Unexpected Lovers Box Set by J.B. Heller

I can’t believeEm’s moving day is here.

I’m not ready.

“Chin up, Len. I’ll only be two floors down. You can come by whenever you want,” she says. Wrapping an arm around my waist, she leans her head against my shoulder, and we watch Sebastian, his brother-in-law, Jake, and Bates load up with boxes.

Gritting my teeth, I swallow the knot of emotion sitting in my throat. Everything is changing. It was a big enough adjustment when Kins moved in with Atticus and his kid. Now this . . .

I’m happy for my girls. I really and truly am. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little, teeny, tiny bit jealous of their happiness. They’ve locked down a couple of amazing—even by my standards—dudes. And I’ve never seen them happier.

“Come on, Len. You know you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Em chuckles.

“Yeah. I just don’t like change. You know that. But I’ll be fine. I’m always fine,” I assure her.

She arches a brow and rubs her rounded belly. “Dude, we all know what fine means.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, averting my gaze. I know she’s about to quote one of our favorite movies, but I keep my mouth shut.

“Freaked Out, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional,” she recites.

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. But seriously, I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh.” She gives me a knowing look.

“It is what it is,” I say, shrugging. A change of subject is required. “We should probably go direct the guys, or you’re going to end up with bedroom boxes in your bathroom.” I loop our arms together at the elbow then tug her out of the apartment.

A few hours later, after helping unpack many, many boxes and getting disgustingly sweaty, I duck back up to my place and grab a quick shower. We’re going to have a girls’ night in Em’s new crib.

I throw on a pair of jeans, a tank, and my favorite boots then head back down to Em’s. “Yo,” I call as I enter the apartment.

“In the kitchen,” Em yells.

She’s unpacking a box of wine glasses, and Storm, Sebastian’s twin, is perched on a barstool at the counter. Her baby belly is so enormous that her shirt keeps creeping up it.

“Hey, sexy mamas,” I greet them both then step beside Storm and wrap an arm around her, giving her a side-hug. “How’s it going, fatty?”

“Fat,” she mutters. “I’m so over it. I hate this part of pregnancy. Everything hurts, and I just want it to be over,” she groans, dropping her head on my shoulder.

My gaze lifts to Em, an evil grin curving my mouth. “See what you have to look forward to, Emmy? Aren’t you just sooo excited?”

She flips me off then reaches into the box for another glass.

Over the last few months, Storm has become the fourth member of our trio. I guess that makes us a quartet now?

“Kins should be over soon. I reckon she’s got some big news,” I tell them then steal a grape from the bag in front of Storm.

“Cool, cool, cool,” Em mumbles, getting on her tiptoes to slide another wine glass on the shelf. “Any idea what it is?”

“Nope.”

I frown as Em backs away from the box and rubs her lower back.

“You should sit down,” Storm says. “Let Bash do the rest. There’s only, like, three more boxes to do in here anyway.”

I open my mouth to second that, but something wet splashes against my leg. I glance down to see what it is, and a horrified shriek bubbles up my throat as I jump to my feet. “That better be pee! I am not equipped to deal with childbirth,” I yelp.

Em rounds the counter, and her hands flutter around Storm’s belly as she asks her a bunch of questions.

Storm’s smiling, like huge. Fuck that, I wouldn’t be smiling if I were her.

“I’m going to hold my baby today,” she says just as Kins enters the room.

“You’re going to what?” Kins blurts.

“She just leaked amniotic fluid all over my favorite boots,” I whine, but they all ignore me. Em’s on the phone, Storm is still smiling like a mad thing, and Kins’ hands hover over her own stomach . . . My eyes narrow on her. I’m pretty sure I just figured out her big news.

Before I can say anything about it, Sebastian and Jake burst into the apartment, each man going to his respective woman. Em’s freaking out, and Storm is clearly having some sort of mental breakdown over the impending exit of her third child, because that smile on her face is way too big for what’s about to go down.

Kins clears her throat, and I turn to face her as she says, “I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you Atticus and I are getting married?”

My eyes drop to her left hand as she extends it toward Em. Holy shit. That rock is huge.

“Since when?” Em asks.

“Since yesterday,” Kins says, a soft smile curving her lips.

“Jesus H. Christ, everyone is getting married and having babies,” I grumble, snatching Kins’ hand away from Em so I can examine the ring more closely. “But damn, if someone gave me a rock like that, I might just consider jumping on the relationship train.”

Kins and Em gape at me, and I chuckle. “Kidding,” I say, rolling my eyes at them. “Relationships blow.”

A deep, pain-filled groan fills the room, and we all turn to look at Storm, whose arms are around Jake’s neck, her forehead resting on his shoulder as she practically hangs off him. His hands rub her lower back in circles as he murmurs, “Breath, baby. You got this.”

