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My Wife's Baby




  My Wife’s Baby

  Niomie Roland

  My Wife’s Baby: BWWM Romance

  Copyright © 2019 Niomie Roland

  All rights reserved.

  My Wife’s Baby: BWWM Romance is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to events, locations, or persons living or dead is coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying form without written permission of the author, Niomie Roland.

  Books may be purchased in quantity and/or special sales by contacting the publisher, Niomie Roland, by email at alanasaunders_2011@hotmail.com.

  Editing: Tanisha Stewart

  www.tanishastewartauthor.com

  First Edition

  Published in the United States of America

  by Niomie Roland

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my close friends who are all working on their happily ever after: Sherrell, Mandy, Sadia and Zenna- Congrats on your recent engagement.

  PS: Your names are in the order of your marriages. I love you all.

  Dear Reader,

  One of the reasons I love dreaming up and writing romance is because I am a firm believer in love and happy endings. I believe that happy endings can happen in real life just like they do in fiction. I’ve seen and I am still experiencing many people working toward their happy endings, whether it’s pursuing their dreams despite adversities or constantly working with respect to keeping their marriages and other relationships strong. I am currently working toward my own happy ending with my loving husband. I am a firm believer that love has remarkable healing powers that allow for us to grow in insurmountable ways. If you would like to hear more about me and my journey as an author, as well as receive exclusive updates about my books, please follow me on Facebook here.

  Best Wishes,

  Niomie

  Table of Contents

  Before Brad Came Home…

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  Two years later…

  Before Brad Came Home…

  His message came in at exactly 7:00am, when Alana was lying on the bed rubbing her finger against the sensitive area where her wisdom tooth used to be. When the phone pinged she picked it up and smiled when his name showed up.

  She was still on his mind.

  The message read: You looked beautiful today at the super market.

  It was puzzling. He was supposed to be in the UK, not anywhere near the supermarket she visited to get groceries from this evening. How did he see her? Her brow was furrowed in puzzlement as she typed a reply.

  I looked… wait, are you in town?

  A fresh message from him popped in almost immediately, just as she was about to place the phone on her nightstand to go and check up on Aaryn. She grimaced as she felt a numb pain in her private area. “Must have moved too quickly or something,” she mused. She got up from the bed and walked out of the room to the nursery. The house seemed empty without her husband. It was a two storied townhouse with three big bedrooms and only two ladies in it presently; two ladies who were desperately missing the only man in their lives.

  Right now, however, her husband Brad was the furthest thing from Alana’s mind. She stood at the door and watched her daughter sleep. Aaryn was lying on her side with her teddy bear clutched in her plump hands.

  Alana padded to her bed and kissed her softly on the cheek. Then she turned and hurried out of the room. When she got back to her room she picked up the stack of laundry that was lying at the foot of her bed and walked to her closet. When she was done situating all of the clothes, she noticed that her appearance came into view of the full length mirror that hung on the closet door. Her thick curly hair laid in a bun on top of her head. A few tendrils of hair fell around her round face. Her caramel skin showcased her smooth, clear complexion. Thank God.

  During her teenage years her face was plagued by acne and pimples. She tried every remedy possible to achieve the lustrous skin she was now admiring. She was medium height and 130lbs the last time she weighed herself. She turned her body slightly to study herself from the back. Yep; curved in all the right places. After studying herself, she walked over to the nightstand and picked up her phone. Her hand shook with excitement as plopped back onto the bed.

  Greg’s message was waiting for her on her phone screen: Yeah baby.

  It brought a smile to her face and she typed a quick reply: Wow!

  It was like he was waiting for her. He continued their quick exchange. From then on, the chat flew smoothly.

  The same thing I said to myself when I saw you.

  She smirked. Oh yeah? Lol.

  Oh yeah. I said even more, but I don’t believe they are things you’ve never heard.

  She paused and readjusted her position on the bed. Lol. Flatterer.

  We have to meet up.

  Her eyebrow raised. Meet up?

  Yeah. Since I saw you today, I have been dying to see you again.

  When did you get back?

  Yesterday. Damn. London is shit.

  How long are you staying?

  Forever. Dan wants me here.

  Dan, Greg’s older brother, was poised to take over their late father’s position as principal partner at Sheffield, Barber and Carlson, one of the biggest law firms in the country. It appeared that he wanted Greg beside him as he was wary of going against the sharks who owned the firm with his father before the old man died.

  Okay, great.

  So, when are you coming over? I’ve got my place all prepped up already in anticipation of your arrival.

  Persistent, are we? She chuckled to herself, then responded. Lol. Greg, I’m not coming to your place.

  Why? All that effort, Jesus.

  Come on, Greg. What would we do at your place?

  Drink, talk, catch up on old times.

