The Convenient Wife (A BWWM Steamy Marriage of Convenience Romance) (18 page)

“I love you too, Dorian,” I managed
to whisper, my lips suddenly dry as I looked up into his eyes. “I… I didn’t
know how much until today, but I really do love you. And
I’m
so sorry. I let your mother get under my skin and it ruined
what we had.”

“No, it didn’t,” Dorian whispered,
wrapping his arms tightly around me. “She gave you an impossible choice, and
you made the decision you had to make. It doesn’t matter now. It’s in the past.
I’m here. We’re all here,” he whispered, his hand on my tummy.

I felt tears stinging the corners of
my eyes and I fought to keep them back as I held onto him. I felt so good to
have his warmth against me, feeling his heartbeat as I laid my head against his
chest.

“Are we ready to begin?” came the
doctor’s tentative voice. I almost felt bad for him and gave the faintest of
chuckles as I disengaged from Dorian.

“Yes,” I said, brushing a strand of
hair behind my ear as I went over to the exam table and climbed awkwardly on to
the paper-covered surface. It was cold like I expected, but it was more than
the cold that was making me nervous. I was about to see my child for the first
time, and hopefully find out whether it was a boy or a girl.

As soon as I got myself settled,
Dorian was right beside me, his hand in mine as she doctor went over to a small
call-box by the door and asked for the ultrasound technician to be sent in.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I whispered
to Dorian as a woman entered, rolling the ultrasound machine along with her.

“Me too,” he whispered back as the
woman pulled up a stool on the opposite side of me from Dorian.

“All right, ma’am, I’m going to need
you to lift up your shirt just a bit so that I can apply the gel,” the
technician said, going through the words she’d probably said to hundreds or
thousands of mothers-to-be. But despite that, I found her voice comforting and
sweet.

I did as she instructed, revealing
my stomach to the chilly air of the exam room. I bit my lip as she got out a
white squeeze bottle and turned on the machine, the big screen on top flaring
to life. I braced myself for the cold, but nothing I could have done would have
prepared me for the shock of just how damn frigid it felt. She squeezed a large
glob of the viscous fluid out onto my lower stomach, taking an oddly shaped
wand in her other hand and using it to spread the gel around, which only made
the cold worse.

I tried not to focus on it, turning
my gaze instead to the screen as black and white shapes began to form. She
moved the wand in slow circles just over my womb. At first it all looked like
static, nonsensical shapes that I couldn’t possibly decipher.

“Ah, there it is,” said the doctor,
reaching over and pointing toward a small shape on the side of the screen. The
tech moved the wand to get into a better position, bringing the shape that was
our child into center frame. It didn’t look like anything at first, just a strange
white blob.

But then it moved.

I watched as the thing inside of me
squirmed ever so slightly, turning as I finally caught a vague glimpse of what
could only be one of its legs, at the end of which were the tiniest of little
toes.

I let out a gasp, my tears finally
gushing forth as I made out the face of my baby on the screen. I cried. Oh,
Lord, did I cry as I saw my child wriggling inside of my womb. It felt so
surreal, knowing without a doubt that there was an honest-to-God life growing
inside of me.

“Aha, it looks like you’re going to
start shopping for something pink for this little lady,” the doctor chuckled,
pointing again at the screen.

“It’s a girl?” Dorian asked, a smile
spreading on his face as he watched the tech bring her into better focus. Sure
enough and clear as day, we were certainly looking at a little girl.

“We’re having a girl,” I whispered,
wiping tears away from my eyes.

Dad’s
going to be so happy
, I
thought, laughing as I imagined the way he’d dance for joy at the thought of
having a grandbaby to spoil.

Shit. Dad. I’d been so scared of
what Dorian might think I’d never even told him about my father. A pang of
guilt struck me. If we were going to make this work, we had to get past our
little secrets. It was time to open up… To tell Dorian everything…

“You really think he’s going to like
me?”

“You’d better hope so,” Gigi joked
as the two of us walked into the lobby of the Summer Harbor Care Center. “Otherwise,
this entire engagement is off…
again
.”

