Bo & Ember Read online

“What’s that?”

  “My net worth. Open it. It’s yours. I’m not keeping secrets from you.”

  I sighed heavily. Annoyed. “I never said you were keeping secrets from me.”

  His eyes bugged out as his voice rose slightly. “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I just want to be consulted!” I shouted. Not angrily, but we were clearly talking past each other and it was annoying.

  “About what?” he shouted back. “It’s my house, for God’s sake. If I wanted to tear the thing down and rebuild it, I would.”

  I cocked my head to the side, my tone reaching angry. “I thought you said it was our house.”

  I could literally feel my hormones spinning out of control. I was hot and cold at the same time.

  “It is. Unless you’re going to be a stubborn ass.” He cocked his eyebrow and a small grin twitched at the corner of his mouth.

  I began to grin, despite trying to remain serious. “Did you just call me an ass?”

  Bo sighed and paced slowly toward me, extending his hands to take mine. “Come … sit with me for a second.”

  Bo led me by the hand out the back hallway and into the grand living room. I eyed the large fireplace with the stone facade and briefly wished for a cozy winter night and a roaring fire. Bo sat on the oversized leather love seat and I plunked next to him.

  “Okay,” he took another deep breath before continuing, “I need to explain something. And this is hard for me, but I need you to hear me.”

  I nodded, tightening my grip on his hand.

  He smiled and shook his head. “I’m sorry for behaving so indifferently about the money. This is something I’m still adjusting to. All the money.”

  “I thought your family always had money.” From everything Bo had told me, and my own research early on of DROP and Bo himself, I was led to believe he’d always had a charmed life.

  “They did. My family did. When I graduated from college, I was granted my share of the trust fund. I used some of it to help with the groundwork of DROP and was going to take the rest of it to build my own business.”

  I’d never talked to Bo about what his intentions were besides DROP. It was so much a part of him and what he did, that we rarely talked about anything else business wise. And, once the music took over, that’s the only business we ever discussed.

  “What did you want to do?”

  Bo pointed to the floor. “Music. Truly. That’s why I had that studio built a couple years ago. I’d been scoping out warehouse space before my parents died. Then, I was able to remodel the basement. DROP took up a lot of my time, sure, but music was something I wanted to do. I knew I wanted to play or produce…” Bo kept his hopeful grin as he looked to the ceiling.

  “Were your parents supportive of your music interests?” I relaxed my standoffish position of crossed arms and legs and curled myself into Bo’s body.

  “They were. My mom was an easier sell, as I suppose most moms are. But, when my dad saw that it wasn’t just about performing, that I was focused on all aspects of the industry, he gave me a firm pat on the shoulder and told me that he knew I’d make him proud no matter what.” Bo cleared his throat and rested his chin on the top of my head.

  “So—”

  Bo cut me off before I could finish my sentence. “My point is, Em, that the reason I have all of this money is because my whole family is gone. That’s the only reason I have as much as I do. I want us to be able to have a fresh start. Investing in a property is rarely a bad move—why not just take the money and do it?”

  I lifted my chin and looked him in the eyes. He had a peaceful look on his face that was no doubt a struggle for him to maintain, given the gravity of this discussion. “I get it. I’m sorry. I just want us to be really careful and make sure we’re making decisions as a team, you know?”

  Bo tightened his arms around me. “I know and I’m sorry. I thought I was just doing something nice without realizing how you might feel about it.”

  “A bracelet is nice, Bo. An entire house renovation? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?” I chuckled when he did.

  “You’re right. So, we’ll talk about the numbers I discussed with Tyler, and then we’ll make a plan for how we’re going to handle everything from now on. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  I leaned back and stretched my arms overhead, ready to head back to the kitchen. When I stood, Bo stopped me.

  “Hey, Ember?”

  “Yeah?” I turned back around and watched him stand with a foolish grin on his face.

  “What you said earlier about kids and college, and all of that … is that what you really want?” He rested his hands on my hips, and suddenly I wanted him naked on the couch.

