Bearing My Boss's Baby (An MPreg Romance) Read online

  "I appreciate it," Claude said. "I'll make the appointment with the lawyer, shall I?" He turned on his heel, starting to leave the office.

  Kevin wanted to call him back, to say something that would make him understand, something that conveyed the feelings that were pounding inside of him, making his hands sweat and his tongue numb as he tried to force himself towards something real, to say something believable.

  Nothing came to mind. The door closed behind Claude, leaving Kevin alone. His phone rang and he slapped it off without looking, knowing full well how easily that could come back to bite him in the ass later. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except how badly he'd screwed up this time.

  He stared at his computer screen, idly flicking open a browser window. He was going to make it right again. He was.

  It was like the first crack in a dam, thoughts slowly seeping back into the numb emptiness of his brain. He was definitely going to make it right. Claude would have the best. The baby—their baby—would have all the best.

  All he had to do was organize it. How hard could it be?

  Chapter 9

  Claude

  Logically, Claude knew that his address was in the personnel records that Kevin had access to. This was a very different thing from being prepared to face a knock on the door and having Kevin step into his apartment, barely disguised disdain written all over his face.

  "Can...can I help you?" Claude asked, stepping back involuntarily as Kevin strode in like the place belonged to him.

  "You asked for my support," Kevin said earnestly. "I wanted to see what you need."

  "Right." Claude stared at him, uncertain what to say next. He hadn't exactly prepared a list of things. He was still processing the intense relief he’d felt when Kevin had agreed to everything without complaint. He watched Kevin for a long, silent moment, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with how Kevin was examining his small apartment.

  It wasn't as if the baby was going to be arriving next week. He had plenty of time to get his place ready to house someone more than himself, especially once he stopped feeling too shocked to clean the place.

  "I—" he started to say, wanting to defend himself, and stopped, uncertain what the next word should be. Kevin hadn't done anything wrong yet; he didn't want to yell at him. But neither did he want to find himself judged like this.

  Disarmingly, Kevin turned back to look Claude in the eye, his smile wide. As ever, it made Claude feel like his knees had turned to jelly, and he hated himself for the weakness. Surely he should be over this after all of Kevin's indifference? But he felt himself melting under Kevin's beaming regard and knew he wasn't.

  "I just want what's best for you— for the baby," Kevin said earnestly. "I'm going to do everything for you. Two. You two."

  It was nice to know that Claude wasn't going to have to worry about money, but that wasn't a very specific plan. He opened his mouth to ask more questions, but Kevin took his hand, shocking him into silence.

  "Come with me, I want to show you something," Kevin said, and before Claude knew what was happening, the two of them were driving away in Kevin's car, the smoothness of the ride belying the speed at which they were moving.

  They drove largely in silence, Claude trying to piece together exactly what was going on. It seemed as though a million years had passed since he sat down on his couch with a cup of tea, idly looking over his phone notifications, but—he checked the clock on the car dashboard—it had only been twenty minutes or so.

  He only caught a glimpse of the building as they swerved in a smooth arc into the driveway and down into the underground garage, unhindered by the gates that whooshed upwards silently at their approach. It wasn't a building that Claude had ever been in before, he knew that much, but he wasn't sure why he recognized it. Maybe he'd gone past it before, it seemed likely enough. His attention was pulled away as the car drew to a stop and parked in the dimly-lit garage, Kevin bounding out of the car in an instant to pull Claude along with him towards the elevator.

  The elevator was empty and silent, even as the mechanisms jerked at the pit of Claude's stomach. "Where are we?" he asked finally, gathering himself together.

  Kevin looked at him confusedly, as though he should have figured all of this out a long time ago. "We're in my building, of course," he said. The elevator glided to a stop, cutting off whatever else he might have added. "This way."

