Baby Makes Five (A Multiple Birth Book 1) (18 page)

BOOK: Baby Makes Five (A Multiple Birth Book 1)
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He nodded, darting one last glance at the closed door.

Ignoring the temperamental man in the next room, she walked her child to the door and watched as he walked towards the cottage. When she saw he was safely home, she turned and went to Liam’s office bracing herself for the worst.  Okay so she shouldn’t have called him a wolf, but it wasn’t as if she was far from the truth. Being fired the day before her son’s surgery wasn’t something she wanted to deal with, but she won’t blame him if he did fire her. Obviously, he couldn’t take a joke.

 

The big bad wolf! That’s how she saw him? Well, he would show her who is bad. His colleague was laughing Liam wasn’t in the mood for one of his jokes.

              “Big bad wolf eh?”

              “Shut up Mark,” he snapped.

              “Guess you rub her the wrong way, losing your touch my friend?”

As she walked into the office, Mark was leaving. He smiled at her as if to reassure her or was that pity she saw in his eyes? Well, she didn’t need his pity she could handle Liam Bradford on her own. No sympathy or pity was needed; at least not on her part anyway. He, on the other hand, was another story by the time she was finished with him; he would be the one cowering in a corner. Unless he didn’t hear the comment about the nickname, she had given him. Out of the mouth of babes, she thought shaking her head.

He must have heard her approach because he turned towards her and nodded to the chair in front of his desk. He didn’t take his place behind the impressive desk he used so much to show who was boss. The man was always in control and liked to control everything and anyone in his presence. It was another one of his many attributes she didn’t care for.  It would be nice to see him lose some of that tight control of his.

She sat nervously playing with the hem of her skirt trying to figure out how to approach the subject of her day off and what he may or may not have heard.

              “Mr. Bradford, I just want to remind you that I have the day off tomorrow I—” he didn’t let her finish.

“I know, you don’t have to remind me I may be blind, but I am not deaf nor am I going senile,” he snapped.

Taken aback by his behaviour, Zola pushed back in her chair ready to leave him to stew in his bad mood. She should be accustomed to his attitude, but she had thought maybe after their first week they were making progress obviously not.

“Sit! I never said you could get up. Do I look stupid to you Azolah?” he asked frowning.

“N-no Mr. Bradford, I never implied that—” she stopped at his upheld hand.

“I didn’t ask if you implied, I just asked if I looked stupid,” he grounded out.

              “No, you are not stupid.” She answered trying to keep the tears at bay, yet she was unsuccessful. This week had been an emotional rollercoaster for her, and he wasn’t making it any better.

              “I hope you are not crying,” he said turning from the window walking around the desk to where she was sitting.

              “No sir,” she said wiping the stubborn teardrops from her cheeks. She cleared her throat, “I am not one to cry.”

              “Good because you would have spoiled my view of you,” he walked closer until he was standing in front of her and touched her cheeks.

             

             

His touch was softer, more caring almost sensual than she could imagine and way too intimate for her comfort. This act was why she had sleepless nights tossing and turning because lately her dreams had taken an erotic turn and it was his entire fault. He held the starring role. What would his lips feel like against hers would his touch be gentle? Well, now she had that answer to one of her questions. It was insanity, she told herself. She was losing her mind; she should hate him, did dislike him yet her nights were fill with dreams of him touching her and doing things to her no one had ever done before.  Just the memory made her hot with shame.  She turned her face away from his comforting hand.  What went on in her personal life wasn’t any of his business.

“Azolah, why didn’t you tell me you have a child?”

“I didn’t know that it was part of my job description sir,” she said. That should get him off her back so she could go and cry in private. She was always confused when it came to him. One minute he could be nice, the next he was a bat from hell. She was never sure which of the Liam Bradford she was getting. What went on outside of this office wasn’t any business of his especially when it concerned her son and mother.

“So what you are saying is, it’s none of my damn business, right?” he asked with arched brows. “You would be right if you weren’t chatting with my employees on company time about your personal life. If you didn’t want me to know then maybe you shouldn’t talk about your family here,” he gritted. “How old are you?” 

