The Baby He Wants: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance (8 page)

The man
trailed off and Savannah and his mother looked at him.

“
Tristan,
what is going on?” his mother asked.

Tristan
took a deep breath. “I got my test results back. I’m
perfectly healthy. But my sperm count is low,” he said eyes
cast down.

“
Your…sperm
count is low,” Savannah repeated.

“
We
might have some trouble conceiving,” Tristan continued, eyes
still on the floor.

“
Trouble
conceiving or unable to have children? Which is it?” Savannah
demanded.

Mrs.
Carrington rested her hand briefly over Savannah’s. “Let’s
start slow. Did you get a second opinion?” she asked Tristan.

“
No.
They did the tests several times. There was no mistake,”
Tristan said his voice heavy and tired.

His
mother patted his knee, “Don’t worry, we’ll get
through this.”

“
What
about the engagement?” Tristan asked.

Both he
and his mother turned to look at Savannah who shook her head, “I
don’t know what you want from me. I want to marry you Tristan
and I guess we can get through this. Of course I don’t know
what my parents will say about this. Maybe we should postpone an
announcement until we come up with a strategy for a way forward.”

“
Just…postpone?”
Tristan asked.

“
Yes,”
Savannah put her hand over his. “You’re the one I want
Tris; we’ll get through this, together.”

“
Indeed,”
Tristan replied dryly. He didn’t turn his hand around to hold
hers, but he didn’t move it away either. Everything was just so
confusing.

*****

Six
weeks after the music festival, after Ava still hadn’t gotten
her period, she went to the pharmacy to buy some pregnancy tests. She
went back home to commune with the cat which they were calling ‘Joe
Black’ due to its color and also because Ava loved the movie.

“
I
don’t know if I can do this. Do I even want to know?” she
asked it as it played with her hair. It liked to pat it and rearrange
it; roll in it. It had a serious hair fetish.

“
But
I gotta know, right? There’s no escape. If something is in
there…” Ava couldn’t finish that thought. She
locked herself in the bathroom, Bob wasn’t expected home for
another few hours; she had the house to herself.

Ava
stared down at the white stick in her hand. She squeezed her eyes
shut, counted to ten in her head and then opened her eyes one at a
time and forced herself to look down again. The cross taunted her,
mocking her with its pinkness. Ava could feel her tears threatening
and they blurred her vision but not the damning result. She was
pregnant.

"Shit,"
Ava breathed flinging the stick that represented her recklessness and
stupidity across the bathroom. It hit the opposite wall and Ava
watched distractedly as it fell to the tiled floor with a small
cracking sound. It gave her a small moment of satisfaction.

Ava
leaned forward, her head in her hands. She silently cursed herself
over and over as she visualized the sound of her whole world crashing
down noisily around her. The imagined noise was deafening and Ava put
her hands over her ears to block out the sound from her head. Ava
drew in a deep breath which turned into a choking sob as she dropped
one hand rubbing it across her belly as if she was trying to feel the
small life growing within her. She was pregnant. Joe Black came to
rub himself all on her leg. He seemed to realize that she was in
pain.

“
Mew,”
he said.

*****

"You're
incorrigible."

Tristan
stuck his head out of his bedroom. "Is that Jensen-speak for 'oh
my, Mr Carrington you're so devastatingly attractive I don't know how
the girls resist you'?"

Jensen
arched an eyebrow.

"I'm
taking that as a yes," Tristan called, ducking back into the
bedroom to put on his pants and shoes.

When he
emerged, it was with his jacket over one arm, his bow tie in his
hand, and a strip of candy in his mouth. "I need some help with
this tie."

"You
need some help, period," Jensen muttered.

Despite
the eye roll, he crossed the room to help out and Tristan let out a
muffled protest when Jensen yanked the dangling strip of candy out
from between his lips. "Hey!"

Jensen
tossed it over his shoulder and into the trash and Tristan chomped
down his current mouthful of sugary deliciousness before complaining,
"I was eating that."

"'Was'
being the operative word." Jensen fixed him with a stare.
"You're going to be at the gala in twenty minutes. You can hold
out 'til then."

