The Marine’s Seduction (Storm Corps Book 1) Page 5

  “That’s it. Measuring in at 157 beats per minute which is perfect for this stage of pregnancy. Isn’t that incredible?” Bristol asked, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Every time I hear it, I get teary-eyed. I just can’t believe there’s a baby inside me.”

  “Me either,” Roan admitted, “It sounds strong. I told you he’d be healthy.”

  “He? It could be a she, you know?” she scolded.

  “Could be, but the odds are not in our favor it’s a girl. My mom had five boys before she managed a girl,” he reminded her. “And you’re already calling it Junior, so I think your subconscious self knows it’s a boy.”

  Bristol threw her head back, laughing, and Roan admired the way her hair flew around her face. She was even more beautiful carrying his child. He’d always heard pregnant women glowed, but this was the first moment he understood what that saying meant.

  “I don’t care if it’s a girl or a boy,” Bristol said. “I just hope it has a small head.”

  Laughing, Roan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notepad. “I don’t blame you there. Did you ask the doctor the questions?”

  Bristol tapped her phone again. “I did, but only because you made me promise. I can’t believe you made me ask some of these.”

  “Well don’t make me wait, what are the answers?”

  Bristol rolled her eyes. “Question One, how likely is it the baby will be born with teeth; Dr. Jacoby said although it’s not unheard of, he’s never had a baby in his twenty-year practice born with teeth.”

  “Good,” Roan nodded, “I wasn’t sure if babies born with teeth could be breastfed or not.”

  “Who said I was breastfeeding?” Bristol asked. “I have a full-time job, I’m not sure I want the pressure of having to take breaks and pump milk.”

  “You have to breastfeed. My mom breastfed all of us, and the book said it’s the best way to strengthen the baby’s immune system.”

  “I don’t care what your mom did or what the book said, this is about what’s right for me and Junior. I’m not sure breastfeeding is the right option.”

  Roan stared at Bristol in silence for a moment, then shrugged, “We can talk more about it later, we don’t have to decide now.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, there is no “we” in this decision. I’m the one having the baby, and it’s my boobs that will be on duty if breastfeeding happens.”

  “But—”

  “No,” Bristol snapped. “Before we get any farther, let me make one thing clear. There will be plenty of things you get a say in, but when it comes to decisions that involve my body directly, you have no say. If I want to breastfeed our child, I will, but if I decide not to, you’ll either support me or piss off. Got it?”

  Roan’s cock throbbed for a moment because Bristol in a temper was a sight to behold. Her cheeks pinkened and a tiny line appeared between her dark eyebrows. He liked pushing her buttons, but this wasn’t just about him or her. This was about the health of their child.

  “Will you at least promise to consider it?” he finally asked.

  Bristol’s anger fizzled, and she nodded, “I’m not saying no, I’m just not saying yes. Okay?”

  “Deal, let’s move on to the next question,” Roan prodded. “The one about being on your feet for eight-hour days.”

  “Dr. Jacoby assured me I should continue doing things I’ve been doing. Being on my feet will actually keep my body stronger than if I were to sit all day. The fatigue I’ve had is absolutely normal, and he said it should go away soon or at least get better.”

  “I still think maybe you should consider working part-time, just until the baby comes. I’m not there to help you, and I don’t want you to overdo it. I can send you some money, so you don’t have to work so much.”

  “Absolutely not. I’m not going to sit on my ass and let you take care of me. You’re the father of my child, not my sugar-daddy,” Bristol protested. “I’m going to follow the doctor’s advice and keep living my life. It’s a baby, not a tumor, this process is completely natural.”

  “Okay,” Roan answered, growing frustrated. He hated not being there. He hated having to abide by all of Bristol’s decisions which were made without his input. If he was there, they could do this as a team, and it would be so much easier.

  “Okay?”

  “Yeah, okay. It’s not like I have a choice. I can’t do much about it from here. When I get back, maybe you’ll allow me into your life, seeing as how I’m the baby’s father.”

