Pretty Broken Baby: A Pretty Broken Short Story Page 3

  “Congratulations, Dakota, Sam. Looks like you’ve got a healthy baby boy.” The doctor held a wriggling, irate infant above the sheet, and I fell head over heels in love for the third time in my life. “Dad, would you like to cut the cord?”

  DREAMING

  DAKOTA

  Two weeks later…

  A strange sound woke me from a deep sleep. The clock on the nightstand showed it was three in the morning. Two thoughts crossed my mind at once. First, this was the longest I’d slept at one time since having the baby. And second, my husband was missing. I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, moving slowly. The incision across my tummy was healing well but still a little tender.

  I slipped my arms into the robe draped across the end of the bed and padded down the hall to the nursery. Cassidy slept in her crib, facing downward, knees folded, bottom in the air. A stuffed monkey nestled in her arms. I patted her back. She whimpered and thrust her thumb into her mouth. Sometimes she woke up screaming, plagued by nightmares. Her cries broke my heart, but they were becoming fewer as the days passed. Tonight, she seemed at peace.

  A muffled thump and the creak of floorboards drew my attention down the hall. I moved noiselessly through the darkness to the guest bedroom. When I opened the door, I found Sam sitting on the balcony. He wore only his black silk pajama bottoms, our son resting on his bare chest. They made quite the picture, my virile husband and the fragile newborn. Beyond the clear glass walls of the balcony, moonlight glittered across the surface of Laurel Lake, and the quiet lapping of waves broke the night silence.

  Instead of going to them right away, I hid in the darkness, to watch the father-son bonding. Sam spoke to him in a quiet, deep voice, his words soothing but inaudible. Baby Braden wrapped a tiny fist around Sam’s big finger and stared up at his father with rapt fascination. I moved closer to hear their conversation.

  “You’re a handsome boy,” Sam said. “You’re going to have all the ladies after you, and they’re going to want one of two things—your dick or your money. Maybe both.” Braden’s pink lips smacked together. A flurry of emotion overwhelmed me. The sight of my big guy holding his son brought the sting of tears to my eyes. Sam caressed a finger over Braden’s pert nose. “Don’t be stupid. Wait for the right girl. You’ll know her when you meet her. She’ll be worth the wait.”

  Braden cooed and blinked his eyes. Over the past few days, they’d taken on a blue hue, similar to mine. Sam cupped the tiny round head in one of his palms, placed his opposite hand on the baby’s bottom and lifted him until they were eye to eye. A faint fuzz of hair glowed in the moonlight. He was going to be blond, like Sam.

  “I’m sure you don’t know this, but I married your mom, not once, but twice. That’s how much I love her, and I’d marry her a third time if I had to. When you’re bigger, I’ll tell you all about it. That’s the kind of girl you need to marry; someone smart, who challenges you and makes you a better man." The corners of Sam's lips curved upward, and his sharp features softened. "We're going to have a lot of fun; you, Cassidy, me, and your mom. I’m going to take you all around the world. You’ll go to the best schools. And someday, you can take over the family business.”

  “Spoken like a true Seaforth,” I said. Sam’s head snapped in my direction. A sheepish grin curled his lips. “What if he wants to be a plumber or a mechanic?”

  “He can be whatever he wants. Those are respectable professions.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that.” I moved out of the shadows. Moonlight sharpened Sam’s features, highlighting his square jaw and straight nose.

  “Get over here.” His low, commanding tone lifted the hairs on my forearms, lighting my skin on fire. “Spying on us?”

  I took a seat beside them on the lounge chair. “No.”

  “Liar.”

  "I woke up, and you were gone." I smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “I was worried.”

  “Little man was restless and so was I. I was afraid he’d wake up Cassidy, so we decided to hang out for a while and enjoy the beautiful weather."

  “It is nice, isn’t it?” I snuggled deeper into his side and drew in a deep, cleansing breath.

