My Unexpected Family: California Billionaires Book 3 Read online

  “Well, I know that a natural birth would be best, and I think I can handle it.”

  “I think you could too. You’re one of the strongest people I know, Chloe.”

  The corner of her mouth tips up. “Thank you. But I also know that drugs are amazing and I’m not afraid to ask for them if I want them.”

  I nod in agreement. “Okay.”

  “I’d like to avoid a cesarean if I can, although I know that if it’s a matter of safety, I’ll be ready and willing to let the doctor cut me open.”

  “I agree with everything you’re thinking.”

  “In all honesty, I’m more worried about what my vagina is going to look like afterward, or if I’m going to shit myself in front of a bunch of nurses and Dr. Wilson.”

  Laughter bubbles out of me. “Chloe, millions upon millions of women give birth every day. I’m sure Dr. Wilson and the nurses have seen it all, babe. I wouldn’t worry about something that is completely natural…and, I’m sure your vagina will be just fine.”

  She crosses her fingers and holds them up. “Let’s hope so.”

  “So what about once he’s here…do you want to breastfeed?” I don’t want to push too much, but this is a conversation we’ve been putting off that needs to be had. I need her to start communicating with me about what comes next so I can tell if there’s a future there for us in her plans too.

  She nods slowly. “I think I want to try. Before I was pregnant, the thought of breastfeeding sounded disgusting.” She shrugs honestly. “But now…” Her eyes veer down to her belly as she rubs her bump. “I want to try. And when he’s sleeping with me in my room, it will be easier to feed him in the middle of the night.”

  Her words cut me sharply, the meaning behind them seeping through the lines.

  She’s planning on sleeping back in her room? But…but I figured she’d stay here in my room…with me.

  How would she know that when she doesn’t know how you feel, Silas? Why don’t you tell her what you’re thinking then?

  I go to say something, but her eyes land on the book sitting on my nightstand next to her.

  She stretches out her hand, picking up the book and reading the cover. “What to Expect: The First Year?” Her eyes flick over to me again. “What is this?”

  “What does it look like?” I reply a little too snarkily.

  “It’s a book and it looks like you’re reading it.” She flips through the pages to where my bookmark is in place.

  “Yeah.”

  “What the fuck, Silas?” she shouts and then moves to stand from the bed.

  “Chloe. Are you seriously mad right now?”

  She throws her hands in the air. “Yes, I am! You’re reading the next book and didn’t tell me?”

  My mouth is wide open in shock, the irony of this moment registering in my mind as I take in the angry stare of the woman standing across from me now. Months ago it was me yelling because she couldn’t be bothered to read a book, and now the tables have turned because I’m reading one without her?

  My head is fucking spinning right now.

  Moving from the bed as well, I slowly make my way toward her, but she’s just shaking her head, her hands placed firmly on her hips. “Chloe. We can read it together. I can get another copy. I just… I just wanted to be prepared, that’s all.”

  “But we’re supposed to read together. After the shit you gave me for not reading in the first place, why wouldn’t you tell me that you’re reading the next book?” The woman genuinely looks hurt as her eyes begin to well with tears.

  And now her emotions are in full force.

  “Chloe, come here.” I gently pull her toward me, encasing her in my arms. My gut tells me there’s more to her outburst right now than me reading a damn book, a book I just recently started, I might add. “What are you really mad about?”

  I can hear her sniffle, feel her shake from her cries in my arms, but she doesn’t speak. “I…the book…you didn’t…I don’t know.” I feel her take a deep breath and then she leans back, forcing me to release her as her gaze lands on our son in her belly. “I can’t believe he’ll be here soon,” she says, her eyes still focused on her stomach.

  “I know, and it’s going to go by fast.”

  “Too fast. I have no idea what I’m doing. As soon as I feel like I have a handle on the pregnancy, all the little fears about how to take care of him worm their way into my mind, and…” She stops speaking, but I feel like there was more that she was going to say, but in this moment I just wasn’t able to reassure her that we’ve got this.