  The apartment that Kevin pulled Claude into was more or less what Claude would have expected. The same eye that had bought this furniture had finished the offices at headquarters, resulting in a sleek blend of modern lines and warm colors, inviting without being too personal, and expensive without showiness. The only hint of real personality was in the things scattered across the perfectly maintained surfaces: a couple of sweaters, some tablets, a small pile of magazines on a table with the corners dogeared as though they'd been read many times.

  "This way," Kevin said, as though he wasn't showing Claude his apartment for the first time, as though it was totally normal for Claude to be here. He put his hand on the small of Claude's back, propelling him forward, his hand warm through Claude's shirt, his touch sending shivers up Claude's spine.

  They passed two or three doors before Kevin opened one, leading Claude into a bedroom, perfectly made up, with no hint that anyone had ever slept here, much less did so regularly. "What do you think?" Kevin said eagerly.

  Claude blinked at him. "Did you bring me here for an opinion on your decorator?" If this was a come-on, it was the weirdest one yet. He'd expect to be asked if he wanted to fuck, not if the surface they'd bang on was good enough for him.

  Kevin laughed. "I mean, do you like it? Would this work for you?" Claude stared at him, still not really taking Kevin's words in. "You should live here," Kevin said, leaning down slightly and grasping Claude's hands in his. "For the baby. I want to be there for both of you, and this way you'll be able to have anything you need."

  He tugged lightly on Claude's hand, pulling him back into the hallway and into the next room. "I haven't been using this room for much," he said, opening another door into a room that was largely empty aside from a few boxes. "I thought it could be the nursery." He was almost glowing as he spoke, happiness radiating off of him. "You'll have anything you need, I promise."

  "I can't—" Claude said, stuttering to a stop. "I can't do this."

  "Sure you can." Kevin smiled at him, squeezing his hand. "This way I can help you out. You and the baby." His face fell a tiny bit. "Unless you don't like it. If it's too weird, I can get you another place. There's someone trying to sell on the floor below, I think. I can see what I can do there?"

  If there was one thing weirder than having Kevin suggest casually that they move in together, it was Kevin offering to buy Claude a ludicrously expensive condo like it was nothing. Combine that with the expression of disappointment that Kevin was valiantly trying to hide, and there was no chance that Claude wasn't going to fold like a house of cards. He'd never been able to deny Kevin anything before, and this was a kind of culmination of all of his fantasies—even if it was nothing like the way that he'd imagined it in his most romantic daydreams.

  "Are you sure?" he asked again, feeling Kevin's fingers tense against his palm. "I don't want to get in your way..."

  "Of course," Kevin said, his smile back in full and beating down any remaining resistance Claude might have had. "There's tons of room here. Let me show you. We'd hardly even have to see each other if you don't want to." He led the way back into the hall again, talking about the other rooms he was going to show Claude as though he hadn't just broken Claude's heart.

  Chapter 10

  Kevin

  Moving Claude into the penthouse was a surprisingly straightforward process. Claude was supposed to have marked everything in his old place that he wanted to bring along and sent the rest of it to storage, but the movers that Kevin had hired only brought a few boxes into the penthouse and hardly any furniture. They piled the boxes in Claude's new roo
m, looking at Kevin as though they were wondering why they'd even been hired for something this simple.

  Claude came up in the elevator behind them, his laptop bag cradled carefully in his arms.

  "Is this it?" Kevin said as he walked in the door, gesturing at the small pile of Claude's things.

  Claude shrugged. "Didn't have much," he said. "Unless you really wanted my old couch to mess up your decorating." He laughed at the involuntary expression that crossed Kevin's face. "Thought not."

  "You can bring anything you want here," Kevin said earnestly. "I want this to be your home too." That was the crux of the matter, the secret goal that he'd refused to let himself say aloud until now. However well he'd thought that he'd accepted Claude's indifference, that spark of hope had still remained within him, and the news of Claude's pregnancy had fanned that spark into a flame. Maybe Claude didn't want him anymore, but he could keep him safe now, could protect Claude and give him everything he'd ever wanted. It was almost enough.

