With Brave Wings Page 4

  "Oh—" Shit. Sophie would probably never get used to the baby kicking. It filled her with butterflies and made her emotional ninety percent of the time. "I think he's hungry." It was late, after all. The baby didn’t find it acceptable that lunch would be served at three. But they'd done so much with the kiddo's room today, so they were running late.

  "Is he kicking now?" Maliah ran over and excitedly put a hand on Sophie's bump.

  "Here." Sophie pressed Maliah's hand a little firmer right below her belly button. The butterflies returned. "You feel that?"

  It had only been a few days since others could feel the baby's movements. Before then, it was just Sophie, and the guys liked to tease her and say it was gas. Jerks.

  "Yeah. Freaking cool." Maliah beamed. "Does he know it's Christmas tomorrow?"

  "Too soon for that, baby," Brooklyn chuckled. "Can you go across the hall and get Josh? Time to eat."

  Oh right, Sophie had almost forgotten Noah's roommate was joining them. Josh was always working, so she rarely saw him. It seemed to be a running theme for the men in the loft across the hall. Josh was a physiotherapist, married to his business, Moshe and Eli traveled the world as photographers for National Geographic, and Noah went all over the place, too.

  In the months Sophie had lived in this building, she'd only seen the Israeli brothers twice. Their initial meeting had been a brief hello before they were off to Indonesia with their camera equipment.

  "You should put your feet up, honey," Brooklyn said. "You're tired. Or go stare at the Christmas tree with Max."

  Sophie chuckled and looked over to the living room. Sure enough, Max was still guarding the tree, which he'd been doing since they'd decorated it a couple weeks ago.

  "Okay, five minutes." She conceded and plopped down on the couch. She groaned in pleasure as her feet hit the coffee table. Lately, they'd been a little swollen and sore.

  Otherwise, she had no real complaints about her pregnancy. She'd heard horror stories from Brooklyn, so Sophie was pretty sure she'd gotten lucky with her sprite.

  She smiled sleepily to herself, feeling him shifting inside her belly.

  In the past month, she'd gotten…attached. More than words could describe, really. The whole situation was so bizarre, but a sense of serenity had also covered her like a blanket. It was difficult to explain.

  "Sophie!" Daniel called from down the hall.

  Nuh-uh.

  "She's not home!" she hollered back.

  "Phone for you!"

  "I'm really not home!"

  She'd made one mistake. One tiny fucking mistake, and suddenly the world knew she was pregnant. For that reason, she only left her loft when she had to, and all her calls went through Daniel.

  She felt bad for rescheduling interviews and moving them closer to home, but she had to put her son first.

  "It went to voice mail," Daniel said, joining her in the living room with the phone in hand. "It's Asher, darling. As your humble manager, I strongly advise you to call him back."

  Ugh. Did she have to? Today? It was Christmas Eve.

  "How can I explain myself without telling him I'm pregnant?" she asked, frustrated. "I know you've told me I should just be up-front, but I'm not budging, Daniel. Tennyson deserves to learn about the baby through me, not his brother."

  Tennyson also deserved a swift kick in the crotch, but whatever.

  Sophie knew him well enough not to doubt him. He would never dodge her intentionally, and when he said he was going off the grid, he evidently meant it literally.

  Some days, Sophie took each call that went to his voice mail with grace.

  Some days, she cried and threw something at a wall.

  "I am calm today, Daniel," she said clearly. "Don’t make me uncalm."

  He quirked a smile. "I don’t think that’s a word."

  "Jesus, Daniel." Brooklyn shook her head. "Stop while you're ahead."

  "What she said." Sophie pointed to her girlfriend. "Now, get Noah so we can eat. I'm starving. Oh, and help me up, please."

  "Yes, ma'am." Daniel held out a hand for her and pulled her off the couch. "I'll go check Zane's flight."

  "Yeah…you do that." Sophie was already zeroing in on the dining room table. As she sat down, Maliah came back with Josh, Noah emerged from the baby's room, and Brooklyn brought over the last of the food.

  Sophie was on her second roll when Daniel sat down and said he was picking up Zane at the airport in an hour.