  “Perfect. Like you.” He nuzzled the tip of his nose along the curve of my ear.

  I laughed. “Yeah. We both know that’s not true.”

  One of his strong arms came around my shoulders, pulling me closer, while Braden rested in his lap. “You’re perfect for me.”

  “Yesterday, you said I was stubborn and pigheaded.” We’d had a small tiff over vacation schedules. He’d asked Xavier and Layla to coordinate a trip to Hawaii for us, but we couldn’t seem to agree on the timing. And the thought of leaving the children sent me into a mini panic attack.

  "You are, and I wouldn't have you any other way." His lips traveled along the length of my jaw. “Go back to bed. Get some rest while you can.”

  “Are you sure?” As much as I wanted to hang out with my guys, sleep came at a premium, and the comfy king-size bed beckoned. A yawn escaped me. I stretched and blinked back the tug of sleep. “I could use a few more hours.”

  “Absolutely. We’ve got this, don’t we, little man?”

  Fatherhood suited him. He’d taken a month off from the office to spend with us, working from home, while Beckett and Rhett handled the daily running of the office. He changed diapers without complaint. In the mornings, he dressed and fed the children while I caught a few hours of healing sleep. We’d hired a nanny to help during the days, but Sam preferred to tend the children as much as possible. He didn't want his kids to be raised by a stranger.

  “I have no doubt. Is there anything you can’t do?” I teased.

  He gave this a few seconds of serious thought. “I’ve never been able to sing.”

  We laughed together. The sound floated on the night air, lighthearted and musical. Sam pressed a long and lingering kiss to my lips. The taste of peppermint tingled on my tongue. When we pulled apart, I cupped his cheeks in my hands and gave him one last kiss. Happiness too perfect for words threatened to spill out of my being like brilliant rays of sunshine. This moment was worth every bit of pain that we'd gone through to get here.

  HEAVEN

  DAKOTA

  One month later…

  Sam held Cassidy on his right hip as we walked up the sidewalk to Rockwell’s house. Her curls bounced with each of his long strides. She babbled to him, her eyes alight with excitement, and patted his face occasionally to punctuate her words. The baby bag draped over his left shoulder, and he gripped the handle of Braden’s carrier in his free hand. Every three or four steps, he paused to shift the weight of his burdens.

  "Are you sure I can't take something?" I trailed behind them, unfettered, carrying only the baked macaroni Mrs. Pittman had made for the occasion.

  “I’m sure. Stop asking.” He stopped at the front steps. “You could get the door, though.”

  Before I could act, Crockett swung open the door. At first glance, I hardly recognized him. The swell of his biceps bulged against the sleeves of his T-shirt. While I’d been busy tending to our children, he’d hardened into a full-grown man. The thought brought the sting of tears to my eyes.

  "You look beautiful," I said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze.

  “You still look like a butt-face,” he replied, but his eyes twinkled at the compliment.

  “Cracker!” Cassidy clapped her hands in delight. She couldn't manage his proper name, and the nickname had stuck.

  “How’s my angel?” Crockett took his niece from her father and rested her on his shoulders. She squealed excitedly and dug her fingers into his hair. “Hey, Sam.” Crockett stepped to the side, holding the door open for us to cross through the house. “Everyone’s out back, by the pool.”

  “What’s that smell?” Sam asked. The acrid scent of smoke burned my nostrils.

  “There was a slight grilling incident. Rockwell caught his chef’s apron on fire." A smile broadened Crocket
t's mouth. "Tucker pushed him into the pool to put it out. It was epic."

  “Tuck’s here?” Sam’s face lit up at the name of his friend.

  “Hell, we’re all here.” Beckett’s deep voice boomed across the surface of the pool. He emerged from the water, pulling himself over the side in one smooth motion. Venetia waved a hand from a float in the shallow end. Their daughter, decked out in a tiny pink bikini and water wings, rested on her lap. Cameron and Vanessa lounged on deck chairs at the far side of the pool. Their kids splashed and shouted from the water, too engrossed in a squabble to notice our arrival.