  Hmm, she considered it for a few moments, then another text came through.

  Look, I’ll totally lose it if I don’t see you this weekend.

  She sighed. Okay-okay-okay. But not your place.

  He shot back immediately. Why?

  Brad’s face briefly flashed across her mind. Never mind. Where and what time?

  Her phone pinged with another message after she finished with Greg. This one was from her dentist, Dr. Fred Luther. He had extracted her tooth in his clinic, and he wanted to know if she was okay.

  How is the patient doing?

  Almost as soon as she read that text, she felt more discomfort in her private area. I must have pulled something during my workout. She shot back a quick reply, hoping Fred wouldn’t want to have a long, drawn out conversation with her too.

  I’m okay Fred.

  Fred was one of her husband’s frat brothers from their college days.

  You won’t forget your appointment next week, right?

  She rolled her eyes and lifted her finger to reply to Fred, but another message from Greg popped in and she scrolled up to view it.

  It was a kissing emoji.

  It amused her, but she sent one back. Anything to keep his daydream going.

  My Wife’s Baby

  Niomie Roland

  1

  Storm clouds were amassing in the East. They looked angry enough to
flood an entire city, but they were nothing compared to the clouds hanging over Brad Johnson’s head.

  Even though he was driving, his best friend Cliff noticed it. As he maneuvered the car through the heavy traffic on Fifth Street, he stole a glance at his friend from time to time.

  Brad had just won the Associate of the Year award for the third time running. On nights like this, he was always noisy, talking about everything on earth while cradling his champagne. But tonight, his bottle of champagne lay on the back seat, beside his briefcase and his award plaque.

  His lips were sealed, and his handsome face was creased by a frown. That frown had been there since the night began. Not even the presentation of the award and the wide smiles of the managing partner as he handed it to him earlier that night had been enough to drive it away. His mind had been far away from the hotel where the law firm held the award dinner.

  It had been on the woman who had bailed on him at the last minute because of a headache: Alana, his wife.

  “Are you okay?” Cliff asked.

  “Yea, I am,” Brad answered. “Why?”

  “You look like a man whose wife ran away with some other man.”

  That statement made Brad go cold. It was the last thing Cliff should have said.

  “What the fuck do you mean?”

  “What do you mean, what the fuck do I mean?”

  Cliff’s surprise was written all over his face. His bushy eyebrows were raised and his wide mouth was open.

  “Hey, watch the road!”

  Cliff turned in time to see that he was about to veer off the road onto the sidewalk. Hastily he swung the steering wheel left, bringing the car back into their lane. “Jesus Christ!”

  Brad shook his head in wonder. “One of these days you will get us killed!”

  “You distracted me, man.”

  “I dis…,” Brad looked at Cliff in disbelief. “Just shut up and drive. Only God knows how the hell you were able to get a driving license.”

  “Shut up dude.”

  “I will if you do the same.”

  “I won’t have you saying nonsense about my driving.”

  “I’ll stop, when you stop driving like a drunk!”

  Cliff turned to glare at him and he pointed at the road. The mouth that had opened to fire a retort closed and Cliff turned his attention back to the road muttering obscenities under his breath.

  “I want to return home to my wife in one piece,” Brad said.

  “Keep talking and you may return to her in countless pieces.”

  Brad began to laugh and Cliff joined him. But the laughter didn’t last long. He wasn’t eager to return home to Alana. He was in Cliff’s car, going home because he didn’t know where else to go after the award dinner. Going home now meant having to make a decision he didn’t want to make yet. It was one he had never thought he would be faced with.

  Alana’s ex was in town. That alone was not enough to worry him. The man was past tense, and Brad was the only love of her life now. Or, at least he was supposed to be. But the problem was that Alana had been acting strange lately. Worse still, Brad knew that she had seen her ex at least twice since he returned to town. But she hadn’t told him. So he was worried. He was so worried that he wanted to ask her what was going on. But another part of him was telling him that there was nothing going on.

  For a week now, his head had been more mired in confusion than the people who tried to erect the Tower of Babel. It was a surprise that he had even managed to get anything done at the office at all. It was the fact that there were bills to be paid that kept him moving.

  He didn’t know when the car left Fifth Street. He also didn’t know when they got to his street and rolled to a stop before his house. His mind was in the middle of an intense debate session. To confront her, or not. That was the bone of contention between the two sides; those lingering voices of reason which made indecision a living, breathing thing.

  It was Cliff’s voice that snapped him out of his reverie. “Dude!”

  It startled him because it was loud.

  “Where did you go to?” Cliff asked.

  Brad was confused. “Where did I-when?”

  “I called you like a million times.”

  “A million times?”

  “Look, I don’t know what’s bugging you, but you have to deal with it, okay?”