  "Mind if I catch a ride?" Josh asked. "I was gonna call a cab."

  "I'll take you." Daniel nodded.

  "Where're you going?" Sophie wondered, cramming some delicious potato skins into her mouth. Buttery heaven.

  "Home to visit my family." Josh smiled at her. "And you have butter on your chin."

  Oh. Sophie wiped a napkin over her mouth and chin, but she was too hungry and tired to be embarrassed.

  She didn’t know what was best, the food or the amazing nap she'd have afterward. It was only in the past few days it had gotten a little difficult to get comfortable, but once she was asleep, she was completely gone. She'd never slept heavier than while she was pregnant.

  Unfortunately, she got tired fast. It hit her like a wall, and there was no fighting it.

  "Sleepy?" Brooklyn smiled knowingly.

  "Yeah," she said sheepishly. "Is there anything I can do before—"

  "Girl, don’t even think about it." Brooklyn pointed toward the bedrooms. "Get some rest."

  *

  Sophie woke up in her bed hours later with a small smile playing on her lips. It was dark outside, and she could smell the delicious turkey.

  Christmas music played softly in the living room. Maliah was laughing at something. Maybe she was playing with Max; it sounded like it—but…hmm. There was a low murmur of a voice she couldn’t place. Zane? No, his voice wasn’t as gruff. For some reason, it sounded like Asher.

  Stretching and yawning, Sophie rolled over onto her back and blinked drowsily.

  "Sophie?"

  "Holy fuck!" She shot up in a seated position and saw someone sitting in the armchair in the corner next to her closet. Tennyson. "Tennyson?" She placed a hand over her pounding heart.

  "I'm sorry." He switched on the small lamp next to the chair. "My only thought was to barge in here and speak to you, but…you looked so peaceful." In contrast, Tennyson looked weary and guarded. "I've only been here for twenty minutes or so."

  Sophie tried to let the shock settle, but it wasn’t easy. "That’s good news—that you've only been a creep for twenty minutes." It was a joke, mostly.

  "Or so," he added.

  "Or so." She nodded and looked down. Shit, he was really here. "I've been trying to get in touch with you for like a month."

  "Fuck," he whispered. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. "I'm so sorry. I was going to check in once we got to New Mexico, but I forgot my damn phone. It's still at home." He scrubbed his hands tiredly over his face. "We were on our way out to dinner yesterday—Asher saw the photos of you."

  "Oh," she mouthed. He already knew. "I hope you're not mad." She pulled up the duvet a bit more, feeling protective.

  Tennyson frowned. "Why on earth would I be mad? I'm…I'm surprised, which…" He chuckled quietly, though it was sorta hollow. "That’s an understatement, but I'm definitely not mad." He gave her a hesitant smile. "Is…is it mine?"

  "That’s funny." She snorted, but then she realized he was serious. That angered her. "Oh my God, you're not kidding. Of course you're the father, you stupid shit!"

  "Oh, thank fuck." Tennyson blew out a breath and hung his head. "Jesus Christ, you have no idea how relieved I am right now."

  Sophie had no idea how to react to that, either. Well… "I think I'm mad." In fact, she was furious. "You think I'd move on that fast? For fuck's sake, haven't we already covered this?"

  "You don’t look very far along in the photos," he reasoned. "I admit my own insecurities got the best of me. My initial thought wa
s that you'd fallen in love and started a family. I was beyond shocked. Then Ash knocked some sense into me and told me I should consider it could be mine."

  Sophie crawled over to the foot of the bed and kneeled, letting the duvet fall away. Wearing nothing but a threadbare top and boxers, her belly was right there for him to see, and it had grown since those pictures were taken.

  "Less than four months to go," she said.

  Tennyson didn’t answer. Instead, he stared. As if he was transfixed, his gaze was glued to Sophie's baby bump, and it was so intense that she couldn’t help but shiver.

  "I…" Tennyson exhaled and stood up. With a shake of his head, he closed the distance between them and gently placed his palms over her belly. "I'm speechless," he whispered.

  Sophie swallowed hard and, in a way, it felt like she was getting ready to let go of some of the tension she'd been shouldering.

