Almost Ordinary (The Song Wreckers Book 2) (14 page)

He was asking permission.

I raised my eyebrows in challenge.
Bring it on, Hubby
. He whipped my bottoms and panties off with one quick tug.

I raised myself up to my elbows. Caleb put his hands on my shoulders and shoved me down flat, then grabbed my wrists and secured them above my head with one hand while he slid his other leg on the bed, making me open my legs wider to accommodate him.

With my hands still above my head, he leaned down and kissed me. Hard. Teeth against teeth at times.

Minutes passed. I needed more so I yanked my hands out of his grasp. He kept kissing me. I shoved his shoulders forcing him to ease up on the kissing.

He raised himself to his knees, and a slew of emotions showed on his face—anger, love, hurt, frustration.

He didn’t bother shedding his clothes, just unbuttoned and unzipped his pants far enough to push them down his hips. I thought he would shove himself in and start fucking me. He kissed me instead. The foreplay was hot, but something felt off—like he silently argued with himself while I fought to control my passion. He’d kiss me good and hard, then hesitate for a few seconds and give his head the slightest of shakes, as if he had to clear his mind.

I lifted my hips, desperate to have him in me. He moved his mouth off mine, to the side of my neck.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and again lifted my hips. Again he refused. I kept trying. The more I begged, the harder he resisted.

This seemed to go on forever. His mouth and hands paid all kinds of attention to my upper half, and I was able to yank his shirt off, but we weren’t moving out of the foreplay stage. I desperately wanted to connect with him, even with I’m-mad-at-you sex. Why wasn’t he—

He was punishing me.

As soon as I realized this, I stopped, let my whole body go slack, turned my head to the side, and laid there. The angry tears that wouldn’t come earlier ran down my cheeks.

Caleb caught on after a moment, raised up and sat on his knees. “Fuck.”

I stayed still, head to the side, leaking tears, not moving.

I wrapped my hands around myself the best I could. “Get away from me,” I sobbed.

Without a word he slid off the bed, zipped up his pants, and stormed out.

He didn’t stay and try to make things right. He left me like I told him to. Curling my knees into my chest, breathing came hard. Watching him leave felt like a punch to the gut.

Chapter 18

The next morning, I woke up and the alarm read ten o’clock. Holy shit! I hopped out of bed, fearing the boys had been up for hours waiting for me to rescue them from their cribs.

I ran to their bedroom. It was empty so I went downstairs. They were watching a video while Caleb sat on the couch with his laptop.

I kissed Alex and Zander good morning. I ignored Caleb. I thought that best as I had nothing to say to him and wasn’t sure I could talk to him without breaking down.

I made myself a cup of coffee then joined everyone in the family room.

“You’re welcome for letting you sleep in,” Caleb said.

“You’re a regular Prince Charming, letting your pregnant wife enjoy some extra sleep.” The sarcastic bitch sprang out, and I wasn’t sure I could tame her.

He closed his laptop. “I’m going into work.”

I said nothing, intent at keeping ‘ole sarcastic bitch at bay. He kissed the boys goodbye and slammed the door behind him.

My body slumped, drained by emotion. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. My mom and her boyfriend were coming over. Then Christmas with the whole damn gang of Ramseys. A few days from that, Zander and Alex’s first birthday party, where the Ramsey gang, my mom and Victor, plus my dad and Joy would all gather to celebrate. That, and Caleb had a bruised cheek, and my hand still hurt. Maybe I should’ve made a shirt:
I punched my husband in the face but I swear to God it was an accident.
My husband doubted his paternity with this baby. I’ve never felt so unsure about my life, ever.

Honest to God, life came up and rammed me right upside the head, then ran away laughing. I was glad Franny was on vacation from us. Having to act as if nothing was wrong, like my life wasn’t halfway in the shitter, would be too difficult.

