull it out and add Sasha’s home address and number on it and slip it back in.

The chime of Carson’s text message startles me from outside the closet. I feel sneaky and guilty for doing this behind his back, but I need Bianca out of our life for good. Once I get a confession from Sasha, I’ll have Carson handle the legal stuff. I dash back into bed and resume my
fragile
state before picking up the burner phone to read his text.

Dinner’s almost ready. I’ll come get you soon. X C

I’m pregnant. My legs still work. I’ll see you out there;) XOX Lil

I reply and giggle to myself, imagining Carson’s overly dramatic reaction to my playful mocking.

You’re pregnant and MINE. Stay put! I’m coming. X C

He responds to my text and then appears at the bedroom entrance unexpectedly. “Lil, are you really going to take away my fun of spoiling my pregnant and very soon to be wife?” Carson asks as he moves in a prowling manner—slow, calculated and dangerous. Shaking my head, I shrink into the sinking pillows, wishing they’d swallow me in. This man is used to always having his way, being an only child as well a billionaire. It’s unlikely that I’ll be the one to put an end to his rotten habits. “Good girl. I’d hate to have to make another point,” he stresses, curling his lips up on one corner. I think he’s reminding me of my repercussions, so I don’t make the same mistake again and deprive him of his demands.

“No points needed. I’ll be an angel from now on,” I convince him with a cheeky grin.

“Somehow I find that hard to believe.” His eyes narrow at me, questioning my sincerity as he attempts to control his smiling, pursed lips.

“Somehow you’re probably right. I’m not one to be passive. What’s the fun in that?” I dare challenge him, knowing that he could either tickle or screw me to death.

“You’re lucky you’re pregnant or I’d have you on your knees again,
angel
,” he warns me. Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I want him to be gentle on me. In fact, I crave him in a needier way. I can’t get enough of his hard body and the pleasure he gives me. I hope he doesn’t slow down. “Let’s eat before I change my mind.” Offering me his hand, I place mine on top of his and slide off the bed to follow him into the kitchen.

Carson has a candlelit dinner of cheese pizza slices on fine china with two goblets, one with wine for him and the other with juice for me. This is a man after my own heart. He knows me so well. “You’re the best! I don’t care what Luke, Owen or Evelyn says about you.” I wink. “You’re the sweetest and most considerate.” I squeeze him. Pizza sounds so good right now. How did he read my mind? I’ve been craving it all day.

“Come. Have a seat,” he offers me, pulling the bar stool out. Sugar has a designated place on the island, too. He’s smiling at me, propped on top of a sparkling silver case. “It’s thick, not thin crust pizza.” He brings to my attention.

“What did I do to deserve thick crust?”

“You’re carrying my baby,” he grins.

“Maybe I’ll just have to get pregnant more often.”

“Maybe you’ll get all the pizza you want then,” he replies lightheartedly. “Dig in before it gets cold.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I devour the slice in four mouthfuls with gooey cheese strings hanging from each corner of my mouth.
Yum.
I must be hungrier than I thought. He watches me eat with amusement, admiring my big, unladylike bites. “Hold on. Don’t eat my fingers,” he tells me as he wipes the cheese off my chin with a devilish smirk. “I take it that you’re happy with my dinner choice.” I nod because my mouth is too full to speak politely. “After this next bite, I’d like for you to open the box under Sugar.”

“What is it?” I ask, excited and curious at the same time.

“Open it and see for yourself,” he encourages.

I lift Sugar up, hand him to Carson, and then reach for the jewelry case. “It better not be expensive,” I warn him. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at me. I flip the lid open and a gleam of the silvery bracelet reflects off my pupils. It’s so me—not extravagant and completely sentimental. The design around it is distinctive, intertwining vines that link together to form infinity symbols. “I love it. Did you come up with the motif yourself?” I’d be impressed if he did, but not surprised.

“Of course I didn’t. I’m a biochemist, not a jeweler,” he denies with a sly grin. He can’t fool me. This man is capable of anything when he puts his mind to it. Carson removes the bracelet and clasps it around my right wrist, next to Richard’s pink stone bracelet. I can’t believe that dainty thing is still with me. “It’s a perfect fit.” He admires his gift on me. “Just like my ring, promise me you won’t take it off.”