  “Roan, it’s not like that. You’re in my life, you’ll be in my life forever, and I want your input, but you can’t take over and make all the decisions. We’re not married, my decisions are mine to make, and I don’t have to consult you on all of them.”

  “Does that mean you’re refusing circumcision?”

  “No,” Bristol laughed at the random change of subject, “in fact, after talking it over with Dr. Jacoby, it doesn’t scare me as much as it did. I think if we have a boy, it would be better for him to look like his father in that sense.”

  “Good, because that’s important to me,” Roan said firmly. “I know some people say it’s not natural, but I feel like it’s better for the kid.” A loud voice drew his attention and he paused for a moment listening to the orders before turning back to Bristol.

  “I’m sorry, baby, I have to go. We just got orders. I’ll call you when I can, and I want to have another video chat soon. I like seeing your beautiful face when I talk to you.”

  Bristol blushed and shook her head. “Be safe out there, Roan.”

  “Always.”

  Roan waited until Bristol had clicked their connection closed, then shut the laptop down. His heart ached with homesickness. He’d never felt like this in all the years he’d been in the Marines. He wanted nothing more than to hand in his uniform and hop a plane back to Bristol’s side. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he shut it down. He was a Marine. She knew what that meant to him. While she and the baby were his number one priority, while he was deployed, he had to set them aside and focus. Lives were at stake, and he couldn’t risk making a mistake because his mind was back home in Oklahoma.

  Chapter Six

  Eighteen weeks gestation

  Working at Veldova’s, a high-end women’s clothing store wasn’t the most lucrative career, but Bristol enjoyed it, and her boss had been especially understanding about her pregnancy. She wouldn’t have a problem taking maternity leave after the birth, and she had health insurance. All in all, she was lucky even if the father of her child was thousands of miles away.

  The bell over the door jingled, and Bristol nearly toppled the shelf she was filling trying to turn around to say hello. To her surprise and embarrassment, the broad-shouldered man in the doorway was Roan’s father, Grant Storm. An imposing figure of a man, he was ridiculously out of place amongst the frilly merchandise surrounding them.

  “Mr. Storm, it’s nice to see you. What brings you in tonight?” She held her breath as he scanned her from head to toe, his eyes lingering for a moment on the small swell of her belly.

  “My sons tell me you’re carrying my grandchild.” Grant Storm was the epitome of an old-school Marine. He carried himself as if he’d come out of the womb wearing the uniform. His dark hair had turned mostly silver, and his face carried the lines of his forty plus years in the military.

  “Um, yes, actually.” Bristol glanced around the store at the other customers who, unfortunately, appeared completely focused on the man in the doorway too. “This really isn’t the best time for me to talk. Can I call you when I get off at six?”

  “Eighteen hundred you say?” Grant considered her offer for a moment, then shook his head. “I want to speak in person, so I will return to collect you and we’ll have dinner.”

  Before Bristol could agree or argue, he turned on his heel and marched back out the door. Butterflies filled her belly, and she rubbed at the tension in her shoulders as her coworker, Millie, approached her.

>   “Who was that?” Millie asked, curiosity making her eyes wide and bright.

  “Roan’s father,” Bristol said simply. “And my baby’s grandfather.”

  “Whoa, he’s a silver fox.”

  “Seriously?” Bristol cringed. “He’s intimidating, that’s what he is. Makes me nervous.”

  “Why?” Millie prodded, picking up a stack of shirts from the box on the floor and helping Bristol prep the shelves.

  “There’s just something about him that weirds me out. Like, no matter what I do, he’s always going to find me lacking somehow,” Bristol explained. “And now that I’m carrying Roan’s baby, I’m sure he sees me as a villain.”

  “What?” Millie giggled. “That’s ridiculous. It’s not like you threw Roan on the ground and took him against his will just to impregnate yourself. I’m sure he’s just concerned because Roan is gone and can’t look in on you himself. Maybe Roan sent him?”