  I restrained myself. Smiling, I answered, “It is. I want things with you I never even considered before. A music career, kids … what have you done to me?” I lifted on my toes and kissed his taut jawline.

  “Made an honest woman out of you,” he teased, bringing back his sitcom actor voice.

  I smacked his chest and returned to the kitchen. Bo followed, opening up the fridge and grabbing a beer.

  The walls were closing in on Baby O’clock, and I was chickening out. The man was my husband, for God’s sake. I don’t know exactly what I was afraid of. Still, another subject change seemed in order.

  “Oh, by the way,” I started slyly. “I have something I’ve been wanting to ask you for months.”

  “Great,” Bo deadpanned as he opened his beer.

  “The night we met Yardley, you made a comment to Willow, when you asked about how she handled her money. You said something about wondering if she was serious or playing with her parents' money, and joked that you knew a little about both.” I turned, raising my eyebrows in question, but Bo didn’t bite.

  “And?” he teased.

  I took the dishtowel and smacked his arm. “Come on. What’d you mean you knew about both? You seem so focused about money. Did you ever fool around with it?”

  Bo rubbed his arm. “You’re awfully abusive tonight, you know.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  Bo took a swig of his beer and got a mischievous look in his eyes. “I was twenty-two. What do you want from me?”

  “What’d you do?” I was dying to hear about the irresponsible side of my straight-laced husband.

  “Oh, you know,” he held out his hands and looked to the sky, “bought stuff. Like … a car, and a jet ski … and a snowmobile. And a cottage up on the lake.”

  My jaw had never dropped so low in my life as it did in that moment. “Bo! Are you serious?”

  “Hey,” he said, mock-defensively, “I sold that cottage three years later and almost doubled my investment.”

  I twisted my eyebrows in horror. “You did that all in one year?”

  Bo nearly choked on his beer. “Like six months, but, yeah, close enough.”

  I shook my head disapprovingly as I walked through the dining room and climbed the stairs to the bedroom. Bo followed. “Your parents must have shit.”

  “Yep. They did. Oh, my dad was so pissed. I was called into his office and given a total ass-reaming. How he’d taught me better than that … you know … parent stuff.” Once in the bedroom, Bo set the beer bottle down on the dresser as he undressed, taking his time to watch me undress, too.

  I tossed my clothes in the hamper and slid into a black slinky number that always drove him crazy. “What’d your mom say?”

  Bo shrugged and tenderness overcame his face. “She just rolled her eyes and told me to get my act together.”

  We crawled into bed and situated ourselves as we did every night. Bo held out his arm so I could lay my head on his chest, and he closed his warm arm around me, pulling me in even closer.

  “Well, I’m glad you got all of that out of your system.” I yawned and kissed his bare chest.

  Bo’s fingers skimmed the skin around my shoulders, driving me crazy. “I just want to give you a heads up. I’m calling Dr. Bittman in the mo
rning.” He reached for the side table light and clicked it off.

  My heart skipped a beat as I sat straight up. “Turn it back on.”

  “What?” He sounded panicked as light filled the room again.

  “Is everything okay?” I’d never met Dr. Bittman before, but I’d heard plenty about her after Rae died. David Bryson had told me Bo was in her care again, just as he’d been after his parents died. I knew he’d seen someone when we first got to California, but I’d always associated Dr. Bittman with tragedy.

  Bo sat up and took my hand, kissing my knuckles and giving me a reassuring smile. “Everything’s fine, love. And, I want to keep it that way. The past two weeks have been harder on me emotionally than I thought they would be. Hell, I didn’t give much thought to it.” He twisted his lips and leaned his head back almost as if he were disappointed in himself.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I knew something was off with you, but I didn’t want to get into a huge pow-wow about it because I knew we had a lot going on. Moving, renovating, recording…”

  I couldn’t tell him. Not yet. I’d planned to, but the weight of what he was already dealing with emotionally was too heavy. My body wouldn’t let me hold it in anymore, though. My chin began to quiver, and I tried to hide it by shifting my position. That worked for about five seconds before my nose began to tingle. Then, the eyes. They filled so high with water that Bo became a blurry blob of color within seconds.

