Craving Him (13 page)

“She’s at Northwest Memorial,” he said, staring down at his feet before meeting my eyes again with a pained expression. “Emmy . . .”

“Don’t speak,” I warned, pushing my palm between us.

He nodded. “One thing,” he whispered.

I expected an
I love you
. Perhaps a
Be safe
, or a
Thank you for going
.

“Will you call me with any updates?” he asked.

I nodded and left. With no kiss good-bye, and no loving words exchanged between us, I fled into the night.

• • •

When I arrived at the hospital and asked for Fiona Stone, I was directed to the maternity wing on the fifth floor. Walking by the babies in the nursery window made everything more real. The soft coos, the happy new parents, and sleep-weary nurses bustling past me were a wake-up call. This baby was coming. Whether Ben and I were ready or not, Fiona was going to be a mom.

I found her room, the door left partially opened, so I took a deep breath and entered. Fiona was sitting on the bed in a turquoise-and-cream silk robe, slipper-covered feet folded underneath her, sipping a Pellegrino and flipping through
Vogue
magazine.

What the hell?

She didn’t look ill. In fact she looked phenomenal. She had a healthy glow to her skin and red lacquered nails, and her hair and makeup were styled perfectly.

“Fiona?” My voice cracked.

Her eyes lifted to mine and her mouth puckered in a frown. “Where’s Ben?”

“He’s not coming.” I wanted to feel excited, proud of that fact, but watching her face fall, I only felt empty. This woman was in love with my boyfriend and there would be no happy ending.

“Why not?” her confident voice shook ever so slightly.

“I told him I’d check on you myself, and he stayed home.” I didn’t mention that he’d asked me to call him with news.

She swallowed, as if summoning her courage. “I get it. You’re threatened. You made him stay behind and came yourself so he wouldn’t have to.”

I peered down at the shiny tile floor. She wasn’t far off from the truth. I didn’t want to feel threatened by her, yet I did.

“He sent me, Fiona. He didn’t want to come.”

She took a fortifying breath and met my eyes. “You’re nothing like the girls he has dated in the past. You know that, yes? I never thought I’d measure up to the models he attracted. London Burke . . . and many others. They were younger, thinner, prettier.” She looked down, picking at an imaginary piece of lint on the blanket beside her. “But then you came along. I don’t usually hire female assistants but I knew you’d pose no threat. From your dirty tennis shoes”—her eyes dropped to my feet—“to your ratty ponytail . . .” She clucked her tongue, her eyes pinning me in place.

She was doing her best to cut me open, but my tough outer shell remained intact. There was one key thing she didn’t understand about Ben that I did. It wasn’t what was on the outside that attracted him to me rather than her. She was a vindictive, manipulative witch. I was wholesome and loved him just for him. He got that. She clearly didn’t. And I wouldn’t be explaining that to her; I just stood my ground, keeping my face even and composed, doing my best to look bored by this whole exchange. She wasn’t a threat. The baby might come between us eventually, but I was confident Fiona never would.

“Don’t you worry about what will happen when we learn this baby is his?” Her hand went to her swollen bump, stroking it lovingly.

I didn’t answer—couldn’t. All the air was sucked from my lungs. I worried about that every waking moment. I had dreams of beautiful little babies that were a perfect mix of Fiona’s dark, shiny hair and Ben’s brilliant hazel eyes.

“I could get him back, you know. He’s been with me for five years. He hardly dated. We traveled the world together. Dined at five-star restaurants, made love in the finest hotels; I built him up to where he is today. Ben isn’t the type to forget that. He’s extremely loyal.”

I forced air to return to my lungs and found my voice. “There’s a good chance this baby isn’t his. Do you really think he’ll still be at your beck and call then?”

“That’s what your poor, simple mind doesn’t understand. I’m friends with his mother. I’m practically part of the family. I’ll always be around.”

At the mention of his mother and their ongoing relationship, something in me snapped. I was done being nice. I’d claw her eyes out if necessary and not think twice. “And if I called his mother and told her you seduced her son, took his virginity, how do you think she’d react?”

Fiona laughed maniacally. “I seduced him? If that’s what he told you, he lied.” A smug smile blossomed on her mouth. “Far from it, sweetheart. He wanted me. And trust me, I was all too happy to oblige. You two have been together, what eight months, nine?”

I nodded. She was keeping track.

“He and I have a history that spans five years. When you’ve made it that long, then you can talk to me about how well you know Ben. In the meantime, buzz off.” She flicked her wrist in my direction.