  "We wouldn't miss your baby's first official outing," Tucker said. He wrapped an arm around Fallon's waist, pulling her tighter to his side. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and nodded in wordless greeting.

  “Let me see those babies.” My mother emerged from the kitchen, arms extended to envelope us in a hug. “Oh, my goodness. Look how big this boy is.” She glanced up at me, her face beaming with excitement. It melted my heart to see her so happy. “He’s going to be a tall one like you, Sam.”

  “I hope he kicks your ass. A lot,” Rockwell replied. The impromptu dip in the pool hadn’t fazed him. He’d changed into dry clothes, his wet hair slicked back, aviator shades perched on his nose. His comment brought a round of laughter.

  “I’d pay to see that,” Tucker added. His unruly hair fluttered in the warm breeze. Fallon shook her head, but her lips curved up at the corners.

  “We’d all pay to see that.” Sam fake punched Rockwell in the shoulder. They grinned at each other, their mutual admiration apparent in their eyes.

  I pressed a hand to my heart, taking in the scene around me, bowled over by the perfection of the moment. Friends and family, my children, my husband—all gathered around the shimmering blue water on a cloudless summer day. It was too much to comprehend. Emotion welled inside me, closing the walls of my throat.

  “Dakota? Are you okay?” My mother’s gentle voice formed an anchor, the way it always had. She frowned over the top of Braden’s head. “Sam, get her a chair. She’s white as a sheet.”

  "I'm fine, Mom." Despite my confident words, my knees felt weak, and I sank into the chair Sam provided.

  “You've been doing too much." Mom's forehead puckered. She handed Braden to Sam and took a seat beside me, patting my hand. "Sit down and rest for a minute. Two babies in diapers are more than enough for any person."

  “You did it.”

  “I did, but I had your father to help.”

  At the mention of my dad, a new swell of emotion brought the sting of tears to my eyes. We never spoke of him, but he'd been in my thoughts often since Braden's birth. What would he have thought about his grandchildren? About Sam? He'd just turned forty before his death. Now, I realized how young he'd been.

  “He’d be proud of you, baby. He always knew you were special.” Mom’s eyes glittered with tears.

  “Do you miss him still?” I asked against the thickness of my throat.

  "I think about him every day." She swept the backs of her fingers over my cheek. "And I see him every time I look at you, in your eyes, in your smile, and I hear him in your laugh. He's always with me."

  “But you love Rockwell?” I took her hand in mine and curled my fingers around hers. The sadness in her eyes transformed into an airy lightness.

  “God help me, I do. The man’s a handful, but he’s made my life worth living.”

  As if sensing Mom’s words, Rockwell looked up and met my mother’s eyes. An unspoken conversation passed between them. I had the greatest respect for Rockwell and trusted him with my life and the lives of my husband and children. It only seemed fitting that I should trust him with my mother as well.

  “I’m glad for you, Mom,” I said.

  “And I’m happy for you, too, honey.” She hugged me tight to her breast. I breathed in her clean soap-and-water scent, feeling like a little girl again. “You’ve got a beautiful family. Those babies are the sweetest things. I’m going to spoil them rotten.”

  “Cracker, no!” Cassidy’s high-pitched voice carried across the distance. She ran toward me, arms uplifted, giggling. Crockett chased after her, caught up to her in two strides, and scooped her high over his head.

  “You little monster,” he teased, then dropped her gently to the ground again.

  “More. More.” She hopped up and down until he did it again.

  Sam stood next to Rockwell at the grill. Our eyes met mine across the patio. The other people fell away. The chatter and laughter subsided until it was only us. Him and me. My love. He shook his head once, in a movement imperceptible to everyone else, like he couldn't believe our luck either. For the hundredth time in the space of an hour, my heart swelled until I thought it might burst. I had everything I’d ever wanted and more. We were together. We were a family. And we were the luckiest two people on earth.

