Chapter Twenty-Four

Dylan

 

With Jen out for the day, I’d hit the gym with Mikey.

“Cold feet, yet?” he asked. We were playing one-on-one basketball.

He was taller. I was faster.

“Nah.”

I shot for a basket and sunk it. He blocked me from taking another shot.

“Is there ever a moment where you think you and Hannah rushed it?”

“Not on my end. When I’m in, I’m all in. My parents thought I was nuts, but once they met her and saw us together, they got it.”

I wiped a trickle of sweat before it dropped into my eyes. He tossed the ball at the basket. It circled the rim, then dropped in.

“How is it having her in your life all day every day?”

Mikey bounced the ball to me. “I love it. So far.” He chuckled. “It’s an adjustment, no lie. I can’t towel off after a shower and leave it on the bed until later that night anymore. There’s chick stuff around the house, of course. The bathroom shower nook, the counter, in the fridge. She has more of the closet than I do, and that whole room for her crafting business. But it’s great. I love seeing all the things that say Hannah, and it’s nice having someone filling in the gaps, you know? I don’t run out of milk or eggs anymore and if I forgot to let Rusty out in the morning, I don’t have to worry about a mess because she’s done it. On the flip side, she’s spending less money at the chiropractor because I remind her to get up from her work and stretch. And eat. She loses all track of time when she’s sewing.”

“Jen and I have spent a lot of days at each other’s places, so I thought I knew how it would be. Then she’s pregnant and she’s got all these worries…”

My phone rang in my gym bag. I set the ball down and jogged over to get it.

“It’s Lynn. Hey, Lynn.”

“Have you talked to Richard, yet?” Our financial adviser.

“No. Should I?”

She grumbled something incoherent. “He was supposed to call you already. You need to get your prenup set up and establish a tax plan for you and Ms. Donovan as a married couple.”

“We don’t need a prenup.”

“That’s what Jake and Mike said and their ladies realized it was smart business. When it’s only money, take your chances, but you have intellectual property to protect. Talk to her and set a meeting with Richard. Now, I gotta go and keep running interference for this wedding.”

Lynn hung up. Conversations with her were never longer than she needed them to be.

I turned to Mikey. “You and Hannah made the time for a prenup?”

“She’d started selling the stuff she made, so yeah. I don’t need a piece of her income.”

“But you don’t plan on divorcing.”

“Hell, no! But we made wills, too. Jen is practical. She’ll get it.”

I texted my fiancée a quick message, put my phone away, and retrieved the ball. “Let’s use this court time before it expires.”

No more chatting, just hard cardio.

Yesterday’s fight still left some lingering unease, so I hit the weights next with Mikey spotting me, pushing until muscle failure.

“You okay?” he asked as I sat slumped on a bench drinking water. His tone didn’t mean my physical state.

“Just a lot on my mind.”

“Hey, you should be stressed right now. A lot is happening.”

“Yeah.”

He set down two dumbbells. “Need to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“’Kay.” Guy-speak for I’m here if/when you want to.

I toweled off enough sweat to not be a drippy disgusting mess across the gym to the locker room and pushed to standing so I could shower. Ow. I walked like one of those automaton dolls and chuckled at how ridiculous it must look.

It was a good pain.

The hot water helped and I stayed in longer than usual, finishing up in the locker room the same time Mikey did. “Recovery meal?” I asked.

“As long as you’re buying.”

“Asshole.” He laughed.

The label had assigned us a trainer who was also a nutritionist years ago, so hard workouts and quick recovery methods had long been the norm. One, touring was exhausting if you didn’t have stamina, and two, as hot young rockstars, we were expected to look a certain way. But, during the off seasons, we just visited an exclusive gym, though Jake did a lot of his working out at home these days.

“Has Aaron responded to the invite?” Mikey asked.

“I don’t know. Beth sent that stuff out.” I unlocked my truck. “He apologized, man.”

He held his hands up. “It’s not that. We made peace. I just honestly want to know. Has anyone heard from him besides Bob?”

“Lynn, maybe.”

“It’d be nice to know he’s alright, is all. Think he’ll ever come back?”

“Nah…maybe. In time. If he really did meet a girl, his priorities are gonna change.”

Mikey nodded. “True that. I was pissed off at first, but now I feel a little guilty.”

“For what?”

“Brian’s my brother. He wouldn’t have met Aaron if it wasn’t for me and Aaron wouldn’t have been manipulated.”

I socked his shoulder. “Quit it. Shit happens for a reason and most people have to go through some hard time that makes them better on the other end. This is Aaron’s trial.” And despite being the youngest of us, he was a grown man making adult decisions.

“You’re right…which is why I said ‘a little’. Anyway, today was good.”

“It was.”

We did the manly slap-the-back hug thing and parted ways.

Jen wasn’t back yet when I got home. More sore than I wanted to be, I booked a massage. My back and calves were tightening up. Perk of being a celebrity? They come to you.

And before you get ideas, the masseuse is Sven and he’s a sadist.

His work felt like torture, then you woke up ready to take on the world.

The door opened while I was on the table. “What’s this?” Jen asked.

“Post-gym recovery,” I muttered with my face in the hole.

“Ah. Carry on.”

She continued into the bedroom.

“Finished,” Sven declared.

“Thanks, man,” I groaned, and sat up. I kept my shorts on for these things, so I grabbed my phone off the coffee table and sent him the electronic payment.

His phone made a notification chirp a few seconds later. “Thank you.” He washed his hands in the kitchen sink, packed up, and left.

Jen came out of the bedroom in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings. “You’re shiny.”

I grabbed my towel. “It’s the oil. How’d it go today?”

“Good.”

“No details?”