              “Twenty-three sir,” she whispered.

              “I thought we had gotten over this sir bullshit, how old is your son?”

              “Wynter will be three in a few months.”

                            “Wynter?”

“Yes Wynter,” she said stubbornly, maybe not everyone named their child after the cold season, but she did it was different. It happened to be her favourite time of the year.

“Who name their child after a cold season?”

Her temper bristled, “I do,” she snapped losing her patience. “Is there anything else you need
Sir
,” she asked stressing the Sir deliberately.

“Yes, next time you want to gossip or have a chat do it on your own time. I would like those letters I asked for before you leave at the end of the day.”

He walked back to his desk facing the window he always did that looking over the rose garden as if he could see their vibrant colours. It was also a way of letting her know she had been dismissed. Not waiting for another insult, she got up and ran out of the office straight to the washroom. She locked the door and turned on the water. She needed something to disguise the real reason she was in there; to cry.

 

Liam didn’t know what the hell had just happened he was never rude to anyone he worked with or otherwise, well not that rude anyway, yet here he was attacking the poor girl. She was just a baby herself. Twenty-three he had known she was young but not that young. She had cried; he hated to see a woman cry, had hated when Madeline cry. He needed to apologize to her he was sure she had enough to deal with.  Lucky for him he was blind, so he didn’t have to see those tears fall onto her soft cheeks.

 

It took her about fifteen minutes to compose herself before she was back at her desk doing the job she was paid handsomely to do. She was about to print the stack of letters when the phone rang, automatically she picked it up.  It was Cynthia, Liam’s mother.

“Hello Mrs. Bradford, how is your cruise?”

“Wonderful dear, I thought we had gotten over this Mrs. Bradford thing. Please call me Cynthia.”

“Okay, I am happy you are having a good time, did you want to speak with your son?”

“In a bit dear, how are things working out for you two?”

She had taken a few extra seconds before she spoke, “it could be better I guess. He is still prickly. No, he is more like a hot and cold water tap.”

“Give it a few more days, how is your family? I know you must be nervous about tomorrow.”

“They are okay and yes we are a bit nervous, but Doctor Sullivan promised me that everything is going to be okay. I’m counting on that for comfort but most of the time I can’t help but worry.”

“That’s what being a parent is all about dear, even when they are old and grey, you still worry about them. Everything will be okay; I want you to know you are in my prayers.”

“Thank you,” Zola said, touched by the woman’s words.

“Now if you could put me on to that stubborn son of mines, I’ll talk to you later.”

She said bye to Cynthia and transfer her to Liam. She cleaned her desk after printing the letters and stacked them in a neat pile. She knocked on his door before entering and put them on his desk. She looked at his attractive face as he scowls at something his mother said.

“The letters are here for you to sign, if it’s alright with you I’ll be on my way,” she said turning towards the door.

“Wait, hold on a minute Mother.  Azolah I am sorry for the way I behaved I had no right to talk to you the way I did. It is none of my business. Please accept my apology, and I hope everything works out for you and your family.”

After being shock by his apology, Zola thanked him and left his office; she grabbed her things and went home.

 

“Mother, how is your cruise coming along? Hope you and the girls are enjoying yourselves.”

              “We are dear and thank you for asking. Enough about me how are things with you and Zola?”

              “Okay enough,” he said cautiously. He knew his mother had taken a liking to the girl and that she was trying her hand at matchmaking, so he had to tread lightly. He sure as hell didn’t know what Zola had said to his mother while she answered the phone.

              “Are you sure everything is okay love?” his mother asked with suspicion in her voice.

              “Of course, I am sure Mother, why would I lie to you?”

              “Hmm, why indeed. I hope you are not still plotting to get rid of the dear girl,” it sound like it was an innocent comment but he knew his mother well to know when he was being warned. The ‘dear girl’ must have told his mother something.

              “What did Azolah say to you?” he demanded.