  “Believe me, I get it. We have a little over ten weeks left. We still have the baby shower in a few weeks, we need to get the nursery finished, and now pack a hospital bag. I also found a birthing class nearby and signed us up, but we’re going to get it all figured out.”

  She lifts her gaze to me once more. “You promise?”

  “Yes, Chloe.” I move my hand from her hip to her cheek, framing her face and marveling in her dark green eyes. “I told you, I’m in this.”

  “I want to read the book too, Silas.”

  “Then we’ll read it together. I can start over from the beginning.”

  She nods, wiping at her nose with her sleeve. “Okay.”

  “Alright.”

  I carefully help Chloe back in the bed, shaking my head internally at how quickly she flipped a switch on me, but part of me knows it’s hormones, and the other part of me wonders if she’s not just afraid of how to care for our son when he arrives, but when he does, what happens with us as well?

  Chapter 14

  Chloe

  “Breast pump!” Valentina shouts across the living room.

  “Yes!” Grace, Wes and Shayla’s housekeeper, smiles gleefully as her and her partner celebrate their win in the game.

  “Never in a million years did I think I’d be at a baby shower where people would be drawing things such as a breast pump and episiotomy,” Nonna leans over and whispers to me as I finish chewing the bite I took of my sandwich.

  “Yeah, that wasn’t very pretty.” I briefly recall the red marker Waverly chose for the blood in her picture for an added effect. “But with friends like Shayla and Waverly, I expected nothing less.”

  “This is fun though,” Nonna continues, directing her gaze to me this time. “It means a lot to be at a baby shower for my next great-grandson.”

  “Thank you, Nonna.” I reach over and clasp her hand in mine, truly grateful that this woman has welcomed me into her family, a family that I’m feeling more a part of with each passing day.

  It’s the day of my baby shower, and despite feeling as big as a hot air balloon, I’m having a really good time. Plus, I’m always down for a party with plenty of food, cake, and presents that are all catered to me.

  “So is my grandson still treating you well?”

  “He’s doing a decent job,” I reply jokingly, even though internally I’m undecided about in what manner she means.

  Is he fulfilling my sexual needs when I need them? Yes.

  Is he reassuring me every time my insecurities and hormones rear their ugly heads? Yes.

  Is he so damn good at handling my outbursts and crazy moments that I wonder how he could possibly still want to be around me? Yes.

  But the question still remains if he plans on doing this still after the baby is born—a conversation that I know we need to have, but I’m terrified of instigating. The truth is, I’m petrified of his answer. I’m scared to think that we would have to figure out how to go back to a platonic relationship after we’ve basically been in one for the past three months, especially this close to the baby being born.

  I mean, I’m pretty sure the man has feelings for me. It would be hard for him to argue otherwise with the way he touches me, holds me, and anticipates what I need before I can even figure it out myself.

  But I also remember what he said about relationships, how he avoids them. We are bound together by this child, but that doesn’t mean he has to
be tied to me romantically. His feelings could just be of the protective variety, out of concern for his kid. When we slept together, he told me to use him for the next four months, suggesting there was a time frame to our agreement anyway. But how am I supposed to give him up like this after he’s given me all of him in the past few weeks?

  Living and being with Silas has been eye-opening in so many ways. The uptight man I met last year has taken me by surprise, made me want and dream things I never thought I’d have, and surprised me by the complexity he possesses behind his stark exterior. I want to believe I’m important to him, not just because I’m carrying his child. I want to believe that we’ve connected. Everything he’s told me would lead me to believe that.

  But what if I’m wrong? What if I’ve let my heart beat for him, and then he rips it from my chest? What if things go sour between us and then all of a sudden we find ourselves in a courtroom, battling for custody and visitation rights for our child? What if his family—Nonna, Valentina, Mia, and Bianca—all decide to hate me because I broke Silas’s heart or vice versa and then I lose everything and everyone I’ve gained since I found out I was pregnant?