“Well, my dress is meant to be a surprise until I walk down the aisle, so no. As for the florist, we made a few tweaks to their proposal and are set to go.” She retrieved cocoa mix and a mug from a cabinet, then opened the fridge to grab milk. She shook the nearly-empty carton. “Forget something?”

“Oops.” Supposed to stop at the market on my way home. “Sorry. I can do it now.”

“If you want. What was with that text?” She put the mug in the microwave.

“The Lynn thing?” I sighed. “She wants us to meet with Richard for a prenup.”

“Okay.”

My brows rose. “’Okay’? That’s it?”

“Beth and I discussed it.”

“Oh.” So I was the last to get a clue.

“And I already have a will, which will have to be updated, of course, but my books go to Shelley in the case of my death. If that is before she’s an adult, they’re held in trust until she’s twenty-one. My agent encouraged me to define the future of my intellectual property after I sold my first book.”

I did quick math in my head. “You were with Lee.”

The microwave beeped. She carefully removed the mug and stirred the contents. “Yes. It was before he started drinking, but it never felt right to leave him in charge of my books. He didn’t respect my work.”

“Then why’d you marry him?”

She sat on a dining chair. “Because he didn’t say those things in the beginning, and then it started as teasing. As jokes. So sci-fi wasn’t his interest. Big deal. Alcohol made him honest, but I didn’t see it that way at first. I didn’t know that was a version of the real him coming out. I thought it was only the booze making him mean, not that it lived inside him all along.” She drank a tiny sip of the hot chocolate and winced at the heat.

Every time. She never had the patience to wait for it to cool.

“So you thought your baby sister would be a good caretaker of your stories?”

“Well, that would’ve been Mom as her guardian. But, my royalties would help with college under those circumstances. I didn’t have a child of my own, so…”

I finished a glass of water and poured another. “But now you will.”

She nodded, acknowledging the new reality with a turn of her hand. “Yep. Hence, updates.” Her brows furrowed together. “It doesn’t feel fair to take everything from Shelley to transfer to someone else, so I’ll probably add that books published the year of the baby’s birth and afterward would go into trust for him or her.”

“You’ve thought a lot about this stuff.”

“I’m a widow, Dylan. I know firsthand how much the post-death legal crap sucks.”

She said it simply stated, not with pain, but I hugged her, anyway.

“I promise I won’t leave you with any crap beyond what the state does on their side. I can’t control that.”

She smiled and leaned her forehead on mine. “Thank you. I know.” She ran a hand through my damp hair. Her nails on my scalp made me feel like purring. “I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t trust you.”

“So you didn’t just get caught up in the romantic moment.”

She laughed. “No.” Then kissed me. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I’m birthing your child. I win.”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” I tickled her sides. She jerked.

“Careful! Don’t make me spill!”

So I picked her up, dumped her on the couch, and released a full-on tickle attack, only letting up when her cheeks were pink and she was gasping for air. “Mercy?”

“Please.”

“Mm, I love hearing you beg.” Still feeling playful, I chewed on her neck.

“Quit it, you barbarian!”

“Barbarian? I can go full Neanderthal if you like.” I wrapped my arms around her middle and started pulling her up.

Laughing, she said, “Dylan, stop!”

The lightness in her eyes was all I was really going for. Up close, her irises reminded me of the forest—flecks of green and brown and gold.

Mikey’s words about Hannah resonated with me, the overlapping pieces of a partnership. Jen could get too cerebral, so it was my job to take her out of her head sometimes and remind her of joy. Of fun. She’d blossomed so much over the past year. When we met, she was a woman desperate to move on from the pain of grief and betrayal, but didn’t know how.

“Consult your schedule and pick a time to meet with Richard, okay?” I said.

She sat up, hair now a sexy disheveled mess. “We have the doctor’s appointment on Thursday.”

“That’s this week?” I glanced at the calendar when she first wrote the entry, but—

She nodded. “You’re going to hear the heartbeat.”

“A month flew by.” I placed my hand on her belly. “How much can we see?”

“It’s still pretty tiny. Have you read any of the books, yet?”

“Sort of. I skimmed. Scared myself with skipping to the birth description.”

She eye-rolled, but was grinning. “Stick to the baby development one for now.”

Smart idea. “Tomorrow is cake tasting?”

“Right. And the girls should be able to pick up their dresses. Thursday morning is my OBGYN. Friday, the hem job on my dress should be done. Beth is doing a walk-through with the photographer right about now. Oh, and I have a hair appointment Friday afternoon. Manicure next week. At some point, Mom insists I have a bridal shower. Are you keeping the beard?”

My stubble had been growing out since dinner at her mother’s. “Do you want me to?”

Her eyes narrowed as she leaned away to scrutinize me. “I am more used to it, but it’s up to you.”

My hair grew fast enough it didn’t lake long to fill in. “What would you like to see preserved for posterity in our wedding photos? I can always shave on Christmas.”

It was nice to be with a woman that didn’t mind stubble or a full beard. Fans expected me to be short-haired and clean-shaven. Chicks I’d tried to date had complained about the scratchiness of new growth. Jen met me in hiatus mode and we know how that turned out.

“I want you to feel like you,” she said. “Whatever you think is the real you, ‘cause that’s the guy I’m marrying.”

I leaned in for a kiss. “Good answer.”

She put her hands on my chest. “Shouldn’t we hear the girl Bob hired to sing?”

“Forgot to tell you she’ll be performing at some bar tomorrow night. We can check her out then.”

“Oh, good.”

“Bob also said Lincoln was ‘swooning like a teenage fangirl’ when they found her.”

Jen laughed. “Oh my God. I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“Probably. You know Bob.”

“Yeah, Celeste said it wasn’t a romantic proposal.”

“Good thing that big rock made up for it.”

She shrugged. “Whatever works for them, right?”