“Why do you think I’m here tonight and he’s not? He’s not interested in you, Fiona,” I enunciated each word slowly, letting them sink in. “Your attempts at winning him back . . .” I shook my head. “It’s getting awkward. He’s never been interested in more with you. You were convenient. A warm body while he was on the road. I’m the person he wants to build a life with.”

Her smooth exterior began to crack ever so slightly. Her jaw twitched and tightened. “No. You think that, but I know him. He doesn’t want to be tied down. Not with some nobody.”

“Fiona, Ben’s asked me to move in with him.” My tone was direct, harsh, but it had to be to get through to her.

Her bottom lip trembled, the only indication that I’d finally succeeded.

“I’m not the enemy here,” I continued, my tone softer this time. “You need to let him go. Even if the baby is his . . . he’ll never be yours.”

Striding from the room on shaky legs, I rounded the corner and stabbed the button for the elevator.

16

Ben

• • •

Emmy’s brow was crinkled in deep concentration, her laptop balanced on her knees as she sat next to me on the sofa. I loved her work ethic and dedication to my career but I wouldn’t have minded her taking a break now and again, either.

We’d been discussing options for my charity and whether it made more sense to start something of my own or join up with an established organization. We’d considered building orphanages for AIDS victims in Africa, setting up freshwater wells in Central America, and sponsoring early childhood education programs here in the United States..

“Thank you for staying over,” I said, leaning down to breath in against her neck. Emmy had been staying over more and more, and though she hadn’t officially agreed to move in yet, she’d brought a duffle bag and left it in my closet. She knew I needed her here to sleep. Her toiletries and some spare clothes were inside, not yet unpacked, but I knew it was only a matter of time. A step this big should scare me, but instead it made me ridiculously fucking happy.

It was hard for me to admit it but I needed her. I’d never needed anyone, but this sweet southern girl was different. She had been from day one. Her refreshingly real attitude had knocked me on my ass—floored me right from the get-go.

I still remembered meeting her for the first time in Fiona’s office and chuckled out loud.

“What?” Emmy asked, her eyes lighting up with a smile.

I knew she loved seeing me lighthearted like this. And early memories of her did that to me. “I was just thinking about the first time we met at the Status headquarters.”

Her smile faded ever so slightly. “Oh, God.” She buried her face in her hands. “When I spilled that tea all over the floor? I was a nervous wreck around you.”

Interesting. At the time, I’d assumed it was just Fiona that made her so nervous and unsure.

“I can’t even imagine what you must have thought of me,” she continued.

“I thought you were stunning,” I said, brushing the back of my knuckles along her cheekbone. “You didn’t fit the mold of Fiona’s typical assistant and I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You looked so sweet and innocent. I wanted to corrupt you.”

“I thought you barely noticed me,” she said, glancing down.

“I noticed everything. How erratically your pulse fluttered in your neck when you looked directly at me.” I trailed a fingertip down the column of her throat. “How your eyes peered straight into mine. I knew you saw the real me, and I was intrigued. But I also knew I should leave you alone. I knew Fiona wouldn’t take the news well that I wanted to fuck her assistant.”

Her quick inhalation of breath told me I’d hidden that fact well. That, or my choice of language surprised her.

“I thought you were out of my league,” she admitted softly.

I laughed. “No. The other way around, sweetheart. You were real and genuine. I knew my mountains of baggage would likely scare you away. But everything in me wanted to devour you.”

“I picked up on that once you started texting me.” She smiled widely. “But I knew right from the beginning you’d be dangerous for me—that it wouldn’t be just about sex. I knew I could fall hard for you.”

“The feeling was mutual, trust me. Scared the shit out of me, too. I’d never needed anyone before. But after that first night we spent together you were a magic cure for my insomnia; I knew you were special. That you and I had something special.”

Her little hand found mine and squeezed.

“And the fact that you cared enough to convince me to stop relying on those pills and always wanted to take care of me . . . I’d never been treated like that by a woman. Most were more concerned with getting my autograph, finding out if the shit they’d seen in the tabloids about my mother was true, or posing for a picture with me to post to their Instagram. It was all about saying they’d met me. You didn’t care about any of that.”

She met my eyes. “Not a bit. The nurturer in me just wanted to feed you.”

I truly couldn’t imagine my life without her in it. I’d never been one for commitment, but I needed to make sure she stuck by my side no matter what the future held. I couldn’t fuck this up.