  Before You Go

  DID YOU ENJOY READING THIS SHORT STORY?

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  Also by Jeana E. Mann

  Felony Romance Series

  Intoxicated

  Unexpected

  Vindicated

  Impulsive

  Drift

  Committed

  Pretty Broken Series

  Pretty Broken Girl

  Pretty Filthy Lies

  Pretty Dirty Secrets

  Pretty Wild Thing

  Pretty Broken Promises

  Pretty Broken Dreams

  Pretty Broken Baby (2017)

  Pretty Broken Hearts (2017)

  Pretty Broken Bastard (2017)

  About the Author

  Jeana Mann is the author of sizzling hot contemporary romance. Her debut release Intoxicated was a First Place Winner of the 2013 Cleveland Rocks Romance Contest, a finalist in the Carolyn Readers’ Choice Awards, and fourth place winner in the International Digital Awards. Since then she’s received several awards to add to her resume. She is a member of Romance Writers’ of America (RWA).

  Jeana was born and raised in Indiana where she lives today with her two crazy rat terriers Mildred and Mabel. She graduated from Indiana University with a degree in Speech and Hearing, something totally unrelated to writing. When she’s not busy dreaming up steamy romance novels, she loves to travel anywhere and everywhere. Over the years she climbed the ruins of Chichen Iza in Mexico, snorkeled along the shores of Hawaii, driven the track at the Indy 500, sailed around Jamaica, ate gelato on the steps of the Pantheon in Rome, and explored the ancient city of Pompeii. More important than the places she’s been are the people she has met along the way.

  Be sure to connect with Jeana on Facebook or follow along on Twitter for the latest news regarding her upcoming releases.

  Connect with Jeana at

  www.jeanaemann.net

  jeanamann@yahoo.com

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  EXCLUSIVE SNEAK PEEK

  PRETTY BROKEN HEARTS

  BRONTE

  Every week day, Monday through Friday, the hottest guy I’d ever seen came into my sister’s coffee shop. Seven-thirty to be precise. The only thing more attractive than his punctuality was his square jaw and the dimple in his chin. He ordered the same thing without fail. One chocolate muffin with peanut butter chunks, and a large black coffee with a shot of espresso. I waited by the cash register, watching the hand
s of the clock over the display of fresh bakery items, counting down the seconds until he arrived. My sister, Jo, smiled indulgently from her place behind the counter.

  “Don’t worry, sis. He’ll be here. He’s always here.” Her words offered little comfort.

  “You don’t know that,” I replied. In my experience, life threw curve balls, often and unannounced.

  The bell over the door dinged, and he walked in. I exhaled the breath I’d been holding and tried to calm my racing heart. He eased into a seat by the window, the same location he always claimed. He was so tall that his long legs barely fit beneath the small bistro table. Sparks of red, mahogany and auburn threaded through his rich brown hair. A navy suit of the finest Italian wool stretched across his broad shoulders.

  “Bronte.” Jo lifted an eyebrow and jerked her head in the direction of Suit Guy.

  I forced my feet to move. He was too beautiful for words, which was a good thing because I’d gone mute. My fingers twitched with the urge to sketch his profile and capture the straight nose, the high cheekbones, his deep-set eyes. Smoothing my apron over my thighs, I stood in front of him and waited while he studied the menu. Like he hadn’t seen it thirty-two times already. I knew, because I counted each of his visits.

  “Can I take your order?” I asked.

  Gray-blue eyes brimmed with kindness, crinkling at the corners. Full lips curved into a smile. “I’ll have the usual. Thanks, Bronte.”

  “You’re welcome.” I turned and walked to the counter, where Jo watched me with raised eyebrows. “He’ll have the usual.”

  “Did you say good morning?” she asked.