Page 21 of A Brilliant Spring

“I think it would do you and the baby some good if you get out this afternoon. Go for a walk around the block. It’s only early March, but it’s quite mild today. It might be nice to get some fresh air.”

•••

I’m lacing up my shoes to go for a walk when my phone goes off.

Rhys: Any news?

Me: Nope. Not yet.

I stand there, waiting for his response like an idiot, and when those three annoying little dots disappear and nothing comes, I grind my teeth and push my phone into my jacket pocket. I grab my keys and wallet and shove them into my other pocket and leave my place. It’s not until I’m in the elevator when my phone goes off again.

Rhys: You busy? I’m outside, can we talk?

Ha. God has a sense of humour.

Me: I was actually on my way out to go for a walk…I suppose you can join me.

When the elevator doors slide open, I see down the long hallway to the glass doors and window and there’s a tall figure with black hair pacing, looking at his phone. My heart shakes inside my body and I need to catch my breath.

Rhys: Okay. See you in a min.

I smile to myself, biting the corner of my lip as I put my phone away and walk toward the door. When Rhys hears the doors shake, he turns around and his eyes soften and the corners of his mouth curl. I feel a sharp jolt in my chest and a flutter in my stomach. His hands grasp the metal handle and he opens the door for me. I whisper my thanks as I pass him. I breathe in his woodsy, citrusy scent and my panties are drenched. Traitorous hormones. He looks good. His hair is shorn tight around the sides, but the top is a perfect length to tangle my fingers in while he bucks into me. Oh my God, get your head out of the gutter. I start walking and he catches up, shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets.

“So, you wanted to talk?” I turn to face him as we walk, and he’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, bobbing his head. I can almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he thinks of what to say.

“I just want to say…oh fuck, I feel so stupid.” A small giggle bubbles out of my lips and he shoots me a glare, but his face quickly softens, and he chuckles too. His shoulders drop the tension he’s holding. I take a deep breath as we continue walking, letting the March air clear my mind and my lungs as I wait for Rhys to continue. “What I’m trying to say is…if the baby is mine, I want to be there for it. For you.” I stop and an ugly wave of red crashes through my body.

“If it’s yours? God, Rhys. I can’t believe that after all this, you still don’t believe me.” His face burns red as it screws up and twitches.

“Fuck, Riley. It’s not about me believing you. I heard from Dante that you hooked up with him that night I ran into you at the hotel.” I stop dead in my tracks and my mouth gapes open. I’m speechless. He clearly hasn’t been paying attention to anything I’ve been saying.

“You’re a moron,” I say, and Rhys looks like I’ve just slapped him. “I can’t believe you haven’t heard a thing I’ve been saying. I was already about a month pregnant by then, I just didn’t know. I didn’t start getting morning sickness until a week later. Fuck me, Rhys. I thought this whole paternity thing was just a way to hurt me, but it’s more than that. You truly don’t believe it could be yours. That day you ran into me on the street and came over to talk, you fucked me bareback, or did you forget? Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I shout out obscenities, and as people pass us on the busy Toronto sidewalk I get glares and wide-eyed looks of curiosity. Heat rises to my cheeks from my public outburst. I curl my hands into fists, count to ten, and release my breath, clenching my fingers. I hazard a glance at Rhys and his face is white. At that moment, my phone starts ringing. I shake my head at him and walk away a few steps to answer the phone.

“Yes, this is she.” I feel the heat beside me, and I know that Rhys has caught up. “Yes, thank you. I’ll check my email now. Thanks again,” I say, hitting the red button and immediately opening my email app.

After a few clicks, I log into my health account and open the bloodwork that Rhys and I did. I scan the results, then shove my phone in his face. His eyes grow wide, and his face pales and twists with remorse. I rip my phone out of his face and stick it back in my pocket with a huff. I spin on my heel and start stomping away, calling over my shoulder, “Congrats, daddy. It’s real now.”

Chapter

Twenty

Elissa

I’m a nervous wreck as I walk into the Black & Wells tower. I’m sweating through my blouse and it’s below freezing outside. I haul ass past the security guard with a nod and make a quick jaunt up to my office before the meeting. My office is still on the twenty-first floor as I refuse to take up residence in my father’s office on the twenty-second floor. I toss my jacket onto my desk and drop my clutch on my chair while I rummage through my desk to find my spare deodorant. I swipe the bar under my arms and pick up a file folder to fan and cool myself down. My heart is racing, and I’m feeling a little lightheaded as I try to control my breathing. I should have taken the day off, like Riley said. For fuck’s sake.