  “Ember?” Bo shifted, sitting up and placing his hands on my shoulders.

  I shook my head while I tried to force a smile. The tears that spilled down my cheeks and over the corners of my mouth ruined my planned facade, though. “It’s fine,” I managed through whisper.

  “You’re freaking me out, Em. What is it?”

  I could barely hear my own voice as blood rushed through my ears, leaving me feeling dizzy.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Bo

  I’m pregnant.

  That’s what she said. Right?

  Before she could take a breath, she collapsed into a sobbing mess against my shoulder.

  “What? Ember. What? Wait. What?” I knew she likely couldn’t hear me over the volume of her cry, but I had to try to get some straight answers.

  “I just … I’m so sorry. The timing is—“ she cut off again in a loud wail.

  I shifted and pushed gently on her shoulders, forcing her to sit up.

  “Ember,” a smile cracked through the corners of my mouth, “did you say you’re pregnant?”

  Her eyes met mine and they were filled with thick tears. Her cheeks were red, and I put together signs I should have paid attention to all along. I knew I’d been difficult over the past few weeks, but she truly did seem overly sensitive—even for her. I chalked it up to the stress of the move, and everything else she’d told me was bothering her.

  Apart from that was her restless sleep. Ember usually slept sounder than any person I’d met, but over the last two weeks, she tossed and turned most nights. But, most importantly, there was a true glow coming from her over the past few days. Despite the winter settling around us, her cheeks were permanently rosy and her skin was extra flawless.

  Her apparent sadness in front of me was baffling.

  “Em?” I brought my hand to her face and ran my thumb across her lips.

  She sniffed. “I’m pregnant, Bo.”

  A chuckle drenched in chest-bursting emotion poured from my mouth as I began to cry. There was no work up to this cry. It was open and flowing before I could consider holding it back. But I didn’t want to.

  Suddenly, all the stresses and problems and emotional baggage of the last several weeks shot into space. My gorgeous, talented, smart, breathtakingly amazing wife was pregnant. With our child. A baby. Our baby.

  I was speechless, smiling as my wife dried her tears and stared at me.

  “You’re not … mad?” Her voice was small as she looked down.

  Lifting her chin with my index finger, I said the truest words I’ve spoken since I do.

  “Ember, you just made me the happiest man on planet Earth.”

  “But the timing—“

  “Fuck the timing,” I cut her off. “You should have felt what was going on inside me when Josh and Monica were here. I was so happy for them, and I realized that in the pit of my stomach was jealousy.”

  She allowed a small smile. “Really?”

  I laughed through still-falling tears. “Really. Ember, this is amazing. A baby.”

  “The label…”

  I shook my head and placed both hands on the side of her face. “Say something real. You’re talking about the things you think you should be worried about. Tell me how you’re feeling about this.”

  A sob leaped from her throat as she smiled. “I’m so happy, Bo. I love this baby so much already I don’t even know what to do with myself. I’m sorry I kept this from you.”

  I pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to. Things have been stressful and I haven’t been leaning on you like I promised I would. Jesus, Ember, I love you so much right now I don’t even know what to do with myself.”

  Ember yawned. “Lay down with me?”

  I leaned back and kept her close to my chest. Ember reached her arm behind her and grabbed my hand. Interlacing her fingers with mine, she brought our hands to the spot on her stomach just below her bellybutton.

  There were no words. Just tears. Happy, beautiful, exhausting tears that ushered us into a deep sleep.

  “Nervous?” the pleasant-looking nurse asked as she took Ember’s blood pressure.

  Ember nodded. “Yes. This is all happening kind of fast.”

