Mr. Grayson: Billionaires’ Club Book 4: Chapter 17
Last night with Alex was informative, to put it mildly. It took getting him out in the surf to finally see a different side of the man, a side that I felt entirely more comfortable around. The ice-cold water of the Pacific made both of us race out as quickly as we’d run in as if there really was a shark loose in the shallow water. It was crazy and fun, and if I was honest, I was shocked Alex had followed me out into the surf. I had to be careful with this man, though. I could tell that if I weren’t careful, I would fall for the guy, and I wasn’t about to have another man stab me in my heart again.
The weird part was that I stopped feeling like Alex was an asshole after spending last night with him and speaking candidly. It was quite lovely to be here, and Alex was the perfect gentleman after we were done for the night, showing me to a hot shower so I could clean up and get warm. When I got out, dressed for bed, and walked out to the balcony of the room I was staying in, I saw him standing out where we’d talked earlier, staring thoughtfully out at the surf. Maybe I conjured up some horrible stuff from his past, and that’s why he was still outside and alone with his thoughts.
I’d gotten to know him a bit better, but I wasn’t comfortable enough to walk out there and ask if he was okay. I felt a bit shitty that I might have brought up unpleasant memories, but I’d had no idea where to start when I asked the man about who he was outside of work. He was so damn attractive that part of the time it was challenging to think, but I knew I’d touched on a nerve when his features darkened and his voice lowered when it came to talking about his family.
I backed off at that point. Anyone could sense that the pain from his past was the reason he was intense, and it was also the reason he wouldn’t talk about it. Being the person I was, I wanted to help him, and now I wanted to know more.
Goddamn it. I had to get off these thoughts, or I’d start in again, and the man would gladly throw me out of his house. It wasn’t my business to ask him questions. I wasn’t his girlfriend or his wife. I was his business partner, and as far as I could tell, whether he confided in me or not, he did just fine doing his job without my help. I was the one who sucked and had employees robbing her in broad daylight. I was also the one who was down here with Alex because I’d started down a path of lying to protect myself.
None of it mattered. Last night was a fun way to get to know Alex a little better, and because of his attempt to help me, I could happily say I wasn’t a nervous wreck at the moment. I woke up feeling rested, and that was enough to make me feel grateful.
It took the smell of fresh bread coming from outside of my room to get my butt out of the most comfortable bed I could’ve asked to sleep in—while being on the verge of homelessness. I’d been awake for about an hour, but I was curled up under the soft, goose-down comforter, watching the ocean, so I was in no hurry to move until my stomach growled.
A chill filled the room. Unfortunately, because I was flustered by my unexpected power outage, all I’d thrown in my duffle was underwear, bras, leggings, and tank tops.
I walked downstairs, briskly rubbing my arms as I followed the scent of freshly baked bread to a display of chocolate muffins, croissants, and a large bowl of freshly cut fruit.
“Wow,” I said with a smile, seeing Alex wearing jeans and another tight shirt—this one long-sleeved. “This smells delicious.”
“Chocolate muffins are on the menu for the woman to nurse a hangover from her nightly confessions.” He turned from his French press coffee carafe, and, my God, he was more beautiful than ever with his unstyled, wavy hair. “You cold?” he asked, the goosebumps on my arms giving me away.
“Would I look like an idiot if I said I was?” I laughed. “Especially after demanding to run into the ocean last night?”
“You couldn’t look like an idiot if you tried.” He winked and rubbed his hands on a kitchen towel. “Let me go grab you something. You obviously didn’t have much light to pack at your house with last evening either,” he teased, and his smile was radiantly sexy.
Great, now everything the man was doing was sending me into a hormonal frenzy. His dark blond hair with its sexy wave was beyond fuck-a-licious—as Nat would say. His ass was more pronounced, and with a firmness that only the distressed denim jeans he wore could outline exceptionally well for me.
I reached for a white square plate that Alex had set out next to the muffins and other baked goods. I smiled, recalling that Alex was keenly observant about my greatest weakness and most immense love—chocolate anything. The bite of the muffin I took melted in my mouth like butter.
Does the man bake too? I thought with a stupid smile on my face.
“Here you go,” he said. “The hoodie might be old and raggedy, but it’s warm.”
I took the sweatshirt and smiled. “Varsity Football?” I arched an eyebrow at him. “Is this yours, or was it left with the house when you bought this place?”
“Believe it or not, I was the starting quarterback for our varsity team when I moved to Beverly Hills to live with my grandfather.” He sipped his coffee while setting a small cup in front of my plate and pushing the cream and sugar closer. “It pissed off a lot of people, but eventually, I was screwing the cheer captain, so…” he laughed into his coffee when I rolled my eyes.
“So, he’s a jock, and I saw that surfboard on your Jeep too. You surf a lot?”