  "We're going to be parents, sweetie," Tennyson murmured thickly.

  That was it. The levees broke, and for the first time in months, she didn’t feel alone. Her heart was full of appreciation and love for the wonderful family she'd found in her new friends, but this was different. This was for Tennyson, too. It was their baby, and he was finally here.

  Tears welled up in her eyes, and it wasn’t long before they were streaming down her face.

  "Come here." He picked her up. "I'm so incredibly sorry I haven't been here for you until now."

  "I needed you," she cried.

  Tennyson carried her over to her side of the bed and lay down with her, holding her tightly and yanking the duvet over them. "I know. I know, Sophie." He kissed her hair over and over. "I'm sorry. I hope you know I'd never ignore you intentionally, though."

  She hiccupped and nodded, burying her face in the soft fabric of the Henley that covered his chest. God, he was just so warm and full of comfort and…and…abs?

  He'd been in shape in Vancouver, but this was new. He hadn't been this solid before.

  Even so, he was the perfect pillow right now. She could relax. She didn’t have to be strong all the friggin' time.

  "I'm glad you're here now," she mumbled, sniffling.

  "You won't get rid of me. Tell me what you need from me—anything you want."

  Sophie couldn’t help but grin slightly. Trust the man to wanna hammer out details before even finding out the sex of the baby. "I want this, Tennyson." She gave him a squeeze. "Your support, friendship, and comfort. I don’t want us to tiptoe around each other or get awkward just because we're not together."

  It seemed some tension loosened from his body. "Sounds perfect to me. I…" He sighed quietly. "It's not easy getting over you. I think about you more than I care to admit, but I've been neglecting so many things that used to matter a lot to me. I need to find my way back to that."

  No one understood better than Sophie. The only difference was that she needed to find her way in her new life, not get back to anything in the past. She was finding her way, so she got it.

  "I feel the same." She lifted her head and rested it on his bicep. "You're like my biggest crush, but my head is swimming. And now with the baby…"

  Tennyson smiled softly and kissed her nose. "I do enjoy being your crush. But before we continue, may I kiss you? There's very little else I can say that will express how I feel at the moment—"

  Sophie pressed her lips to his before he could finish. She wanted it just as much as he did, and he was right. How else were they supposed to express themselves? The word love was terrifying, and it could be misunderstood.

  She kissed him fiercely. She kissed him passionately, receiving the exact same passion in return.

  Her body came alive.

  "Oh, fuck…" She arched into him and whimpered when she felt his cock.

  Stupid horny hormones.

  "I want to know everything." Tennyson spoke between drugging kisses. "Christ, it's overwhelming." He rolled them over so he was on top, though there wasn’t much pressure. "When did you find out about the pregnancy?"

  Concentrating on anything other than his body, roaming hands, and deep kisses was nearly impossible. But Sophie managed to give him the rundown of how everything had played out and when. She even mentioned how Noah had joked about her being pregnant, and she saved the best for last, although it still would've been the best if it had been a girl.

  "We're having a boy," she murmured into a kiss. "He's due on April sixteenth."

  Tennyson grew still, and when Sophie opened her eyes, she found him chuckling silently. His gaze was full of both tenderness and amusement.

  "That’s my birthday," he admitted. "I can't imagine a better present—if he decides to come out then."

  Sophie smiled up at him and brushed some hair away from his forehead. "You're taking this extremely well. I was a mess for days. I mean…" She barely knew how to phrase herself; it was so jumbled in her head. "I love him, but I'm scared of him. I don’t know what I'm doing."

  "That makes two of us." Tennyson kissed her once more and then settled next to her again. "Having children was a fleeting thought when I turned thirty. My friends were getting married around that time, but…work has always had my attention more than settling down." He grinned faintly and kissed her forehead. "It's very backward, but I'm sold."

  "Me, too." She sighed contentedly and closed her eyes. "We need a name."

  Tennyson hummed. "We need a last name, too."

  In a humorous way, Sophie could almost hear wheels coming to a screeching halt in her head. As if this had the potential of being a major issue. "Can't we hyphenate?"