  Ember called the doctor the morning after telling me she was pregnant. They scheduled an appointment four-weeks out, but called back in the afternoon to tell us there had been a cancellation. Neither one of us slept the night before coming in.

  The nurse smiled as she made some notes on the computer chart. “Well, don’t worry. We’ll take good care of you. Okay, get comfortable. Since you’ve missed two periods, you’re probably at least eight weeks along. The doctor will try to pick up a picture with the external wand, but if it’s having trouble, he’ll do the internal. For that we’d have you change into a gown, but don’t worry about it for now.”

  Ember had warned me about the internal ultrasound. She Googled about first doctor's appointments in pregnancy. She was less than thrilled at the prospect, but her face relaxed as the nurse told her that might not be an issue after all.

  In the few minutes we had alone before the doctor came in, Ember laid back and turned to face me.

  “It’s all going to get real in a few minutes.” She exhaled and I could tell she was still quite nervous based on her shaky breath.

  I took her hand, covering my own nerves with a deep breath. To be honest, I was more excited than nervous.

  “When do you want to tell your parents?” I asked after kissing her hand.

  Ember threw her hand on her forehead. “Oh God, I don’t know. When should we tell Yardley? We have to tell her. This will affect the tour and shit, won’t it? I don’t even know.”

  “How about we just wait until this appointment is over before we start making all kinds of plans? One step at a time sound good?”

  Ember smiled as she exhaled. “It sounds perfect.”

  Both of us had been so crazy busy over the last year, the thought of taking something one step at a time really felt like a security blanket.

  There was a knock at the door, and a tall, young-looking male doctor entered the room. I shifted in my seat a little. I’d never really considered the gender of doctors much before that moment, and suddenly I was very aware of his.

  At least it’s not Beckett … or Adrian.

  “Good morning, I’m Dr. Orson.” He smiled gently and sat on a chair next to Ember, taking a few minutes to get a general medical history, and, it seemed, to get to know us a bit.

  I liked him after al
l.

  “Let’s get started then, shall we? Lift up your shirt a bit, please.”

  Ember did as instructed, and had to shift her skirt down a bit, too. The doctor squeezed some Vaseline-looking stuff on her stomach, and placed the wand down right over it.

  “It’s cold,” Ember whispered as she fought a giggle.

  The doctor smiled and turned his attention to the screen in front of him.

  “Okay,” he said after a few seconds. “Take a look at the screen in front of you.” He flipped a switch and a flat-screen TV mirrored the image on the small screen attached to the ultrasound machine.

  Ember gasped and moved her arm behind her head to lift it up bit.

  “What?” I asked, feeling completely clueless.

  “Look. On the right is the head and, then, the rest of the body.” She pointed to the screen like she’d never been more sure of anything.

  “That’s right,” Dr. Orson agreed. He moved a mouse-looking thing around and drew some lines over the picture. “Here is the head, and this is the rest of the body, just like she said. You’re measuring about nine weeks. Do you see that little flutter in the center?”

  I leaned forward and squinted my eyes. “I see it.”

  “That’s the heartbeat.”

  Ember’s hand left mine and moved to her mouth as she teared up.

  “Want to hear it?” the doctor asked.

  “Yes!” Ember and I answered at the same time.

  Dr. Orson flipped a switch, and suddenly the room was filled with the rapid rhythmic thumping of a tiny heart.

  I’ve been into music for as long as I can remember. I’ve heard and played almost every kind there is. Suddenly, everything suffered in quality when compared to the sound of the strong heartbeat of our baby.

  Ember and I were in a trance for what felt like forever. Soon, the doctor clicked off the screen, turned off the sound, and printed a few pictures for us to take home. We were ushered to the receptionist, where we made an appointment for four weeks out, and received a prescription for prenatal vitamins.

  On the drive home, Ember and I had foolish grins on our faces.

  “Can we wait to tell people from Grounded Sound?” she asked, sounding hesitant. “I just want to get the album produced first. I know we have a contract, but I’m due in June and that’s when the tour starts. It kind of changes things.”