  Sweat builds in my palms and nerves start to run through me as all of these questions assault my mind for the millionth time in the last week.

  “Silas was meant to be a father,” Nonna continues, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I know he thought otherwise, but I’m glad this happened for him. I’m glad you happened, Chloe.” She squeezes my hand just as Shayla gathers everyone’s attention, giving me no time to respond.

  And the truth is, I don’t know how to respond to that anyway.

  I never thought I’d be a mother either, so does that mean that we’re meant to be? Or are we just two people destined to cross paths and give each other the gift of a child, but not be together, like many others do?

  “Alright, everyone. It’s time to open the gifts! Momma-to-be, come sit up here.” Shayla waves me to the front of the room to a cushioned chair centered in front of the fireplace.

  “Duty calls,” I say to Nonna before slowly rising from my chair and waddling over to the one I’ve been directed to sit in.

  Yes, I am so big that I’m waddling now.

  Waverly and Shayla start handing me gifts to open, the appreciative oh’s and ah’s of my guests echoing around the room with each outfit and necessary item I extract from a bag or box.

  The guest list was small, but the amount of gifts is not. I lose track of how many pajama sets, onesies, packages of diapers, binkies, and bottles I open, each one more adorable than the last. But then Shayla finally hands me the last present.

  “This one is from Nonna. We were instructed to save it for last.” She winks at me before placing the very heavy bag on the floor in front of me.

  “Okay.” I cast my gaze to Nonna, who’s sitting there with her hands folded in her lap, a knowing smile on her face, as I pull the tissue paper from the top of the bag and peer down inside to see a blue and yellow crocheted blanket folded down at the bottom.

  Pulling it from the bag, I place it on the top of my thighs and run my hand over the soft yarn that has been stitched together by hand, the name De Luca, etched on it in black. “Nonna…”

  “Each one of my grandbabies gets one, a crocheted blanket made by these hands.” She holds her hands up in the air and wiggles her fingers. “Silas and all of his sisters got one when they were born, and now I get the honor of making them for my great-grandbabies too.”

  Tears start to form in my eyes, the overwhelming feeling of adoration over-taking me. My son will have a gift made by his great-grandmother, something she poured time, effort, and love into.

  I’ve never had anything like this. Hell, I don’t even know what my grandmother’s name was, let alone my great-grandmother.

  But my son will. He will have cousins and aunts and uncles. He will have a great-grandmother that will probably claim he can do no wrong. And for some reason, that knowledge makes me both happy and sad at the same time.

  “Thank you,” I mouth to her across the room, not trusting myself to speak at the moment.

  And as the tears fall and I continue to run my hand over the blanket, I allow myself to feel everything—the fear, the excitement, the love that being with Silas has given me.

  And the family he’s given me and my son, too.

  * * *

  “How are we going to fit all of this in your car?” Waverly asks, surveying the stacks of gifts in Shayla’s living room. The last guest has finally left, leaving just me and my two best friends alone.

  Shayla and Waverly are currently attempting to clean up as I sit in the same cushioned chair I was in while opening presents, my feet now propped up on an ottoman. My ankles are swollen, my belly is so big I can’t see my feet, and the late afternoon exhaustion is beginning to hit me.

  I have five weeks left until I deliver, which means I officially can’t see my feet or vagina anymore, I’m getting up at least four times a night to pee, and the only thing that brings me joy is food or Silas’s dick.

  “Silas insisted I drive his SUV over here,” I reply before sipping on my water. I place the cup down on the table beside me and then lightly scratch my stomach under my navy blue maternity dress. I swear, my skin can’t possibly stretch anymore.

  “Oh yeah, that’s right.” She snaps her fingers. “What time did he say she needs to be home?” she asks Shayla, which causes my ears to perk up.

  “Excuse me?”