I grab the folder, my oversized clutch with my laptop and phone inside, and walk toward the washroom. I fluff my hair in the mirror, reapply my lipstick, and shake out my blouse, trying to settle my nerves. Bracing myself against the counter, I stare at my reflection, trying to psyche myself up. You can do it, Elissa. It’s just Brandt. You can still work with him…I hope.

Before I even reach the boardroom on the top level of the building, before I even leave the elevator, I feel the air humming with energy. My skin tingles and prickles with goosebumps as my limbs grow heavy. My tongue feels gritty, like the air is sucking all the moisture from my mouth. I roll my eyes shut, trying to brace myself for this interaction, but instead, all I smell is Brandt. His wintry, woodsy scent; like a burst of fresh air. My heaving lungs gulp air, bottling the scent inside, storing it for later. And when the doors slide open, I see his towering six-foot-one build and broad shoulders facing away from me, as he nods his head and chats with one of the board members, Donovan. I clench my insides, staving off the leaking that threatens just from looking at him. His strong, chiselled jaw and cheekbones are flawless as his perfect lips move, chuckling at whatever Donovan said.

It’s like I’m walking in slow motion, wading through the thickest of currents as I approach them. Brandt’s golden locks are styled to perfection. The sides are sheared close to his scalp, a new look for him. Fuck, does he look good. I notice my lips are parted, and I smash them shut before the drooling starts. With every step I take, the humming in my body turns to thrumming, and my heart is beating like a bass drum. I swear, if you were standing close enough to me, you would hear the rhythm pounding inside.

My skin prickles and burns as I near him, and my pussy and heart ache for the man that walked away. I shouldn’t feel like this. I should be fine. I should have someone balls deep into me by now. But all I see is him. Brandt. Tingles erupt in my fingers, and I want to reach out and slide my hand into his, locking our fingers together. I want to push his broad, sturdy chest until his back smacks against the wall, my hands sliding down his chest, over the crest of his straining pants as I lower myself to my knees. I want to hear the metal grind of the zip as my nimble fingers pull it down. I want to hook my fingers in the waistband of his pants and pull them down, boxers too, allowing his cock to spring free, bobbing in front of my face.

Pressing my thighs together, I stop dead in my tracks. I shake off this incessant wanting and try to refocus my thoughts on work. As I get closer to Donovan and Brandt, the hairs on my nape stand, an icy shiver runs down my spine, and a pang ripples through my heart. Fuck, I want him. I fucking need this man. Too bad he doesn’t want me. I offer the gentlemen a weak smile as I round the corner and head into the glass-walled conference room. Walking to the far side of the room, I place my stuff down at the head of the table and saunter over to the long, skinny table that holds pastries and coffee. I help myself to a cherry Danish and a large paper cup, filling it to the brim with coffee and heaps of sugar. The pulse under my skin thrums harder as I feel Brandt’s presence enter the room. I take my pastry and coffee and hurry back to my spot to avoid unnecessary conversation.

Once everyone is situated, coffees and pastries sitting in front of them, I clear my throat, stand, and smooth out my leather skirt. I press a couple of buttons on my laptop and it mirrors onto the projector screen behind me. My hand grasps the presentation clicker as I run through the sales of the last month from all our newspapers and magazine outlets. Everyone seems to nod and hum as I explain the sales targets for next month, and a scorching burn rolls over my body. Every inch of my flesh singes and burns. I know Brandt’s eyes are trained on me, and I don’t need to look to know that his stare is hard and fuelled with anger. Rolling my shoulders back and tossing my hair, I boost myself. Why the fuck is he furious? He’s the one who wanted things to end. When I finish with my portion of the meeting, I sit down and turn it over to Donovan to go over marketing strategies for boosting readership.

Still feeling the heated gaze on me, I refuse to acknowledge it. Like fuck if I’m going to willingly give him the satisfaction of knowing how badly this is fucking me up right now. But the thought of his eyes still focused on me does something to my stomach, as it flips and flops around inside me. My panties grow moist, knowing that I’m his sole focus right now, knowing that he isn’t paying attention to this meeting as much as I am. A fire ignites in my belly, and it takes all my willpower to continue this meeting and not adjourn early so I can take care of this burning fire that’s growing inside me. Thankfully, my phone distracts me from my thoughts.

---