The center definitely wasn’t what I
had expected when she mentioned where we were going—mostly because it looked
clean and well-tended. The staff nodded and smiled as we passed, and as we
approached the front desk, the young medical assistant even address Gigi by
name.

“Good morning, Ms. Devereaux! Here
for your father, correct?” Her bright eyes turned toward me for a moment. “And
your guest, as well?”

“Yes, Joanna, Mr. Lambert will be
coming with me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, her smile
bright and cheerful. “I just need you both to sign in.”

After we’d both scribbled our John
Hancocks on the paper, Gigi and I headed toward down a corridor and up a flight
of stairs. It took us an extra few minutes of walking to finally get to her
father’s room, but on the way, I began to get an idea for the kind of place
this was.

Each “room” was practically its own
apartment with all of the amenities, which I found impressive in its own right,
but given the fact that everything here seemed to border on a damn spa, I was
actually starting to feel a little jealous of the old man.

“If I need to start living in a
home,” I said, nudging her gently, “make sure it’s this one.”

We found his front door already open
halfway, the sound of early morning television greeting us as we drew close.
Gigi lightly rapped on it as she entered before me, signaling me to wait just
outside. My heart was pounding as I halted, rocking back and forward on my
heels as I listened to Gigi say her “hello’s.”

“‘Morning, Dad,” she said sweetly,
followed by the sounds of a chair being moved. “Anything good on?”

“Same old shit,” came a grumbling
voice from somewhere beyond the entryway. “Some rich asshole is trying to tell
everyone else how to run the damn country, like he knows anything.”

“How are they treating you?”

“Same way they treated me yesterday.
Way too nice.”

“You like it,” Gigi teased.

“Don’t think I asked you whether I
liked it or not,” her father grunted, though from Gigi’s laughter I could tell
he was smiling. “You told me on the phone you needed to tell me something.
What’s so important that you couldn’t just say it then, huh?”

“Well, I didn’t need to tell you
something so much as show you something—but more like some
one
.”

A silence followed her words, and I
could almost feel the look her father must have been giving her. It only served
to make me even more anxious as I waited for someone to finally speak. I
started to wonder whether Gigi was wrong and her father might
not
approve.

“Some
one
? I don’t like the sound of that,” I heard him say. “You go off
and get yourself a man now, Georgia Devereaux? That’s why you didn’t talk to
your daddy for a whole two weeks?”

His voice came off as disapproving
at first, disgruntled that his daughter would do something so brazen as to get
herself someone new.

“About damn time,” he finally added,
a chuckle to his voice. “Well, then, send him in.”

“Dorian, sweetie,” Gigi finally
called. “You can come in now.”

I took a slow, deep breath to calm
my nerves as I walked into her father’s room, a nice, spacious, studio-style
apartment with its kitchen and living area. I swept my gaze all around, taking
in the brand new appliances and the hardwood floors. I smiled, warmth filling
my chest as I turned my eyes toward Gigi. I was impressed by how much she loved
her father—some kids would have just dumped their parents in the cheapest
facility, but she went out of her way to give her dad the best place to live
that he could ask for.

“It’s a nice place,” I said, holding
out my hand to shake Mr. Devereaux’s. “Dorian Lambert, sir. It’s an honor to
meet the man who raised an amazing woman like Gigi.”

Mr. Devereaux stared at me for a
long moment before his eyes flicked back to Gigi, then down to my offered hand.
My chest tightened and I was afraid the silence would last forever, until he
finally broke into a half-smile, took my hand firmly, and shook it.

“She did pretty damn well pickin’ it
out, didn’t she? Must have cost her a pretty penny. Though if I remember that
name right, you’ve got a few shiny pennies yourself, Mr. Lambert.”

I gave a nervous smile, unsure of
what news story might have run across his TV in the last couple of weeks. My
stomach clenched up as he held his grip on my hand, waiting for me to reply.

“Nothing’s too expensive when it
comes to family,” I said, drawing another silent gaze from Gigi’s father before
he nodded in what I hoped was approval.

“You’re damn right,” he said. “All
right, Gigi, I’ve met your
friend
.
Why is he here?”

Mr. Devereaux waved for me to pull
up a chair beside his daughter as he sat himself back down in his own recliner,
his eyes still on me like a hawk stalking a mouse.