  Shayla flashes Waverly a wide-eyed warning. “He didn’t tell us anything, Waverly,” she grates out.

  “What are you two talking about?” I volley my sight back and forth between the two of them.

  “Nothing,” Shayla mutters. “So that blanket that Nonna made for the baby is pretty special,” she says, changing the subject, but still leaving me curious as to what Waverly’s outburst meant.

  The blanket in question is still in my hands, the colors perfect for the Finding Nemo nursery theme we agreed on. “I know. It’s amazing.”

  “So special,” Waverly says as she takes a seat on the couch next to me. “I love those types of gifts—the ones people make by hand or have meaning behind them.”

  “Well, the painting you did for us is pretty spectacular too.” I point to the canvas sitting next to the fireplace of a scene from the movie that Waverly painted by hand.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I love it, Wave. Thank you again.”

  “You’re welcome. So, how are things going between the two of you? Is the man still fucking your brains out when you need him?”

  I huff out a laugh. “Uh, yeah. Although with how big I am now, it’s not crazy fucking. More like lazy, side-by-side fucking, and only if I’m feeling like it. Sex when you’re this fat is utterly exhausting, just an F.Y.I.”

  She sighs dreamily. “Aw, I love lazy sex. Sometimes that’s better than the rough and rowdy kind.”

  “Agreed,” Shayla chimes in. “I feel more connected to Wes when it’s slow, like I can absorb everything more.”

  “Well, any sex with Silas is good.” I let out a heavy sigh, which has Shayla’s brows pinching together.

  “What was that for?” she asks.

  “What?”

  “That sigh…”

  I shake my head, desperately fighting more tears from coming forward. I’ve never cried this much in my life, and now all of a sudden everything makes me emotional. “I don’t know, you guys. I don’t know how to do any of this,” I admit, waving my hand toward the stack of gifts and necessities for my baby, even though I’ve read the books now and feel more prepared than I did eight months ago.

  “No one does, Chloe. You learn as you go. And you’re tenacious and determined, feisty and strong. You’re going to be an excellent mom,” Waverly declares, placing her hand on top of mine in reassurance. “Better than any of ours were,” she says, which then has me realizing that all three of us have lacked in the mother department.

&nbs
p; “I appreciate that. But it’s not just the baby…” My eyes drop to my stomach, where I rub circles over my belly button that has now popped out.

  “What’s going on?” Shayla drops the sponge in the sink and then makes her way over to the living room to join Waverly and me.

  “I don’t know what this is going to look like once he’s here, you guys.”

  “With Silas?”

  I nod. “I’m just so confused.” Shaking my head, I can feel my jaw clench as I fight back my tears.

  “Talk to us. What has you confused?” Waverly prompts.

  I take a deep breath and then let it all out. “Everything. We’re sleeping together, and the man is there for me in any and every way, but when we first had sex, he mentioned that it would be until the baby was born. So what happens then?”

  “Well, what do you want to happen, Chloe? I asked you this months ago when he had just kissed you and you didn’t have an answer. Are you any closer to one now?” Shayla says.

  “More importantly, what do you see after the baby is here? What do you feel that you want?” Waverly adds. “Because sometimes our hearts can tell us what our minds can’t put into words.”

  I close my eyes and envision the same images that have been taunting me in my dreams. “I see…the three of us together, as a family. I see Silas rocking our baby to sleep, him pushing the baby in a swing at the park, the three of us building sand castles together on the beach, Silas coaching his soccer team when he gets older.”

  “Are you two together? Or are you just co-parenting?”

  I let out a desperate sigh. “It feels like we’re together. He’ll lean over and kiss me randomly, grab my butt as he walks past me, the two of us will be lying in bed together as our son runs in and jumps up to join us…”

  “You’re in love with him,” Shayla says, causing my eyes to pop open.

  “What?”

  She shakes her head while smiling at me. “You’re in love with him, Chloe. Everything you just said? Those are the things I envision with Wes.”