  "Of course we can," he chuckled. "I was more getting ready to plead my case on why we should—in the event you wanted him to be a Pierce."

  Sophie mulled that over, guessing she didn’t feel as possessive about the name thing as Tennyson did. Was it a man trait? In four months, she'd be giving birth to this boy; if he was born a Wright, it wouldn’t make him her son any less.

  "Okay, now I'm curious." She pushed herself up on her elbow and looked Tennyson in the eye. "I honestly don’t care, but why is the last name important to you?"

  Chapter 6

  Tennyson could blame male pride, but that was only a small part of it. In less than twenty-four hours, he'd gone from being a bachelor director to a man looking forward to welcoming his son into the world.

  It was almost unfathomable, but considering their unconventional arrangement, he was already thinking about the future. He wouldn’t always be there, so perhaps it was fear motivating him, and the name calmed him.

  No matter where in the world they were, he wanted their name to link them as father and son before memories could.

  Sophie seemed to understand when he explained it to her, but she got quiet, worrying him slightly.

  "I haven't fucked up already, have I?"

  "What?" She looked confused before she chuckled. "Of course not. I was just thinking Pierce is a boy's name too, and he could always have that as a middle name."

  "I'm not sure I follow."

  "First name, working on it. Middle name, Pierce. Last name, Wright."

  "Oh no, sweetie, you don’t have to go that far—"

  Sophie shushed him and pinched his lips together, which stunned him just a bit. Had she really just shushed him?

  "I want it this way, Tennyson," she told him. "Because I understand you. For the first couple of years, he will always be with me, and you're not the only one who will be forced to work far away from home. There will be times I'm the one who's creating the distance—whenever I'm away filming—and I have a few hectic years ahead of me. We'll fly out to see each other, of course, but if the name really matters to you, we'll go with Wright. In fact, I'm deciding it right now."

  Tennyson was fucking humbled, but he had to point something out to her first. "By hyphenating, my name is still there."

  "Right, but Pierce-Wright or Wright-Pierce will always sound like something that belongs in a piercing studio." Lord, she was serious, too. "Do you want yo
ur piercing in your right nipple?"

  Tennyson shook his head in amusement. He didn’t want to laugh because maybe it would offend her, but Jesus Christ, she was the funniest, most adorable girl he'd ever met.

  *

  It was past midnight when Tennyson left Sophie's bedroom. They'd talked for a long time before she'd announced their son was hungry, so she ducked into the bathroom for a quick shower while he was ordered to heat up leftovers.

  "There's the daddy!" Asher grinned, seated on the couch with Noah and Brooklyn. "Has the shock settled yet?"

  Barely.

  Asher turned to Noah and Brooklyn. "You should've seen him on the flight earlier. He was an anxious mess."

  Tennyson grinned tiredly and continued into the adjacent kitchen. "Fuck off, Ash."

  He hadn't given any thought to Sophie's living arrangements, and with most actors and actresses—who could afford it—living in mansions, the New York-style loft she'd bought was certainly different. Brick walls, big windows, high ceilings, and the whole shebang.

  He had to admit he liked it, despite that it was in LA. Sophie had turned it into a real home, and he had a feeling he would enjoy spending time here whenever he could.

  "We ate already, but there's plenty left in the fridge," Brooklyn told him. "I assume Sophie's hungry."

  "No, no, she says it's our boy. Not her." Tennyson had already learned there was a big difference. "Thanks, though. Does anybody else want anything?"

  He found several containers and bowls of food in the fridge and was quick to fill two plates. He hadn't eaten all day, and now the sight of all the Christmas food was making his stomach growl.

  Everyone declined, and when he had heated the food and brought it over to the couch, he saw why. The coffee table was packed with homemade candy and cookies for the holiday, and both Noah and Ash had two plates littered with candy wrappers.

  "Where're Daniel and Zane?" he asked, sitting down.

  "They went home an hour ago," Noah replied. "So how does it feel?"

  "Ask me another time," Tennyson chuckled. Or perhaps that wasn’t quite correct. He knew what he was feeling—somewhat. "I'm completely overwhelmed, and I have a lot to catch up on, but…it's good. I'm happy."