Destined to Love (Starting Over Trilogy Book 3) (11 page)

I walk around the empty nursery and open the closet. Inside, a few tiny outfits are hanging up. I pick one up and touch it lightly. Mason comes up behind me and kisses the top of my head. I lean into him and close my eyes.

“I love you,” I whisper.
 

He kisses the top of my head again and says, “I love you, more.”
 

I hang the outfit back up and turn to hug Mason.

He asks, “Are you ready to go downstairs with the others?”
 

“I am.”
 

“Do you have everything you need?”
 

I tuck the notebook back into my purse. “I do. Lead the way, Handsome.”
 

I follow Mason down the stairs; Brea is still sitting down. I walk over to her and kneel down beside her. “Are you all right?” I ask.
 

“I’m fine, just tired. It’s these Braxton Hicks contractions. They aren’t real contractions; however, they feel like they are real. They keep coming and getting stronger.”

“How long have you been having them?” Mason interrupts.
 

“Off and on for a few months,” Brea laughs.
 

Mason laughs, too. “Today, Brea. How long have you had them, today?”
 

“Since I got off work.”
 

“Angel, would you go to the car and get my medical bag, please?” Mason says, kneeling down beside Brea.
 

I walk out to the car and wonder how many medical bags he has. When I walk back into the house, Vincent has stress lines on his face. I hand Mason the medical bag and step away so he can assess Brea.

I stand beside Sara and she immediately grabs my hand.

“She doesn’t look good,” Sara whispers.
 

“I know, how was she at work today?”
 

“She seemed fine, a little bitchy, but that’s normal for her. She had her feet propped up on a chair most of the day because of the swelling to her ankles.”
 

“Is swelling normal?” I ask.
 

“How the hell do I know?”
 

We both laugh at her comment. Mason stands up and tells Vincent to take Brea home to rest. He tells him it is just Braxton Hicks contractions, and he doesn’t need to worry.

“Brea, drink plenty of water and keep your feet elevated. You still have four more weeks before Junior is born.”
 

“Mason, stop calling him Junior. He has a name.”
 

“Oh, I didn’t realize you decided on a name. What is it?”
 

“I don’t know yet, but I know it isn’t Junior.” Brea says, trying to get up from the chair. “I also know it isn’t Dweezil or Kal-El.”

“What, you don’t want to name your son after Frank Zappa’s son or Nicolas Cage’s son?” Mason smiles. “Nic Cage is a big Superman fan, and Kal-El is the name of Superman’s father. And did you know that Penn Gillette of Penn and Teller fame named his daughter Moxie Crimefather? He said that he likes the name Moxie because it is so American, but the name Crimefighter is a joke. When his daughter grows up and begins to drive and is pulled over for speeding, he wants her to be able to say, ‘But, officer, we’re on the same side! My middle name is Crimefighter!’”

We all laugh but Vincent. I know Brea has been moody lately, and I imagine it isn’t any fun for him. I tell Brea to call me if she wants me to cover for her at work tomorrow.

Vincent helps Brea down the stairs while Donovan locks up the house. Vincent has his truck and Brea moans as she tries to climb into the truck.

“Here, take our car and we’ll take the truck,” I offer. “It’ll be easier for Brea to get in and out of,” I say.
 

“Are you sure?” Vincent asks.
 

“Vincent, just help me in the car, will you?” Brea says, holding her belly.
 

Mason smiles as Vincent walks Brea over to the passenger-side door. I hold it open for them, and Brea gets in and fastens her seat belt. Vincent stands and Mason smiles at him. Vincent doesn’t smile back, but he takes the keys from Mason and thanks him. I hug Brea and tell her I’ll see her later and to call me if she needs me.

We watch them drive off and talk to Donovan and Sara for a while.
 

“Is she in labor?” Sara asks.
 

“No, she isn’t. She’s having something called Braxton Hicks contractions.”
 

“You mean she’s bitchy like that during a fake contraction? Poor Vincent.” Sara laughs.
 

“Come on, Sara, let’s go home. You’re going to have a big day tomorrow if Brea shows up for work,” Donovan says, walking over to his truck and holding the door open for her.

Sara and I hug and Mason holds the truck door open for me, too. On the way home, I ask Mason if he wants to stop by the Babies R Us store for a few minutes.

“Sure, it’s on the way. Is there something special you’re looking for?”
 

“I have the measurements for the nursery and Vincent gave me his credit card. I thought we could walk in and see what they have in stock. Judging from the way Brea looks, I’m not sure how much longer she’ll hold out. She’s due in four weeks.”
 

Mason reaches over and holds my hand and smiles at me as he pulls into the Babies R Us parking lot.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”
 

“I can’t look at my girl and smile?” he says, putting the car into park.
 

“Not when I don’t know why you’re smiling.”
 

He lets go of my hand and laughs. “Beauty, stay put.” That is all he says before getting out of the truck and walking over to my side to open the door.
 

Mason
 

Still smiling, I open the truck door for Angel. She reaches her hand out for mine and slides out of the tall truck. We walk into the large store and I take a cart. Angel walks behind me and takes another cart for her.
 

“Planning on spending all Vincent’s money?” I laugh.
 

“I’m planning on spending most of his and some of yours.” Angel also laughs as she walks away from me. I follow her up and down the aisles. She looks at bedding, curtains, and rugs and after deciding on the perfect ones, she places them in
my
cart and smiles. She looks at baby car seats and asks me which the best one for a newborn is. We discuss the different kinds, types, and brands before she places one in
her
cart.