“By the look on your face, I’m guessing you can’t visualize it. Even after I ran out into the ocean with you last night too.”
“I’m just trying to imagine you doing all of that in your three-piece suits,” I smiled.
“Aren’t we passed making the mistakes of Breanne’s judgments of me?” He arched an eyebrow back at me. “I may be a little busier with work these days, but in the past, I got out and enjoyed good times.”
“Hmm,” I studied him, trying not to imagine this man as a quarterback or riding a surfboard because that would probably turn me on and lead to trouble.
“What’s that look? It’s like the judgy-Bree look or something.”
I exhaled. “No judgy-Bree looks. It’s just that you don’t seem to be the athletic type, that’s all.”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s because you haven’t experienced me in bed.”
“I’ve experienced enough of you in those tight shirts that you’re trying to tempt me with to know that you at least work out.”
He laughed. “And I don’t typically bring baked goods into my house, either.”
“So, you didn’t bake for me. Shitty host.”
“Hey, I got my ass out to the best bakery in Malibu to make sure you woke up to delicious baked goods. After seeing you drowning in candy last night, I took a wild guess that you like sweets.”
“You get points for that,” I laughed. “This is delicious, by the way, and thank you very much.”
“Give me a sec,” he said when his phone rang. “Hey, Laney.” A curious smile crossed his face as he turned to look out the windows, giving me another treat while I ate my muffin. “Sure, no problem. Why the fuck isn’t Collin on vacation yet? Aren’t you like eighty-nine months pregnant by now?” He listened quietly and then nodded. “Sounds good, kid. I’ll ask Breanne, but I already know the answer is yes.”
I listened to him laugh and then turn back to me with the wide eyes and beaming smile I was quite attracted to. “You up for killing some time with the woman we need to get approval from for the Saint John’s children’s wing remodel?”
“We don’t have the blueprints, do we?” I asked.
“She’s down, Laney,” Alex said, then hung up the phone.
“Seriously, don’t we need the blueprints?” I asked, excited to start this project but concerned about not getting it right, never having been to the children’s wing of the hospital or having met the parents of the unborn child the ward was going to be dedicated to.
The heartbreaking journey that Dr. Collin Brooks and Dr. Elena Alvarez—now Brooks—had been on together ended beautifully with their friends and the hospital board approving the remodel of the pediatric unit in the name of the baby they’d miscarried, Baby Jo Brooks.
It was an honor to be heading this up for Alex’s friends, and that I was trusted to enhance it from what Brooks’ architects had envisioned. At the moment, I was a bit concerned that not having the blueprints and the visual of the unit would ruin my attempt to create something so sacred.
“You don’t need them,” Alex said. “Jesus, you look like you’ve seen a damn ghost.”
“I just don’t want to screw this up. After hearing more about this project, it’s quite an honor, but—”
“Relax,” he smiled. “Elena’s heading over, and I’m happy to introduce you two. She’ll give you the rundown while we drive to the hospital.”
“Oh,” I said. “What a fun idea.”
“I had plenty of other fun ideas for the day,” he said, “but my very pregnant friend is pretty demanding these days, and I doubt she’ll like to be kept waiting.”
“Very pregnant?” I smiled. “I didn’t hear this part of their story.”
“Yep,” Alex answered with a laugh. “I’m not sure what you’ve been made aware of in the few times you’ve talked to our architects about this, but after the dust settled and Collin got Elena to himself for a month, well, you can fill in the blanks.”
“They made up for lost time?” I smiled.
“And the proof that their honeymoon was spent making babies is in her belly.” He took a sip of coffee.
“Twins?” My eyes widened.
“No, just the one.” He cocked his head to the side. “If you ask me, her doctor must be reading the ultrasounds wrong because Elena’s tiny body looks like she’s carrying triplets.”
“Jesus Christ, man,” I said. “I hope you don’t talk like that around her?”
“She’s a blue-blooded American, but her Cuban streak is always engaged; do I look like a fool?”
“One never knows with men,” I eyed him. “You can be insensitive pricks sometimes.”
“And your mean streak, it seems, can be just as harsh.”
“When does Elena get here, or are we heading to her place?”
“Collin and Elena’s beach house is right up the beach from here. She called while she was taking her morning walk, and she asked if I was up for heading to Saint John’s. She wanted you there.”
“She’s got to be getting close. Is Collin with her?”
“The dipshit doesn’t start his vacation until tomorrow,” Alex rolled his eyes. “Elena had him bring her to their beach house for the weekend since she’s getting uncomfortable lately.”
“Well, let’s keep her happy and busy today,” I smiled. “I’ve wanted to see that unit anyway, and having Elena give us the tour is ideal.”