              “Really Liam, don’t shout at your Mother, at times I wonder if I didn’t do a good job in your upbringing.”

              “Fine, what did Azolah say to you?” he repeated calmly.

              “Nothing dear and everyone calls her Zola, why do you have to keep calling her Azolah?” his mother asked. He could picture her shaking her head the way she did when he had done something she didn’t approve.

              “Not everyone calls her Zola, Mother surely.”

              “Of course, they do she said I should call her Zola since all her friends do.”

              “Well I guess we aren’t friends,” he snapped.

              “Really Liam, you seem to be in a snit about something. I’ve had enough of your temperament for one day. You had better treat Zola well and with respect. Goodbye,” she said and hung up.

Liam looked at the phone and scowled. Leave it to his mother to throw him to the wolves. He had a feeling she was going to say it was for his own good. He was beginning to get sick just hearing the blasted phrase. Wolves, the word brought back the conversation he had overheard earlier with Azolah and her son. He thought of when he had touched her soft cheeks and found they were damp from tears; she had lied about not crying. He had done that to her.

He didn’t feel good about the way he had treated her. But he wasn’t happy she thought him a cold-hearted bastard who she thought wouldn’t care if her child was sick or not. Had she told him the reason for the day off tomorrow, he would have given her today off as well. The slight made him bitter for some reason, she was so young barely out of her teens and he didn’t even know she was a mother.   He shouldn’t give a damn, but somehow he seemed to care about what went on in this woman’s life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

The threads of her sneakers would be worn out if they weren’t already ragged. Zola paced the floors of the family waiting room, something she had been doing for the past hour since they had taken her baby into the operating room.

“Come and sit sweetheart, you are wearing a hole in the floor,” her mother said patting the empty seat beside her.

                            “I am fine Mum,” she said stubbornly.

                            “No you are not, come and sit you are making me dizzy just trying to keep up with you,” Zora said in her no-nonsense tone.

                            “Okay, but I’m not making any promises to sit still,” Zola sat tapping her feet on the linoleum floor. What was happening in there she wondered. She turned to her mother, but she was too choked up on tears to say anything.

                            “Now baby girl everything is going to be okay. Our boy is a fighter like his mama. He is strong and stubborn just like you are.” Her mother said hugging her close.

Zola cried she didn’t know for how long. She was curled up to her mother’s side until she heard someone cleared their throat.

                            Both mother and daughter looked up to see Liam Bradford standing there. He looked as if he was embarrassed to be there. She should be the one embarrassed to be caught in the position she was in.  She must look like a wreck; she consciously ran a hand through her hair. She was shocked to see him; he was the last person she had expected to see today. Thank god he was blind—not that she was happy he was blind---shut up Zola she chided herself.

“Mr. Bradford, w-what are you doing here?” she stammered.

                            Heat crept into cheeks, was he blushing? If she weren't feeling anxious about Wyn, she would have laughed at his discomfort.  She couldn’t believe her big bad wolf blushes. Where was a camera when she needed one?

He cleared his throat “I-I stopped by to see how you and your mother were holding up.” He said.

                            “Thank you for coming Mr. Bradford. I am Zora, Zola’s mother.  We appreciate your concern,” Zora replied after a while.

                            “It’s nice to meet you Miss Kurtis, and please calls me Liam everyone else does. If you don’t mind my company, I’ll sit with you for a while.”

                          “And you must call me Zora,” her said.

                            Zola was still speechless and had to be nudged by her mother, “ah s-sure please join us.” Are you kidding me? Her mother and boss were chatting as if they were old acquaintances. What happened to him being the big bad wolf? She looked at her mother who patted Zola’s leg and smiled.

“Thank you Azolah, how are you holding up?” he asked smiling.

                            The man was a contradiction. He was smiling, a real smile for the first since she had met him.  His face must be hurting just by pulling off that smile. “Great,” she screeched. Okay, that didn’t come out the way she had wanted it to. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Fine thank you,” she lied.