  "Thanks," Claude said. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes and Kevin wondered what he'd done wrong, how he could fix it. "I'll just go unpack then."

  "Are you sure?" Kevin half-rose from his chair, holding out his hand like he meant to stop Claude from moving.

  Claude looked at him with disbelief.

  Kevin tried to smile. "I just want you to be careful, that's all. In your condition, after all..."

  Claude laughed. "It's hardly a condition yet. I can hang a few clothes."

  "Well, just let me know if you need help." Kevin couldn't help raking his eyes over the lines of Claude's body. He was right: the pregnancy was hardly showing yet, and certainly it was invisible under his shirt, but that was why Kevin was the most concerned. He didn't want Claude to exert himself too much now and have problems later.

  "You'll get someone to come do it for me?" Claude said, eyebrow raised, a twitch just visible at the corner of his mouth.

  "Something like that," Kevin said, relaxing back again. At least if Claude felt like he could make jokes, everything wasn't lost between the two of them. It was a thought that he held onto during the long awkward evening that he spent in his living room straining his ears to hear the sounds Claude made as he put his things away. Claude hadn't asked for his help, which Kevin wasn't surprised by, but he also hadn't emerged from his room for more than a few minutes.

  Claude's room was a big suite, of course. It had its own bathroom, and practically an entire seating area off to the side, the huge windows overlooking one of the best views in the place. There was no real reason for him to leave if he was just getting comfortable. It would be just like Claude to try and not get in Kevin's way, and Kevin didn't know how to tell him that he could come get in Kevin's way any time he wanted.

  He'd just have to wait. Claude was doing fine. There would be plenty of time.

  This resolution lasted until the next morning.

  Kevin was in his gym, just finishing up his usual work-out. He liked to get up and do it early, watching the fog lift over the city as he ran on the treadmill, letting his mind wander over his schedule for the day and all the things he needed to do. He wiped his face on his towel, checking the clock on the wall. Under his usual time too. Must be a good sign.

  That was when the sound started, at first a soft groan that made Kevin doubt his own ears, and then a retching that no amount of walls and doors between could disguise, a retching that went on and on, rising and falling. Kevin raced through the penthouse, still in his workout clothes. He banged on Claude's door, hearing the noise within, and called Claude's name in tones of increasing desperation.

  No response.

  "Claude!" Kevin called again, and thrust the door open, pushing his way into the room to see the bathroom light spilling into the bedroom as Claude bent over the toilet, looking worse than Kevin had maybe ever seen him.

  "Are you okay?" Kevin said, racing to Claude's side and dropping to his knees. He reached out with one trembling hand.

  Claude lifted his head, his pale face drawn and grey. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm fine," he said, voice croaking. "It's just morning sickness. It's normal."

  "You don't look normal," Kevin said, stroking his hand down Claude's back.

  Claude's laugh was more of a gust of air than a chuckle. "Thanks, man."

  "You know what I mean." Kevin squeezed Claude's shoulder, bolder now that his panic was beginning to wear off, replaced by more concrete concern. "How are you feeling?"

  "Like shit," Claude said frankly. He gulped, his face twisting, eyes screwed up. "Just let me alone and let this happen, okay?"

  "Is there anything I can do?" Kevin asked.

  Claude shook his head briefly and leaned over the porcelain bowl again. "Nope," he said shortly, and puked again.

  Kevin grabbed a glass off the side of the sink and got him some water. Claude took it without looking up. "Just let me finish and clean up, okay?"

  "We have staff," Kevin assured him. "Don't worry about cleaning anything.”

  "I meant, clean me up," Claude said with a sigh. "It's fine. I'll be ready to go later." He managed to shoo Kevin out of the bathroom, and Kevin returned to the hall to pace, thinking over Claude's illness with frustration.