  “No, Roan already sent his brothers. I can’t turn around without one of them texting me, calling me, or popping in unexpectedly to make sure I’m okay.” Bristol placed the last of the merchandise. “I don’t want to go to dinner with him.”

  “Then don’t. He can’t force you to go,” Millie said with a shrug. “Hell, I’ll go in your place. I’d love to spend some time with that gorgeous hunk of man.”

  “Ew. He’s old enough to be your father,” Bristol protested.

  “With age comes experience,” Millie winked, “and that man looks like he’s got a lot of experience under his belt.”

  “The only thing I imagine under his belt is the rod up his ass. I don’t know how Roan and his siblings survived him.” Bristol rubbed her itchy belly. Ever since her pooch appeared, the skin itched like crazy as it stretched.

  “Well, he cared enough to show up here to talk to you,” Millie said, just as a customer approached them asking for a dressing room.

  Collecting the now empty bin off the floor, Bristol wandered into the back, lost in her thoughts. What could he possibly want from her? In all the years she and Roan had been friends, Grant had rarely expressed interest in anything that wasn’t military. Would he be pissed she and Roan had been so careless?

  For the rest of her shift, her brain buzzed with worry. It hadn’t even been this difficult to face Roan about her condition. By the time Grant appeared at the door again, they were closing their registers for the night.

  “I’ll just be another moment, Mr. Storm. We have to lock up and set the alarm,” she called out in greeting as he stood in the same spot he had hours before, his hawk-like gaze scanning the empty shop.

  “No point in arming that alarm, it’s only a fifty-four-thirty-seven model. If someone wanted to break-in, it would be astoundingly easy. By the time police got the notification, the perpetrator would be long gone.”

  Millie arched an eyebrow at Bristol and disappeared into the back office.

  “Um, I’ll have to pass that on to my boss. I’m really not sure who handles the security system—”

  “The only one stupid enough to maintain a fifty-four-thirty-seven is Raddison, so I’m sure KevLock is the company with the job.” Reaching into his suit jacket he pulled out a business card and marched across to her counter. “Give this to your boss. If they’re serious about protecting their investment, they should consider changing.”

  Bristol took the card and nodded, “I forgot you opened your own security firm.” The card was a soft ivory with three large Ds embossed on it. She ran her finger over the raised letters and turned it over to see Devil Dog Defense in sharp black lettering along with a phone number. “I’ll be sure to pass this on to Jenny and Kevin.”

  Grant nodded and stepped back outside, turning his back to the door. Instead of retreating to his truck, he stayed there, guarding the door while Millie and Bristol finished their closing tasks and locked up for the night. When they exited, Millie introduced herself to Grant who barely acknowledged her or her flirty smile.

  “Do you always park beside the building?” he asked, following them around the corner to their cars.

  “Yeah, we have to save the front parking for the customers,” Millie said with a bubbly smile. “Heaven forbid they have to walk fifty feet.”

  “I see neither of you is prepared for an attack on your person,” Grant said, his face drawn in a frown. “I’ll be sure to discuss that with your supervisors.”

  “What kind of attack do you think is going to happen in the middle of Tulsa at six o’clock in the evening?” Bristol snapped, her anxiety making her temper short.

  “It doesn’t matter where you are or what time it is, you should still be prepared for an attack,” he said simply before holding Millie’s car door open. “You don’t even lock your vehicle, and I’m sure neither of you checked the backseat for an intruder. It would be a good idea to invest in a few basic safety skills, young ladies.”

  Millie and Bristol exchanged a look before Millie got into her car. “Thank you, I’ll be sure to lock my car doors and invest in mace, Mr. Storm.”

  “Colonel. It’s Colonel Storm.” Grant shut Millie’s door without waiting for a response and promptly marched back to the sidewalk to collect Bristol. “You can ride with me, and I’ll bring you back to your car after dinner.”