"But
I don't want to," Tristan said. "I'm a multi-billionaire. I
should be able to eat candy whenever I want."

"And
yet you pay me a ridiculous salary to stop you from eating candy
whenever you want," Jensen said, taking the jacket from his arm
and holding it out for him to slip into. "Your mind is an
enigma."

"Wrapped
in a taco, wrapped in a Jensen-shaped cage of denial," Tristan
filled in. "My life is so hard."

"Someone
should hold a telethon," Jensen deadpanned, straightening the
sleeves of his jacket and then turning Tristan around so he could
check the front.

Tristan
opened his mouth.

"No,
I'm not holding a telethon for you."

Tristan
closed his mouth and pouted. "Way to crush my dreams. I don't
remember that part of your job description."

"Oh,
it's there," Jensen said breezily. "Crushing your dreams is
somewhere between helping you dress yourself and making sure a gold
digger doesn’t clean you out." He brushed the lint off
Tristan's shoulder. "Ignoring your shady wit is something I
throw in for free."

Tristan
sighed. "You don't feel like quitting that any time soon, do
you?"

"Nope."
Jensen tilted his head and pursed his lips. "I question your
taste in jackets."

Tristan
spun around in a circle. "Huh? This is perfectly tailored."

"I
know," Jensen said. "I hired the tailor. I'm talking about
this." He flipped the corner of the jacket over to reveal the
bright green lining.

Tristan
had picked it out himself.

"Were
they out of decent colors?" Jensen asked. "Were you forced
to skin and boil Kermit the frog to produce a dye?"

"I
like it," Tristan said cheerfully. "It matches my eyes."
Jensen snatched the bow tie from his hands and Tristan gulped.
"Please don't strangle me."

Jensen
rolled his eyes. "Do I look like Savannah?"

Lifting
his chin to let Jensen fix his bow tie, Tristan winced at the memory
of the time Jensen was referring to. Savannah and he had been at a
party when her friend Bunny had gotten a bit too tipsy. Tristan had
rescued her from a handsy guest and offered to take her home but
Savannah had overheard them. She’d taken it all wrong and had
literally tried to strangle Tristan with his bow tie. He had only
been saved from certain death by the eerily efficient Jensen, his
assistant.

"You
definitely do not look like Savannah," he said with a grin. "The
lack of murderous intent sets you apart."

"I'm
flattered," Jensen said, putting the finishing touches to
Tristan's bow tie.

"You
should be," he agreed. Jensen stepped back and Tristan looked
him up and down in appreciation, taking in the neatly pressed lines
of his tux and the pink bow of his lips. "Did I tell you how
incredible you look tonight? How do you do it? It's like...a gift"

"You
said it, not me," Jensen pointed out. "Now are you ready
because your mother will not be happy if you’re late."

"Yeah,
yeah. Mama dearest mustn’t get mad," Tristan mumbled. "I
get it. It gets old though. Tiring."

"I'll
make you a doctor's appointment for that," Jensen said calmly.
His phone beeped in his pocket but he didn't even need to look at it
as he said, "Your car's waiting."

Tristan
held his arm out with a flourish. "You need to teach me your
secret."

Jensen
took one look at him and promptly turned away to gather the rest of
their necessities.

"If
I taught it to you, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore,"
Jensen said coolly, grabbing a set of keys and holding the door open
for Tristan to exit. "You know what they say about two can keep
a secret and all that."

"But
we could-"

"No."

Jensen
shepherded him through the door and locked it behind him while
Tristan took a moment to admire his efficiency. "How about-"

"No,"
Jensen said again, firmly. "Would you like me to put it in
Tristan-speak for you? Get your own cool."

Tristan's
shoulders slumped.

Jensen
patted him on the arm. "Suck it up, buttercup." The pat
turned into a grab as he led Tristan over to the elevator. "Your
adoring public awaits."

*****

Tristan
had been to plenty of parties where the host had an assistant with
him at all times. They were there to whisper in their ear, giving
names, details, business updates, and anything else the host needed
to know to appear polite and well-informed. It was always obvious
what they were doing and Tristan was appropriately judgmental of
hosts who took that approach.