  Behind the closed door, the shower clicked on, a rumble of noise covering any other sounds from the room, and Kevin remembered his own sweaty state. He raced back to his own room, taking the fastest shower possible, but Claude still beat him to the kitchen and was there, sipping another glass of water, when Kevin returned, still dripping from his haphazard attempts to towel off his hair.

  "How are you doing?" Kevin said breathlessly from the doorway to the kitchen.

  "Little better," Claude assured him, but his face was still drawn and tight.

  "You should eat something," Kevin decided. "I'll take you out."

  Claude looked pained. "No," he said firmly. "That sounds like a bad idea right now." One hand stroked across his stomach absently, the other gripped the glass until the knuckles were white.

  "You should eat something though," Kevin said. "There's stuff in the fridge—"

  "No," Claude said again, cutting him off. "Just, let me be, okay? I've been dealing with this for a while now. Doctor says it'll stop soon."

  Kevin felt a terrible pang of guilt. Claude had been going through this alone all this time, and he hadn't noticed a thing, had allowed him to work like nothing was wrong. He rushed to Claude's side.

  "Take the day off," he said, looking deep into Claude's eyes. "Take the week. You shouldn't have to work when you feel like this."

  Chapter 11

  Claude

  Somehow, without Claude ever planning it that way, his time off for morning sickness developed into early maternity leave. Kevin hardly seemed to hear his protestations, assuring him that he'd arranged everything and there was nothing to worry about. It wasn't as if he was concerned that Kevin was lying: the documentation granting Claude early leave, followed by a full year of parental leave after the approximate due date, had appeared in Claude's inbox shortly after the conversation, all as perfectly in order as Claude could ask for.

  Also as impersonal as possible, which felt particularly weird now that Claude was living in his boss's house. He should, he knew, stop thinking of Kevin as his boss. For one thing, he was clearly not going to be working for the guy for the next year and a half or so, and for another, it would probably make co-parenting a little awkward. It was difficult to forget, however, when Kevin kept throwing his weight around, arranging for Claude's leave from work, or checking in with him that his health insurance wasn't going to be a problem at any point during the pregnancy.

  Claude could have maybe gotten over it if he'd had something else to do, but now that he was barred from work, all he had left was sitting in the apartment, watching the baby grow. With that kind of entertainment, was it really a surprise that he spent so much time dwelling on Kevin's behavior?

  Sometimes he would be as sweet and t
ender as he was in Claude's wildest dreams, rushing into the room to see if Claude's morning sickness was all right. Other nights, he wouldn't come home until late, still staring at his phone as he stepped through the front door and disappearing into his side of the penthouse with hardly a word of greeting in Claude's direction. A difficult mix for Claude to base his infatuation on, but somehow he was managing. It was better than thinking over how he was going to explain the situation to his parents.

  He'd still been dragging his heels on telling them about the baby when Kevin had stepped into his apartment and upended his life, and there hadn't been time during the move to talk to them. Now that Claude was installed in the penthouse and no longer working, he had all the time in the world, but an awfully difficult explanation to make, and one that got worse for every day that he stalled in making it.

  Claude's friends were no help: he was still working out how to explain to them that the baby was Kevin's and that he was living in Kevin's apartment. At least his parents hadn't been informed of his helpless crush on his boss, so they wouldn't understand just how bad the situation was. On the other hand, they'd definitely want to know when the wedding was, and of all the things Claude didn't want to do, explaining to his parents that he and Kevin didn't really have that kind of relationship was pretty high on the list.

  He was still trying to write the perfect explanatory email—current status: "Dear Mom and Dad." It had stalled out after that—when he picked up the phone out of the blue to his mother's excited voice.

  "Hi, honey!" she practically yelled, which meant that she was using her cell phone for once.

  "Hi, mom," Claude said quietly.

  "I can't hear you!" she yelled back. "Nevermind. Anyway. We're in town! We thought we'd surprise you! We'll pick you up in twenty minutes or so: as soon as we can get out of all this traffic!"