I went about my day as normally as possible. When the boys didn’t need me I wrote in my song lyrics journal. I invited Katie over for lunch and present wrapping. My Christmas presents were all wrapped, but none of hers were so she brought them over and we did them together. When the boys napped, we went down to the basement and worked on some Wreckers songs that she had written. When they woke, she helped me do all the grocery shopping for Christmas Eve dinner, as well as the birthday party.

I saw her look at me a few times with that
I’m your best friend, I know there’s something you’re not telling me
look. I ignored it, and didn’t tell her about my pregnancy. I wasn’t telling anyone yet. She left after helping me put everything away from the store and I had given her the proper amount of compliments about how great she looked, and that only her belly increased in size.

I couldn’t imagine not having twins. They entertained each other most of the time, and on a day like today, I appreciated being able to dwell in my own miserable thoughts which grew more miserable as the day wore on.

The grinding of the garage door opening sounded, and a minute later Caleb set a small bag on the counter.

He rubbed a hand down his face. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

I still felt all the things I did last night; hurt, angry, confused. But the thought that I might lose the one man that I let myself fall head-over-heels in love with, who plowed through my barriers and saw all my flaws, who loved me anyway, well, that sobered me.

Caleb cut up some pieces of meat and vegetable then set them on the highchair trays. He shook his head. “I don’t know how to say this except to just come out and say it.”

Oh. Shit. I felt the color drain from my face, my head
whooshed
and for a split second I was in a freefall.

I opened my eyes to a new perspective; on the floor staring at the ceiling with Caleb over me, lightly tapping my cheek.

“Princess. Molly. Princess, open your eyes.”

I did. “What on earth . . .?”

“You fainted. I almost didn’t catch you. Are you okay? You scared the crap out of me.”

I turned my head toward the boys who were smearing food around like nothing happened, then to Caleb. “I don’t faint.”

He slid his arm under my neck and helped me up. He held me to his chest for a second. “Your face paled, your eyes rolled back, and you fell. You’re pregnant and overstressed. You fainted. Sit down and put your head between your knees.”

I did as told until the lightheadedness faded to nothing. By the time I sat up, Caleb had fixed our dinner plates.

“I didn’t go to work today,” he started, sitting down to eat. “I went to the doctor’s. Told him everything, what the other doctor said about me having damaged sperm ducts and probably never being able to have my own children, that I never bothered with the follow-up tests, that you’re pregnant. Pretty much everything I knew about my and your medical history.”

“Okay.” I didn’t know what else to say. Part of me waited for him to tell me that I must be a cheating whore, that this baby couldn’t be his. I found it hard to look on the bright side today.

“The doctor’s a former client of 3D’s. He needed background checks on all his employees when he started getting threatening phone calls.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, he sent me to a buddy of his, a urologist. He asked me a million questions and drew some blood. He said we need to wait for the results to be able to say with any certainty that you shouldn’t have been able to get pregnant since I never got the follow up tests done to confirm the diagnosis.”

His face flushed red. He was embarrassed? I’ve never seen his face turn red by discussing something uncomfortable. His hands shook a bit as well.

“So,” he cleared this throat, “I have to supply him with a sperm sample, too. That, along with my blood, will get analyzed and he’ll be able to tell me more. Us more.”

“You have to jerk off in a cup,” I said.
Really, Molly? Ugh!
Goodbye sarcastic bitch, hello inappropriate fucktard.

Caleb choked back a laugh, then I laughed briefly at my own statement.

The little ice-breaking didn’t last long. We had a huge fire in front of us that had to be put out before we could enjoy laughing together again.

We ate the rest of our dinner in silence, except for talking to the boys. Caleb kept a close eye on me, as if afraid I might fall out of my chair. When I made it to the end of our meal without incident, the slight tremor in his hands he’d had throughout dinner went away. He helped me with the cleanup.

“So I have until Monday off.” He leaned against the counter, I sat at the table across from him. “The doctor wants my sample on Friday because his office will be closed for a week. I know it’s the boys’ real birthday, but I thought since their party isn’t until Sunday it wouldn’t be a big deal for me to run it to his office. Since it’s been at least forty eight hours since we’ve been together and that’s one of the requirements, I’d like to do it Friday. I can do it at home with the container he gave me as long as I have the sample to them within the hour of collecting it.