  “Nothing’s bugging me.”

  Cliff placed a hand on his shoulder. It was big, like everything about Cliff. Cliff was six feet five inches of muscle with eyes that could take in the entire planet in one glance, a nose that could inhale enough air to fill a gas tank at one go and a mouth that could take off another man’s head in one bite if cannibalism suddenly appealed to him; the perfect physique for the notorious courtroom brawler.

  “You have been moody since you came back and I don’t like it,” he said.

  “I’m okay,” Brad insisted.

  “Whatever. Just bear one thing in mind.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Whenever you decide to unburden, just know that I am here for you. Daddy’s got you, baby.”

  For a moment Brad stared at him with a poker face, then he nodded almost imperceptibly. “Goodnight Cliff.”

  He grabbed his things from the bag seat and opened his door quickly.

  When he got out of the car, he didn’t stand to wave and watch Cliff drive away like he always did. Instead he turned and made his way up the short drive with quick steps. His gleaming black shoes made a crunch-crunch sound as he walked.

  When he reached the front door he stopped and took a deep breath. To confront her, or not?

  The door swung open suddenly and she emerged; Alana, the love of his life. Brad could not understand why she looked more beautiful than she had ever looked at that moment. The smile on her face warmed his insides. The warmth started out from the pit of his stomach and spread up to his heart, his arms and then his face. His face broke into a smile.

  “Baby…”

  He placed his brief case and the champagne on the floor and spread his arms. Smiling, she walked into them. In that moment, when her bosom pressed into his chest, his mind was wiped clean. All the thoughts that had been tormenting him fled.

  2

  Alana’s skin was that perfect shade of caramel that could effortlessly turn heads. It glowed and was also flawless. It was that skin that had drawn Brad to her in the first place. When he drew closer, her beautiful brown eyes had captivated him.

  Theirs had been love at first sight. It had been a chance meeting in their college days. The clichéd, bumping into each other in the library with her books falling from her hands and him bending to get them for her.

  The only words that had been spoken were two hasty “Sorry’s” proffered by both parties with apologetic smiles on their faces. They had gone on their separate ways, but fate conspired and brought them back together again in a Black Lives Matter rally.

  Being a man who understood the times and seasons, Brad took this second meeting as a sign from the cosmos and chatted her up after the rally. She had initially been surprised to see him – a white man – at the rally, but her shock quickly subsided as they grew more comfortable with each other. She saw how compassionate, kind and thoughtful he was to others, especially her. Besides, there were other white people who attended the rally as well.

  Although it was the first time Brad and Alana had a full conversation, they spent over two hours in the café where they had gone for coffee and books. A date followed a few days later after hours of phone conversations and texting. More dates, phone calls and texts followed that date, until the two ended up at the altar putting rings on each other’s fingers. It was inevitable. Alana would later admit that Brad’s integrity, confidence and greyish-blue eyes made falling in love with him easy.

  Now, as they held each other in a tight embrace Brad marveled at how lucky he was. This woman was someone who understood him, supported him and loved him fiercely, despite his many imperfections. Sometime
s he even doubted if he loved her as much as she did him.

  “I’m sorry,” Alana said.

  Brad held her back to have a look at her face. There was a wan smile there. “For what?” he asked her.

  “I should have been at the party with you,” she said almost in a whisper.

  “It’s okay baby. You had a headache.”

  “But I should have still managed it.”

  “For what? So old Roger could drool all over you and get his wife jealous again?”

  Brad forced out a laugh. Alana didn’t join him. She didn’t find his joke funny. Last year, the managing partner, Roger Sandler had bumped into one of the waitresses while staring at her derriere, much to the ire of his wife.

  “It was boring really.”

  “Someone brought the champagne home again.” Alana clapped her hands in delight and bent to get the briefcase and the champagne off the floor.

  “Yeah baby.” The smile on Brad’s face had a hint of pride in it.

  “The third time,” Alana stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the lips, “Baby you are just the best!”

  “You can say that again.”

  “You are the best.”

  Brad nodded and gave her smoldering kiss.

  “Do you want to hear it again?” She asked almost breathlessly.

  “Just one more time please.”

  “You are the best goddamn lawyer in this town!”

  “Thank you for saying that,” he responded while kissing her lips and placing a trail of kisses that led to her delicate neck.

  Alana led the way as they walked across the living room to the staircase. Brad ran his hand over the sofa closest to him as he walked behind his wife, thinking of all the things they’d do tonight in the privacy of their bedroom. He was getting excited just thinking about it.

  “Is Aaryn in bed?” he asked her.

  “Yeah. I tucked her in earlier; she missed you,” Alana replied.

  “She didn’t miss me too much, did she?”

  “She asked for her daddy every minute.”