                            “Azolah, you don’t have to pretend with me, it’s okay to be scared,” he replied softly.

                            That’s it! She couldn’t stand him being nice any longer; she felt like a deer trapped in headlights who didn’t have a clue where to run to for safety.

“Don’t tell me how I should or shouldn’t feel. You don’t know me that well to say I’m pretending. You couldn’t possibly know what I’m feeling at this moment,” she shouted too riled up to listen to her mother’s warning. She wanted to hit something, and he was the only outlet that was available.

“Azolah Kurtis,” her mother reprimanded.

              “You’re right; I don’t know what’s going through your head, or what you are feeling. I don’t have a child, so I could only imagine. I’m sorry—”

              She cut him off, “you should be, I didn’t ask you to come here did I? I d-d-didn’t,” she burst into tears.

              Before she knew what was happening, she was in his strong arms being comforted by him. The dam she was keeping locked up inside her broke. She cried for every precious day her baby had lived, and had suffered. She cried for the number of years she spent hating Nick Ballou, the man who had helped fathered her son. The man who had left her and Wyn without a backward glance. She cried because she was tired and afraid she could lose her baby. She also cried because it was the first time since her son was born anyone besides her mother cared what happened to him. That it was Liam made his kindness harder for her to accept.

              For the first time in years if ever Zola felt as if she had finally come home. She buried deeper into the comfort of his embrace, her head resting where his heart beats.  Odd, as it may be his murmured soothing words, were very calming as was the comforting caress he was making in the middle of her back. Her breath hitched in her throat and quickened at the knowledge of how intimately they were standing. She inhaled his musky scent and almost groaned aloud. He smelled good enough to eat, and she should be burnt at the stakes for thinking so.

                              How could she be thinking about hot steamy sex with this man when her son was on an OR table and when she couldn’t stand to be in the same room with this man most of the time? Because he showed up here showing her he did indeed have a human side, doesn’t make him one. With him, you never know when the sheep clothing will appear. She pushed away from him lightly, trying not to surprise him and throw him off balance.

                               His hands came up automatically when he released her from his hold briefly grazing her left breast. Her traitorous body reacted instantly. Crap! Could things get any worst where this man was concerned? She looked up to see her mother was watching them.  What a scene they must make. She looked away from her mother’s knowing gaze but not before, she saw the raised eyebrows.

                               A bit confused herself Zola sat silently in the chair farthest from Liam. Willing her body to behave. She had fought the idea that she could be attracted to her boss. She had dismissed it due to her being with him ten hours a day. He was a thorn in her backside that was all. He wasn’t even her type. She had vowed to stay away from men who had more money than they know what to do with it didn’t she learn her lesson from being with Nick? Yet she wanted to jump his bones? If she wasn’t so drained, she might have laughed at the ridiculous thought. It had to be the stress and the circumstances that threw them into close proximity. That had to be it, but what about the dreams she’d been having about him. Were they her subconscious trying to tell her something? Weren’t they the root of all this musing and sexual attraction?

                               No, she wasn’t attracted to Liam Bradford, ogre, aka the big bad wolf. She

couldn’t be. She won’t allow it.

                            “No it can’t be, I won’t let it happen,” she muttered. He maybe a pretty face but he was in desperate need of a personality makeover.

                              “You won’t let what happen darling?” her mother asked.

                              “Huh?” Zola asked lost in her own thoughts.

                            “You said ….”

                              “Oh! Oh that, nothing yes it’s nothing. I need a drink I’m going to the cafeteria can I get anyone anything?” she asked jumping up from the chair playing nervously with the beaded necklace Wyn had made for her birthday just a month ago. Anything to get away from Liam for a while would be a welcome distraction. She needed to clear the cobwebs from her head. She needed to deal with all these new confusing feelings she now had. Was it because her emotions were at a high or had these feelings been there from the beginning and she subconsciously suppressed them? Oh god, everything was such a mess.

                            “I’m fine dear,” her mother said looking at her daughters’ shaking hands with worry.