• • •

Emmy was in my bathroom drying her hair while I prepared a light breakfast of poached eggs and fruit for us. It turned out having her here made me want to cook. I transferred a bowl of blueberries and sliced pineapple to the breakfast bar just as my phone began to ring.

I padded into the living room and found it on the console table.
Damn
. It was Fiona.

“Hello?

“Hi, love,” she cooed in her sharp British accent that I used to think was sexy.

“Did you need something?” The last thing I needed was Emmy finding me on the phone with Fiona, though I could still hear the blow-dryer running.

“Yes, I actually wanted to tell you that I’ve decided to go through with the paternity testing after all. It’s driving me mad not knowing.”

“Uh . . . okay. I’m happy to pay for it.”

She huffed. “You know that’s not why I’m telling you. I don’t need your money, love.”

No, I supposed she didn’t. She had plenty of her own. She ran a top modeling agency in New York. She made 15 percent commission on everything I made, and I did quite well. “When will you know?”

“The test is on Tuesday, so about a week or ten days after that. I’ll be sure to call you.”

“Okay.” I didn’t quite know how I felt about all this. Emmy and I seemed strong right now . . . but if the baby turned out to be mine . . . I didn’t know.

“Is Emmy there now?”

I could still hear the blow-dryer running. “Yes.”

Fiona paused for a long moment, the sound of her breathing soft yet distinct. “Ben, does she know your past like I do? Does she know everything, including your little indiscretion from years ago?”

My mind reeled to follow her line of thinking. Then it came roaring back to me. My mistake two years ago. Of course I’d told Fiona about it at the time—as my manager it was possible she’d need to keep it from leaking to the public. I didn’t know why she was bringing it up now, however. My stomach dropped. Unless she planned to use it against me with Emmy. “Don’t fucking wreck this for me. I will walk away from your agency so fast.”

“Ben, I’d never do anything to hurt you. You should know that. I’m just asking a simple question. Does she know?”

“No. And I hope she never will. Now drop it,” I growled and hung up, resisting the urge to hurl my phone against the wall. Instead I let it fall from my open hand and onto the carpet with a soft thud.
Fuck
. I felt like punching something.

“Who was that?” Emmy asked, looking concerned and standing in the doorway.

I hadn’t heard her there. “Ah. Nobody, baby.”
Nice lie, asshole.
God, what was wrong with me?
She frowned. “Come here.” Emmy walked into my outstretched arms and laid her head against my chest. My heart was pounding like crazy. I couldn’t have anything ruin us. “It was Fiona, actually.”

“Oh?” She stepped back out of my arms.

“Yeah, she wanted to tell me she decided to have the paternity testing done after all.”

“Okay.” She visibly swallowed, her hands clenching at her sides. “So we’ll know something soon.”

“Yes, in one to two weeks.”

Emmy took two more steps backward. “Why is she doing it now? She said . . .”

“I know.”

Her arms crossed over her chest in a defensive stance. “If this is some angle to try and get you back. I mean, if you turn out to be the father . . .”

I tugged her close again, stroking her hair. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere. It’s me and you, babe.” I only hoped it stayed that way.

Watching Emmy move around my apartment, the striking force of realization that hit me was almost too much. I couldn’t lose her. I knew with certainty I would marry her tomorrow if she’d have me; I’d move to Tennessee if that’s what she wanted. Christ, it’d put us farther away from all the drama in my life and give us peace to just enjoy each other. I imagined us owning a country home that she could fill with beautiful things and delicious foods. I imagined watching her belly grow round with the life we created. It made me weak in the knees to realize how badly I needed something I didn’t even know I wanted.

I felt something powerful surge in my chest. As soon as Fiona’s test came back, I could have Emmy like I wanted. Like she wanted—marriage, a real commitment, a home we built together, and children in our future. Just us. No more drama. No more Fiona. I couldn’t fucking wait.

• • •

“Shit, man, I never thought I’d see the day.” Braydon shook his head, the beer bottle suspended halfway to his mouth all but forgotten. He stared at me, a look of surprise etched into his features, like I’d grown a second head. But I guess that’s what happened when you told your best friend you were thinking of popping the question.