Is there anything else you want to look at?” I ask.
 

“Just a few more things.”
 

I follow Angel down the baby-clothes aisle. She picks up a few blankets, sleepers, a couple of bottles, a bag of diapers, and some baby socks and puts them in
her
cart. I pick up a sleeper with a sailboat on it and a pair of baby socks and put them in
my
cart. Angel smiles when I look up. 

“Here, let me have them; this cart belongs to
us
.” 

I hand her the sleeper and booties and ask, “All of that is ours?” I look into her cart, which is filled with the baby car seat and diapers.
 

“Yes, I want
Junior
to stay the night sometime.” 

We both laugh at her calling the baby Junior. “I wouldn’t call him that in front of Brea, if I were you.”
 

“I know — she was a little short tempered when you called her son Junior.”

We pay for our purchase, load up the truck, and head home.
 

Once everything is unloaded in the house, Angel does a load of laundry. She washes all of the new baby items and begins to open the box with the car seat in it.
 

“Beauty, wait for me and I’ll do that. I just need a quick shower.”
 

“Ok,” she says, not looking at me and still trying to open the large box.
 

I shake my head and smile as I walk over to her. Angel is fighting with the box to pull the car seat out of it. I laugh and she looks up at me; her hair is loose from her ponytail, and her hair is falling around her face.
 

“I thought you were going to shower?”
 

“I was, but it looks like I need to rescue you from this.”
 

“How do they get all this in here?” she asks as she tries to pull the large car seat from the box.
 

“Here, Beauty. Let me help you before you hurt yourself.”
 

The next day, I get a text from Vincent saying Brea is feeling better and will be going to work. Angel has a meeting with one of her clients. She is scared, although she has nothing to be afraid of. I called yesterday to have a bouquet of daisies delivered to her. After work tonight, she wants to go over to Brea and Vincent’s new home and set up the nursery. Vincent said he would have all the baby furniture in the room when we get there.
 

The week goes by with painting Vincent and Brea’s nursery on Wednesday, and hanging curtains and moving everything into the nursery on Thursday. Brea went to the doctor and has already started to dilate. Vincent has hired a moving company to move their things into the new house next weekend. He said he is excited to get moved before the baby arrives. Brea’s Mom is flying in the week after. Angel has been over to her new client’s house trying to figure out the best décor for the lanai. She has been doing some online shopping for specialty pieces for her client and helping out at the insurance company when she can. Angel and I have an appointment on Monday with Cakes and Cups to decide on our wedding cake. Madison said she has a buyer for the condo and the price is being negotiated. She adds that I know her. I almost choke when she tells me the buyer is Julia. I don’t care who buys it as long as it sells. I do wonder why she would be interested in the penthouse.

I sit outside on the lanai drinking a Scotch waiting on Angel. I’m taking her to dinner tonight. We have a wonderful relationship, and I can’t wait to marry her. I’m wearing a midnight black suit with a white shirt and a gray tie. I know she likes that Grey guy in the books, so I thought I would humor her. I stand when I hear Angel.
 

She is standing at the doorway holding a glass of white wine. I look her up and down like it’s the first time I saw her. Her hair is down and straight, and she has full red lips. She is wearing gold hoop earrings, a red form-fitting dress that shows off her cleavage, and black heels
with a red bow on each back. My eyes slowly travel up her gorgeous body. I smile when our eyes finally meet.

She smiles and says, “See something you like, Handsome?” Angel turns around slowly so I can see her front and back. She stands tall and with confidence.
 

“Nice shoes,” I say, as I walk over to her grinning. “You look absolutely stunning.” I bend down slightly to kiss her. When she wears five- or six-inch heels, she is almost as tall as I am. I haven’t seen this outfit on her in a very long time.
 

“Thank you. You remember this dress?”

“I will never forget
that
dress. You wore it the first night you spilled your drink all over me at the club.” 

“Um, you mean the night you spilled your own drink on you.” She laughs.
 

“I remember it differently, but it’s the same night.”

She wraps her arms around me. I inhale her scent. Peaches and cinnamon. My favorite scent.

“Umm, did you just sniff my hair?” She laughs.
 

“No,” I lie. “That would be a little creepy,” I say, backing away from her so I don’t sniff her again.
 

Angel laughs because she already knows the truth. I love the way she smells and I love inhaling her scent. It’s better than any drug out there and it calms me instantly.

“You look very handsome tonight, and a little
Fifty Shades of Grey
, I might add.” 

I smile, adjust my tie, and straighten my cuffs on my shirt. “I do? I didn’t realize.”
 

“You didn’t realize that gray tie, or any gray tie for that matter, doesn’t remind me or any other women out there, of Christian Grey?”
 

I straighten my tie again and give her my all dimpled smile, “How am I supposed to know gray ties remind women of that
Grey guy
?” I lie again. I took her
Fifty Shades of Grey
book to the office with me a few weeks ago. I read it during my lunch breaks because I wanted to see what the hype is. Any man, if he is smart, should read that book
.
When they say a man could learn a thing or two from that book, they aren’t kidding. Angel and I still haven’t made love, and if she turns out to be a freak, I wanna be ready.

“What are you smiling about?” Angel laughs.
 

She brings me from my thoughts. I’m not about to tell her what I was thinking. “Come on, Beauty. We have reservations we need to keep.”