My heart squeezes in my chest at witnessing such an intensely intimate moment. I should probably turn away and give them their privacy. But it’s just so . . . I can’t find adequate words to describe it.

Kins steps into my side, her fingers tangling with mine as we both stand on the outside looking in.

It feels like forever before Storm lifts her head, stares into Jake’s eyes, and says, “Let’s go have a baby.”

He kisses her temple, slides an arm around her waist, and leads her out of the apartment, Em and Sebastian on their heels.

“Can you lock up?” Em asks on her way past us.

I nod. “Of course.”

The front door closes, and silence fills the apartment as Kins and I stand frozen in place.

“Wow,” Kins says.

“Yeah, wow,” I echo.

Her hand squeezes mine, and I turn my head to face her. She swallows and says, “So, umm, I’m pregnant . . .”

“I knew it!”

Kins’ eyes widen in shock. “What? How?”

“The way your hand hovered over your belly when you walked in here and saw Storm in labor,” I tell her. “I knew you had news for us, so when you did that, I figured that must’ve been it.”

“Do you think I’m crazy?” she asks, worry lines marring her forehead.

I tug her toward the couch, and we sit facing each other. “No, why would I ever think that?”

She shrugs. “Because Atticus and I have only been together for a year. It’s all happening really fast.”

I snort. “Dude, Em and Sebastian have only been together for, what, seven maybe eight months? And she’s six months pregnant and moved in with the guy. I don’t think there’s a correct timeline for these things. They’re as perfect for each other as you and Atticus are. When you know, you know.”

Kins rests her cheek on the back of the couch and stares at me.

My brows furrow. “What?”

“When did you get so wise?” she asks. “And why aren’t you applying this wisdom to your own situation?”

Sometimes I wish my friends didn’t know me so well. Swallowing, I avert my gaze from her. “It’s complicated.”

“No, it’s not. You’re making it that way,” she says in a flat tone that brooks no argument.

“When did you turn into a hard-ass?” I chuckle.

She shrugs, a smile playing at her lips. “Being with Atticus has helped me see a lot of things more clearly. And you, my friend, are running from a good thing. I’m just not sure why anymore.”

“You know why,” I refute.

She takes my hand again. “Your reasoning is flawed. I know you don’t want to date a client. But Archer was your friend before he became your client. He’s always been more and always will be.”

A weight settles on my chest. She’s right. Arch meant more to me even before we slept together last year. “But you know what people will think. Not everyone knows that he’s been in my life for as long as I can remember. All anyone will see is that I’m with a client, and that’s going to look bad for my career.”

“So, does that really matter?” she asks, her eyes searching mine. “You’re already successful, Len. Hell, you’re one of the top agents in the city. You’ve got more high-profile clients than most agents can hope to secure in their whole career, and you’re only twenty-six.”

I swallow hard. I hate that she’s making sense. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Can we talk about something else? Like, oh, I don’t know, that your pregnant!” I say, forcing false cheer into my voice.

She smiles as her hand floats to her belly. “I know. It’s pretty crazy, huh?”

“Did you plan it, or . . .?”

“We talked about it, and Atticus is thirty-seven this year and said he didn’t want to be an old dad. So, I stopped taking the pill, and boom, I fell pregnant pretty much straight away,” she says, a mad blush coating her cheeks.

“What’d the kid have to say about it?” I ask, knowing Arlo would have had an entertaining reaction.

Kins laughs and shakes her head. “He gagged then told us the mental image of us creating life together would forever scar him and to expect a huge therapy bill. Then, he hugged us both and went back to texting some girl.”

“I love that kid,” I tell her, laughing. Arlo is probably the only seventeen-year-old I’d ever willingly spend time with.

“Yeah, he’s pretty great.” A loving smile curves her mouth as she sighs contentedly.

We talk for another hour or so before Kins has to go. I was going to head home too, but I catch a glimpse of the puddle left by Storm beneath the barstools and figure I should probably clean it up for Em.

I dig around under the sink until I’ve found what I need then douse the floor with bleach and disinfectant. I’m thoroughly grossed out as I swish the mop through the mess, but I can’t just leave it here.

When I’m satisfied with the sparkling tiles, I put everything away and finally head to my own apartment. Pushing inside, I’m confused by the presence of more boxes.

“Bates,” I call out. “What’s with the boxes?” He doesn’t answer me, but a loud bang followed by a thunk comes from the room Em just vacated. I stride down the hall until I reach her old room and swing the partially closed door wide open.

“What the fu—”

“Oh, hey, you’re home,” Bates cuts me off.

Archer has Bates in a headlock. They’re both shirtless and sweaty. I blink, then blink again.

“Whose bed is that?” I ask, pointing at the black, king-sized bed that is half-constructed in the middle of the room.

“Mine,” Archer says, smiling widely. “I’m moving in.”