“Well, Dad,” she began, taking a
deep breath before continuing, “I’m… pregnant.”

Immediately Mr. Deveraux’s eyes fell
on me, his mouth forming a thin line for the briefest of moments before finally
speaking. “And it’s his?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, laughing a
little nervously.

“And you intend on looking after it?
Raising it? Feeding it?
Loving
it?”

I looked into his old, tired eyes
for a long time before I answered. I reached over and took Gigi’s hand in mine,
squeezing gently.

“I will love that little girl with
every bit of my heart, Mr. Devereaux. I don’t think I could live with myself if
I didn’t love her.”

“It’s a girl?” he asked, his stern
expression faltering into a smile. “I’m gonna have a granddaughter?”

“Yes, Daddy. A sweet baby girl,”
Gigi said, smiling at him brightly. “Well, at least she’s going to be a girl—can’t
make any promises on that sweet part, considering her mother.”

“Don’t you sell yourself short, girl.
You were the sweetest little girl growing up, and I’m sure this one will be,
too.”

She and her father wrapped one
another in a tight embrace, a glistening trail of tears falling down her
father’s cheeks. I smiled, watching the two of them hold on to one another for
dear life. It was beautiful to see her and her father so happy, so relieved
that everything would turn out just fine.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have a
grandbaby,” Mr. Devereaux said, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.
“I thought I’d never get to hold one in my whole life, not with the bonehead of
a brother of yours keepin’ those sweet babies from me.”

“Don’t worry about Tyrell,” Gigi
said, waving the thought of her brother away. “He’ll come around, sooner or
later...”

Her father sniffed and let out a
satisfied sigh before turning his eyes back on me again, looking me up and
down, appraising me. Then he smiled.

“I take it you plan on
marrying
my daughter before she has the
baby girl, don’t you?”

 
“Absolutely,” I said, resting my hand on
hers to signal her to let me handle it. “We’ve already started planning the
ceremony.”

“Dorian…”

“It’s going to be gorgeous,” I said,
running my thumb over her top of her hand. “The botanical gardens are beautiful
this time of year. A nice, big open area in the greenhouse is available for
wedding ceremonies and parties, with plants and flowers all around us, creating
life as we start ours together. They have a gazebo in the center where we can
say our vows in, raised up so that everyone can see us from their seats, with
flowers hanging from the lintel and columns, framing us in their petals as we
tell one another ‘I do.’_”

Gigi’s eyes were brimming with
tears, shimmering streams of them flowing down her cheeks as she looks into my
eyes. I smiled, lacing my fingers together with hers as I brushed a stray tear
away before quickly kissing her soft lips.

“I love you,” she whispered softly,
her honey-colored eyes looking up into mine. “I love you so much, Dorian.”

“I love you too, Gigi. More than
anything else.”

“You must be pregnant, girl,” Mr.
Devereaux chuckled as I pulled away and he leaned in once again to hug his
daughter tightly. “Crying like that out of nowhere.”

She and I shared a look, one that
said that he didn’t really need to know
all
the details.

“Don’t think you’re gettin’ out of
this, Mr.
Lambert
,” Mr. Devereaux
laughed, pulling me in close and wrapping an arm around my back. “I’ve never
been happier, not in a
long
time.”

“Good,” Gigi whispered as we gently
broke away from the tight embrace of her father. “That’s all I ever wanted for
you.”

“And we can see about getting you back
home, if you’re ready, that is. Money’s not an issue.”

Her father sat for a moment in
silence, a ponderous look on his face, his index finger pressed against the
line of his jaw. For a moment I was almost afraid that he’d be insulted by the
offer, but eventually he shook his head.

“No, I don’t think going back to
that old house will do me any favors right now. Too many memories—good and
bad—that I need to put behind me if I ever want to be any kind of grandfather
to my up-and-coming grandbaby.”

“So someplace new, then?” Gigi
asked.

“I think that’d be nice—but we’ll
talk about that after the baby’s born. For now, this place is helping keep me
on the straight and narrow. You don’t need any of my stress on your shoulders
while you’ve got a little passenger riding along.”