“How did you get five days off?”

He linked his hands behind his head. “I didn’t ask. I told Cooper that I wouldn’t be in until Monday, and if he doesn’t like it to kiss my ass. He said, ‘See ya Monday.’ So, did you make an appointment yet?”

“For what?” I asked.

He reached out and put his hand on my belly. “For the baby.”

I stepped out of his reach. “Oh what, it’s yours now?”

He dropped his hand. “Okay, I deserved that.”

Determined to not be a bitch, I said, “Sorry.”

He let it go. “Do you have any idea how far along you are?”

“Not really. I’ve been tired and not feeling so hot for a while. I thought it was regular stress. Two months maybe. I don’t know.”

We ignored our problems for the next few hours and focused on the boys. Caleb let them chase him around the house with toy lawn mowers. I pretended to act surprised when they came zooming around the corner.

After we put the boys to bed, Caleb went into his office and I worked on music.

A portion of the basement was used as my dance space, though I didn’t dance as much as I used to. Up until my first pregnancy I continued to dance regularly. Lately my cardio consisted of running. I still lifted weights to keep my muscle tone, but dancing no longer took priority.

The workout area occupied almost half the basement. Between Caleb and me, we had a complete gym.

My favorite area was my music station. There were two chairs, one for me and one for Katie. Cork board covered a ten by ten area of the wall so I could pin up lyrics and ideas. My guitars sat on stands with their cases stacked up in the corner. A small, uncomplicated desk stood flush against the wall so I could bring my laptop when I needed to use my music writing software. It was cozy and simple, and suited my needs perfectly.

I reached for my new guitar, the one I bought myself from Caleb. Then I changed my mind and used my Fender. It may be old and one of their cheapest models, but it was reliable and comfortable.

Ignoring the soreness in my hand from accidentally punching Caleb, I strummed my guitar hoping inspiration would strike. About fifteen minutes into playing around with different melodies, I heard Caleb’s footsteps down the stairs, probably coming to work out or grab some files he had stored down here.

I stopped playing when he stepped in front of me, but didn’t look up.

“For what it’s worth, deep down I knew you were never with Cooper.”

I nodded. “Good.”

“Do you at least see my point of view?” he asked. “I’ve believed for years that there was no way I could get a woman pregnant, my wife has been spending hours with the biological father to her children, feeling sorry for him.” He sat down in Katie’s chair and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees.

“When you spell it out like that, sure. But, Caleb, I would never . . . You mean everything to me.” I continued playing.

He listened for a while, then relaxed and closed his eyes. “You’re so good at that.”

“Thanks.”

He fell asleep a few minutes later like the boys did when I played for them.

An hour later, I set my guitar on its stand. I shook Caleb’s hand. “Come on, you can’t sleep all night down here.”

He pulled me onto him. I almost fought it. Almost.

I snuggled myself into his lap and put my arms around his neck, burying my face and breathing him in. His arms snaked around me and we held each other.

Of course, since I cried like a baby when pregnant, tears rolled down my cheeks. He stroked my back and kissed my forehead. We stayed that way for a long time.

I woke up still in Caleb’s lap. “Ow, ow, ooh,” I moaned while trying to stand, stiff from staying balled up for so long, and half my face was sweaty from the skin-on-skin contact with Caleb’s neck.

“What time is it?”

I squinted at the wall clock. “Four in the morning. Crap.” Twisting and extending to work out my kinks, Caleb linked my outstretched hand in his and led me up two flights of stairs to bed.

We crawled under the covers. He spooned me and fell asleep within seconds. His relaxed body up against mine soothed me into a nice, peaceful rest.

But I couldn’t sleep right away. My mind raced with all the things I had to accomplish in the next several days. I decided to keep my pregnancy a secret for a while longer and had to figure out a cover story in case anyone asked Caleb what happened to his cheek, and then asked me what happened to my hand. I did not want to explain that one.