  “Thank you, but I’d prefer to take my car. As you said, it’s not safe to be here alone.” Bristol hurried to open her door before he could do so, then gave him a fake smile, “Where would you like me to meet you?”

  “Parcelle’s offers the most well-rounded menu. I assume your condition makes you crave certain foods. They will likely have something you like,” Grant told her. “Get in your car.”

  “What?”

  Frowning, he gestured to her car, “Get in. I’ll wait until you’ve safely started it and locked your doors, then you can follow me.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes as she did his bidding and got in her car. Adjusting her seat belt, she started her car and gave him a small wave. He immediately headed for his truck without a backward glance.

  While she waited for him to pull around, she shot off a quick email to Roan from her phone, telling him she was going to dinner with his father and to pray for her sanity. She had no idea how Grant felt about the baby, but she knew how she felt about Grant. This was going to be the most awkward dinner she’d ever had.

  The restaurant he’d selected wasn’t much more than a family diner, but Bristol didn’t care. Her only goal was to get this meal over with as quickly as possible. She ordered tomato soup and grilled cheese while Grant went for a pasta dish, and before she knew it, she was alone with him again.

  “So, Roan finally told you about the baby, I guess,” she said tentatively.

  “No, actually, Storm 4 did,” Grant frowned, the lines around his eyes turning into deep grooves. “He canceled a meeting in order to repair your air conditioner, I believe.”

  “Yeah, it was very sweet of Coop to help me with it.” Bristol felt a flush of embarrassment crawl up her cheeks. “I had a call into maintenance, but they can take days to respond.”

  “I see,” Grant nodded. “I assume it’s working correctly now?”

  “Yes, perfectly. I’m sorry Cooper canceled a meeting with you for it though. I didn’t mean for—”

  “Of course, he did. I would never forgive my son if he didn’t. Had I known about your condition earlier, I would have ensured all of your HVAC systems were properly maintained myself.”

  “Um, thank you?” Bristol wasn’t sure if Grant was angry or proud of Cooper’s choice, but she was sure he was the hardest man she’d ever tried to get a read on. “Everything’s working just fine now. No need to worry.”

  “When is the baby due?” he asked simply, changing the subject without any sort of acknowledgment.

  “Around Christmas. My actual due date is December twenty-sixth.”

  “That doesn’t leave much time to plan a wedding with Storm 5 returning the second week of December,” Grant mutter
ed.

  “Wait, what wedding? And how do you know when Roan’s coming back? He said they wouldn’t have dates until it was closer.”

  Grant leaned back in his seat as the waitress returned with their food. They waited in silence for her to finish.

  “I might not be an active member of this country’s military any longer, but my past life connections are still available. As for the wedding, I see no reason why this child should be born out of wedlock. You’re both single, intelligent people with an obvious attachment to each other.”

  “Attachment?” Bristol repeated, staring at her soup in shock. She couldn’t find her appetite. If Grant assumed they would get married, he was sorely mistaken. She and Roan hadn’t even discussed the possibility, and she had no interest in marrying someone because they were single and attached to each other. “Have you discussed this with Roan at all?”

  “No,” Grant responded. “While my connections afford me a lot of information not available to the general public, they can’t get me better internet or phone service in Syria. As he was unavailable, I determined the next best solution would be to reach out to you and determine if the child is truly my grandchild.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, come now, it wouldn’t be the first time a woman has latched onto a Marine with a surprise pregnancy.” Grant acted like the conversation they were having was perfectly normal, but Bristol’s heart had stopped beating in her chest for a moment.

  “This child is Roan’s,” she said simply. “I don’t have to defend my actions or prove paternity to anyone but myself and Roan. The fact that you would even accuse me of—”

  “I have not accused you of anything. I have simply laid out the situation and asked for answers. You say he’s the father, I have no choice but to believe you. If this is legitimately my grandchild, I will ensure your needs are well met while he’s deployed.”