Luckily
for Tristan, he was spared that dilemma. Jensen was awesome enough to
have invented some handy ear buds to save him any embarrassment.

"Nabeel
Ahmed."

"Nabeel,"
Tristan greeted with a smile. "Good to see you again."

Across
the room, he could see Jensen's lips move and he heard his voice
through the ear bud. "He runs a hedge fund in Dubai and made
forty million last quarter. Has a wife and three kids and is into
tennis."

Tristan
cleared his throat as subtly as he could.

Jensen
sighed. Tristan had once seen Jensen cut himself on a lawn mower
(which was not something he ever,
ever
wanted to experience again) but he
could've sworn he sounded even more pained now as he muttered, "He
likes Lord of the Rings. The book and the movies."

Tristan
grinned as he shook his guest's hand and launched into conversation,
"Y'know, I've been hearing awesome things about the new Hobbit
movie."

He heard
another quiet exhale through the ear bud. He was pretty sure that was
the sound of Jensen dying inside.

*****

"So
the Reichenbach Group was able to make money hand over fist during
the so-called financial crisis of ’08. It's all about staying
observant and reading the signs of the times," Tristan said as
he nibbled on a delicious prawn-pastry hybrid. He made a mental note
to get the recipe later. "I'm sure you'll be more than happy
with what my team comes up with, Dr Cortese."

The
doctor raised her champagne glass with a smirk. "I'm sure I
will."

"And
the thing about our team is-"

A hand
came to rest on his shoulder and Tristan looked down as Jensen
addressed the two women Tristan was talking to. "I'm so sorry to
interrupt, ladies, but Mr Carrington is needed for a moment. I'll
return him to you as soon as possible."

"It
was great to catch up with you," Tristan said quickly before
Jensen could pull him away. "We should schedule a golf game one
of these days."

Dr.
Cortese smiled and turned to her girlfriend as Jensen coaxed Tristan
away. He made a stealthy lunge for a tray of hors d'oeuvres but was
smoothly intercepted by Jensen before his fingertips could brush
another tasty prawn thing.

"I
arranged for any leftovers to be delivered to the penthouse tomorrow
morning," Jensen said before Tristan could ask, "and the
cook's agreed to provide you with the recipe."

Tristan
sighed happily at the thought of all those pastries waiting to be
eaten. "How would I cope without you?"

"Terribly."

Tristan
laughed. "Wow, don't sugar coat it or anything." He let
Jensen bring him to a stop in the hallway and asked, "What's
up?"

Jensen
looked perturbed. "We have a situation."

"Do
tell."

"There
is a young lady of dubious background in the lobby. She doesn’t
have an invitation but she says she knows you,” Jensen said
watching Tristan carefully. “I have a feeling she’s here
to cause some sort of trouble."

"What’s
her name?" Tristan asked with a lift of his eyebrow. "And
why are you looking at me like I planned this?"

"She
says her name is Ava Richards and the two of you met a few weeks
ago?"

“
Ava?”

“
Yes.
An African American woman. She doesn’t look like your usual
type.”

"People
like something different once in a while." Tristan held his arms
out with a smile. "And I don’t have a usual type."

"Uh..huh,"
Jensen murmured under his breath.

"Did
she say what she wanted?" Tristan asked. "And maybe why
she’d show up here?"

He
grimaced as he pictured the awkwardness of it; wondering if Ava was
in a Grateful Dead t-shirt and maybe some distressed jeans.

Jensen
shook his head.

"Fine,"
Jensen said reluctantly. "Maybe you should go and see her?
Heaven knows what she might do if you don’t. However, I feel I
should come with you to provide back up. And you can’t stay
long, you have your speech to give."

Tristan
saluted. "Yes dad."

Jensen
rolled his eyes and then took his position in front of Tristan.
“Let’s go,” he said.

They
descended to the lobby of the building using the escalators and
walked to the reception desk. It was definitely Ava; in a bright
yellow sleeveless maxi dress that outlined her figure to perfection.
She had on gold hoop earrings and her curly hair was piled on top of
her head in some deliberately untidy way.