“I feel the same,” he said. “I’ll call for the driver and the Rolls. It’s comfortable, and it keeps me in the back seat so you both can’t talk shit about me while I’m up front with the driver.”
“Funny excuse for calling a driver.”
“It’s either that or head to Beverly Hills to get Elena’s Land Rover. Another dumbass move on Collin’s part was to bring her here in her favorite sports car. Now, we’re all in Malibu with a bunch of two-door vehicles.”
“Sounds like a supportive husband move on his part,” I countered.
“Or a move the man made because his uncomfortably pregnant wife would’ve probably beat the shit out of him for not complying with her crazy pregnancy cravings.”
“You can be so damn charming one second and such a stupid dick the next.”
“It’s called having a personality,” he winked. “If I were Mr. Perfect all of the time, how would I get you to date me?”
I choked as soon as he said it, and his eyes showed me that look of being serious, understanding, and empathetic from last night. Holy shit. Was he fucking with me or baiting me? Either way, I could only smile bashfully like a goof in response.
“And you know you want to date me after I behaved last night too,” he said.
“I don’t date men who have no sympathy for pregnant women.”
His eyes narrowed. “When you’re having my kid,” his features were soft and playful again, “I’ll take note of everything I’m doing wrong as a heartless bastard.”
“Exactly, quit acting like the tin-man without a heart.” I cringed at that one. Why so goddamn nerdy, Bree?
“Losing your witty banter already?” Alex smiled while he focused on his phone. “The Tinman was only funny last night when we were both caught in the middle of friendly fire from your lies.” His eyes widened and his voice lowered, teasing me.
“I’m gonna take a quick shower, and then I’ll be out in a few.”
“Bath tonight, shower this morning,” he smiled. “I’ll get you a fresh towel. Follow me.”
When I finished drying my hair, the door was damn-near busted down by banging on the other side of it.
“Fucken-A, Alex,” I said, startled by his horror-movie knock. “I’m out!”
“Yeah, we’re fucked,” he said nervously.
“Fucked?”
The tone of his voice made me jerk open the door to see the man was in a complete panic.
“Elena’s in labor,” he said. “My driver busted ass to get here. Thank God I called him, and he was on his way before Elena got to the house. Jesus, we’re so screwed.” The guy was nearly panting.
“Do we need to call an ambulance?” I asked, rushing past him. “Is she in active labor?”
“I don’t even know what the fuck that means?”
“Alexander!” I heard a wail from downstairs. “I’m leaving with Henry.”
“The hell you are, Laney,” Alex sighed in defeat. “We have to get her to the hospital now.”
“Let’s get some towels and warm up a heating pad, grab ice chips and anything else you can for the trip…just in case,” I said.
“What? Why do we need all that?” Alex asked, looking at me like a three-year-old toddler being given instructions.
“Oh, my God!” I heard a tearful cry. “My water just broke. This isn’t happening.”
“That’s why!” I snapped to Alex. “Get your ass downstairs and help her. I’m right behind you. Call a goddamn ambulance and Collin too.”
I knew that if Alex and I didn’t get our shit together, poor Elena wasn’t going to make it to Saint John’s. I heard her talking more steadily, and Alex kept her calm while I threw on my clothes as fast as I could. By the time I reached the lower floor, Alex had clean towels, ice chips, a heating pad, and Elena waiting for me as we rushed out together. Everything was perfect except the fact that we were gingerly helping Elena into a black Rolls Royce, not the ambulance that should’ve been here.
“Where’s the ambulance?” I asked Alex while Elena clung to him, breathing through a contraction as he sat next to her.
“It’s Southern California,” he said as nicely as he could, his expression dark with panic and fear. “Ten bucks says there’s an accident, and it’s stuck in traffic.”
“Oh noooooo!” Elena’s cry started normally and ended in an octave that would’ve made Mariah Carey envious, sharing her panic and pain with both me and Alex.
Time to change the mood.
“Well, if any pregnant woman was going to head to the hospital in active labor,” I smiled when Elena blew out a breath, and I reached up to wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes, “they’d all love the comfort of a luxurious Rolls. Let’s get you to your husband. You’re about to meet your sweet little one.”
With that, we loaded up, and Alex and I looked at each other when Alex’s fearful eyes realized that if Elena were to somehow deliver in this car, he was on the receiving end. He eyed me for help after the vehicle sped away from his house, and Elena went from sitting in between us to switching mid-contraction and laying her head in my lap.
Her contractions were getting close, and now it was all up to our side of the highway staying clear and the driver busting his balls to get Elena to delivery at Saint John’s in record time. That’s when the car slowed, and I reluctantly looked out the front window to see two lanes of highway lit up with brake lights that seemed to go on forever. We were officially jammed in traffic, most likely due to an accident. Holy shit. If there were ever a time that Alex and I needed to perform well as partners, it was right fucking now.