He was right, I’d never wanted to commit, never wanted to have someone in my life—until now. I used to love my life—coming and going as I pleased, jetting off to exotic cities, adding stamps to my passport, and not having to answer to anyone, except maybe Fiona. Now it all seemed so incredibly empty. And dull. And meaningless. I wanted more. And having Emmy by my side provided a certain comfort, a feeling of being loved and cared for that I had never known was missing. God, I sounded pathetic. If I actually said these things out loud, Braydon would probably tell me to grow a pair. And rightly so. I needed to have my man card checked. But shit, love made a person do crazy things. And I wanted to put a big old diamond on my baby’s finger, see her eyes light up, and take her to the bedroom to make love to her slowly, to make her understand that she was mine forever.

He took a slug from his beer. “Ben mother-fuckin’ Shaw settling down, committing to one woman, just one pussy to sink into for all of eternity. Damn, bro.”

I shot him an angry scowl. His words were meant to scare me but they had the opposite effect. Knowing Emmy would be mine for the rest of forever sounded pretty fucking perfect to me. Although I hated knowing he’d been inside her, too. He knew just how perfect and sweet she was. The thought didn’t sit well with me. I downed the shot of bourbon and held up the empty shot glass, signaling the bartender for another.

“Although it is Emmy. Shit, if she looked at me like she does you, I’d probably be getting down on one knee, too,” Braydon said, looking contemplative.

“Yeah, right.” We both knew Braydon preferred his single life way too much to make a commitment like that. His one serious girlfriend fucked him up pretty royally, too, so I didn’t see him jumping on the relationship train anytime soon.

“Wipe that angry-ass look off your face. I’m happy for you, man.”

“Thanks,” I bit out.

“Can I be best man?”

“You promise not to talk about my future wife’s pussy ever again?”

A lopsided grin lifted his mouth and he chewed on his lip as if deciding whether he could live with my request. I slugged his shoulder and the grin disappeared in a damn hurry. “Ouch. Fuck, man, you’re touchy.” He rubbed his shoulder. “She’s all yours. You have nothing to worry about. That girl is crazy in love with you, too.”

I smiled, knowing he was right. Emmy was perfect. And soon she would be mine. Forever.

• • •

It took me a moment to place the voice on the other end of the phone. Her broken sobs made it nearly impossible to make out what she was saying. “Fiona? Is that you?”

“Y-yes,” she cried, heaving a breath inward.

“What happened? Is the baby okay?”

“Fine. The baby’s fine.” She quieted for a moment, seeming to pull herself together, because when she spoke again, her voice was much clearer. “The results came back.”

My stomach sunk like a stone. “Okay . . . that’s a good thing, right?” It was time to face the music.

“I suppose so.”

“What’s it say, Fiona?” I held my breath, waiting, while my heart jackhammered against my ribs.

“It’s not yours, love.” Her voice went whisper soft like she was breaking the news to me gently.

My fist pumped in the air, but I held back the shout of joy I wanted to let trip. “Wow. So your last fertility treatment must have worked, then?”

“Seems so,” she said, her voice full of melancholy.

“How do you feel?”

“Shocked. Surprised. I really thought it was yours. And I’d gotten over thinking that you and I were going to be together, but I thought I’d always have this little piece of you. . . .”

We each remained quiet for a few moments, letting the weight of this information sink in.

“Fiona?”

“Yes, love?”

“I need to ask something of you.”

“Anything.”

“I need you to let me go, to release me from my contract early. I’m leaving Status to work for myself.”

She hesitated briefly, releasing a heavy sigh. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” I confirmed.

“Then I’ll tear up the contract. Consider it my gift to you for five loyal years.”

“Thank you.” The tension in my entire body went lax at once.

“I’ll always love you, Ben.”

“I know.”

“If anything ever changes between you and Emmy . . .”

“It won’t. Good-bye Fiona.”

“Bye,” she murmured.

I wasn’t going to be a father. A sense of relief washed over me. Fiona was out of my life and I was free.

I dialed Emmy the moment I pulled myself together.

“Baby!” I couldn’t contain the excitement in my voice.

“Hi there. What’s going on?” she chuckled softly at my enthusiasm.

“I have some news.”

“Oh yeah? Everything okay?”

“Everything is better than okay. It’s fan-fucking-tastic, actually.”

She giggled. “Okay, so now I’m intrigued. What is it?”

“Two things actually.” I knew I was drawing this out, torturing her, but Christ, we’d waited so long to hear this news, I didn’t know how to just blurt it out. “I just talked to Fiona. I’m not the father.”

Silence.

“Emmy? Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” she whispered. I could imagine she was shaky and breathless, just like I’d been when I’d heard. “Oh my God, you don’t know what a relief this is.”