                            “Nothing for me either thanks,” Liam said. Even his voice was beginning to sound different. Sexier, more approachable something she had never paid attention to before.

                              “Well then I’ll get my coffee, see you in a bit,” she was almost out of the room when she turned again.  What if the doctor came when she was gone?

                               “I’ll get you if anything develops,” her mother said.

                               “Okay, I’ll be back soon.” She left the room.

                            “Has she been this tense all day?” Liam asked

                            “Yes, she would not relax until Wyn is out of the OR.”             

                            “I have decided to give her the week off to get settled and to spend with Wyn.”

                            “She’ll appreciate that,” Zora said.  Silence.  It was broken by a raised voice in the hallway. Zora looked towards the door and swore.

                            “What is it?” asked Liam urgently.

                            “It’s Nick, Wyn’s father. What the hell is he doing here?”

                            “Shouldn’t he be here?” Liam asked puzzled.

                            “No, not when he deserted Zola before his son was born. I wonder how he knew…”

                            “Miss Kurtis, it’s been a long time,” Nick said.

                            “Not long enough, what are you doing here?”

                            “To see my son of course, why else would I be here?” he asked cockily.

                            “Since when is he your son? You never saw him, didn’t care to find out if he was alive or dead. You washed your hands of him the day you signed over all your parental rights to Zola.” She said with disdain.

                            “That was years ago, water under the bridge. Now I am here and want to be a part of my son’s life. I am more matured now than I was at twenty-two.”

                            “How did you hear about this?” she asked suspiciously. Although they both lived in the same city,but different neighbourhoods she hadn’t set eyes on this cocky boy-man for the three years he had skipped out on his responsibilities to her daughter. So what had changed, why was he here? She had a feeling it wasn’t for the reasons he said. There was more going on here. There was always more where Nick was concerned. He never did anything for anyone unless he benefit from it.

                            “Alyssa told me. I saw her earlier.”

“I see this is Mr. Bradford, Nick, a friend of the family.”

                            “Hi, it’s good to know Zoe have people in her corner supporting her,” Nick said sitting in the empty chair next to Zora.

                            “What do you really want Nick?” she asked after a few seconds of silence.

                            “My son, I didn’t get a chance to see him in the past three years and look what happened.”

                            “Surely you aren’t implying it was my daughter’s fault that her child got sick. What kind of mother do you think she is?” Zora asked angrily.

“Obviously not a good one if it came to this,” he said in ignorance.

“For your information, this could be hereditary, and Zola and I were tested, and we were fine. If I were you, I wouldn't hand out blame when you know nothing. You better go.”

                            “Do you believe Azolah is to blame?” Liam asked not liking the way this man had come in disrupting whatever comfort this family had.

                            “Sure I do, anyway what’s it to you? Whatever you both think she had him all his life now it’s my turn.”

                            “Do you think this is a game? No way are you getting your hands on my grandson. It’ll have to be over my dead body.”

“Really Miss Kurtis, I won’t be saying that since you seem not to have a body in that wheelchair,” He replied nastily. “I don’t want to fight, but if I have to, I will. I do have rights and the money to back it up. There is always someone for sale,” Nick threatened.

                            “You want to play daddy now, is that it? What do you expect would happen with you charging in here on your black horse? You think because you threatened us that we’ll just hand over my grandson to you. Do you think you could win this, that a judge would give you custody?”

                            “I’m married she isn’t, and if I recalled you Kurtis’s never had enough pennies to spare. You don’t want to mess with me,” he said getting up and left the room.

                            “The pompous bastard,” Liam muttered savagely.

                            “He’s right; we can’t go up against the Ballou’s. They have money and power on their side,” Zora said sounding defeated.

 

                            He couldn’t sit here and allow that jackass to intimidate this little family. They may not have much, but what they have is worthwhile fighting for. “Don’t worry Miss. Kurtis, he is not going to win not if I have anything to say about it,” Liam promised, and he was a man who always kept what little promises he made.

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