“Okay. I promise” I agree as I crisscross my index finger over my heart. I wonder why he’s making such a point for me to not remove his bracelet. Is it because I still have Richard’s? “This is my favorite gift from you, second to the baby.” I lean into his lips and press gingerly on them. “Thank you. I love you.”

“It can’t be more than I love you,” he retorts. “And you’re welcome to the baby.” Gosh, I adore that rare, mischievous face he bares only to me. If the world was also exposed to this endearing side of him, I’d have a lot more women to fight off than I already do. Giving me one last kiss he asks, “Are you done eating? I’m really tired. I need to hit the sack.” He throws his arms in the air to exaggerate a fake yawn. I know what he’s after and I’m all for it.

“Yes. I’m r-e-a-l-l-y tired, too.” I reenact his fake yawn with more exaggeration, dropping my head on his shoulder to enhance my melodrama.

“You’re a brat, Lil,” he tells me with his arms tethered around my shoulders.

“I’ll be your brat soon.” I reply in a spoiled voice.

“I can’t wait. I love you in all forms.”

~~~~

“Carson, wake up!” I yell, pulling him back to me. “You’re having another nightmare. You were screaming my name out this time.” Though dim, there’s enough evening light peeking through the sheer curtains for me to see his eyes are moist like he’s been crying. “What was it about?” I ask, desperate with my hand banded around his arm. My heart is aching terribly for my lover. His face is lifeless with perspiration along his hairline. I see fear in his saddened hazel eyes. He’s powerless and scared like a little boy being defenselessly cornered. I can hardly recognize the dominating man who intimidates everyone he encounters.

“I lost you,” he cries, losing all his composure. I’ve never seen Carson this shattered and vulnerable. My eyes fill with tears, feeling so helpless for him. He’s not one to crumble easily. This is a man who’s defeated a disease that’s plagued the entire world and claimed so many innocent lives. “I couldn’t save you.” His hands reach for my face, caressing it with a need to hold on, to keep me safe. A nightmare about losing me is what’s causing those burning tears to stream from his eyes. How could I ever question his love for me?

“I’m here. You have me,” I assure him, steadying myself. I wrap my arms around his clammy torso and let my body fall into him. His heart beats uncontrollably. I can hear it screaming from inside, hammering forcefully against his chest wall. “When will this nightmare end for you? I hate seeing you hurt like this.”

“I’m sorry I scared you. It’ll be over tomorrow,” he declares in a cold tone, not directed at me because his eyes are soft and affectionate. His face turns stern and threatening as his mind travels distantly to a dark place away from my company. His detached demeanor tells me he’s done putting up with this shit. He’s going to end it somehow, someway by tomorrow. “I won’t lose my control again,” he vows, coiling his arms even tighter around me.

“I just want you to be okay. Please tell me you’re going to be okay.”

Returning to me from the other side he whispers, “I will and you will be, too,” as his adoring eyes swaddle my face, telling me I’m the only one in his universe.

“What’s happening tomorrow?” I pry. I can’t help fearing for his life now that I understand the danger he encounters every day being at his level.

“My researchers are going to be rescued.”

“How?”

“You don’t need to know the details, angel. Just know that we’ll be leaving this craziness behind us after tomorrow.” He’s right. I don’t want to know the details because I know it’s more than I can handle. His complicated world is nothing anyone can mentally grasp.

“How can you be so sure? These people don’t seem like they’d give up easily.”

“No one threatens my family or me unless they don’t value their life,” he tells me in a slow, deep and dangerous tone. A forbidding chill shoots down my spine, making me shiver uncontrollably. Frightening doesn’t even come close to describing his temperament. I can understand why people fear him without reservation. What is he going to do to those people? It doesn’t sound promising for them. I don’t want to think about it because I have no desire to meet that malicious side of Carson. “It’s only 1:14 a.m.” he brings to my attention after looking over to the clock. “Your body needs rest. Stress isn’t good for your pregnancy.” I agree and lay back down with him, curving my body into his. My eyes are sealed, but my mind is wide open, mulling about the choices I’ve made that have led me here. The only sure thing I know is Carson’s undying love for me and there’s no other place I’d rather be than here with him.

 

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