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Authors: Claudia Burgoa

Uncharted (Unexpected Book 3) (40 page)

BOOK: Uncharted (Unexpected Book 3)

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“How is she?” Dad asks as he approaches me. “Any news?”

I shake my head. During tonight’s concerts, while I serenaded my wife who watched me from backstage, she collapsed. Dad caught her in midair before she hit the ground. My heart shrinks and my chest constricts as the image of Pria almost hitting the floor plays in my mind. One moment she’s watching me with those sweet, tender eyes, and the next she’s a lifeless body. I slammed my guitar down and rushed to her side. Calling her name, I carried her to the dressing room, but she didn’t regain consciousness until the paramedics strapped her to the stretcher. Tristan, my partner, promised to control the chaos. Pops, who was also backstage, finished the concert for me as I rushed on my motorcycle behind the ambulance that drove her to the nearest hospital.

My heart bounces against my ribcage each time someone exits the doors that connect the ER waiting room. I bounce between my heels and my toes while waiting for a doctor or nurse to come out and tell me that nothing is wrong with my Twinkle.

“She’s going to be fine, son.” Dad hugs me.

“Look at it on the bright side, Jacky. You’re home and not in some foreign country,” Pops adds. “Your family is here. Tell me how to help you. I’m guessing you’re canceling the remaining dates?”

“I think so, though I only have two left out of town.” Pria and I planned to be here for Grace’s second birthday, as she’s our goddaughter and favorite niece. Then there’s Matthew, who is sick and tired of being in charge of everything and begged us to come back soon. Unbelievable, two months in charge and he’s already whining. “The rest of the shows are here at
Thrice
—our venue. My last one for a couple of years. I want to work with a few new artists and create new material.”

Chris smiles at me because I’m doing what I like. Back to scouting, producing, playing, and creating. The wife is in charge of the recording studio and label. She also has her branding gig, which has grown into a huge company for the past two years.

Mae: What happened to my sister?

Jacob: Nothing.

Mae: There’s a video on YouTube of her hitting the floor and you rushing to rescue her. Plus #JCDeckerswife is trending.

Jacob: I’ll have her call you soon. Gotta go!

Fuck!

AJ: Pria?

JC: She’s okay.

AJ: Call me if you want to change Sunday dinner. I can bring everything to your house.

JC: Nah, she’ll be fine. We only live a couple of houses from you.

AJ: Okay, the four of us are sending our love to you and Pria. Mase says to call if you need him.

JC: Thank you. How are you feeling?

AJ: Great, this second pregnancy is easier.

JC: I’m glad. Love you too.

JC: Matt. Call our people to control the media, my wife’s trending.

MJ: I saw that, and the dramatic display. What happened? OD by ice cream?

JC: Not funny dude.

After Pria’s stomach infection during her trip to South America a couple of years back, she began to switch her eating habits. The woman eats healthier than my sister, and that’s close to impossible. However, Twinkle’s theory makes sense. They have the same foods all around the world; the difference is in how they cook it. If we eat organic, and basic styles of cooking—grilled, broiled, and boiled—we don’t have to adjust to any changes. Sugar is off her menu. Our only sweet is fruit. However, ice cream is her religion and she will never leave it. That’s why my brother is mocking us now. We don’t drink, either.

MJ: It is to me, hippie. Are you home yet? I don’t see the lights of your house on.

JC: We’re at the hospital.

MJ: We’ll take care of your trendy wife. Text me as soon as you know what’s up with her. We love you guys.

“The family of Pria Colthurst-Decker?” a woman wearing scrubs calls. My fathers and I march to where she stands and she sweeps me from top to bottom a couple of times. “And you are?”

“Her husband.”

“Mhmmm, I see.” She scribbles something, I adjust my beanie hat, roll down my sleeves, and dust off my jeans. “Follow me.”

I spot her in the first room to my right. Her hair tied into a braid, her eyes are shining as they spot me, and her expression screams
take me home
.

“Twinkle!” I rush to her side, hug her, and inspect her. She has an IV connected to her arm and is wearing a flimsy gown. “Are you okay, babe?” As I’m about to joke about the gown and having a quickie, I realize she’s so quiet. “Twink, talk to me.”

“I don’t know…if I’m okay.” Her confused tone confuses me too. “They’re saying the most bizarre thing.” She takes my hand and pats it. “I don’t have a concussion, but the word they told me makes me dizzy. Pregnant. Please find the doctor and explain to him that we can’t have children.”

I grin and take her lips, because even when she’s giving me the news in the flattest way possible, she’s shared the best news since…since she agreed to marry me.

“You’re not surprised?” I shake my head. “I don’t…this…I should be happy. Can you explain? I want to, but I’m scared, this wasn’t in the plans—ever.”

I owe her an explanation, but I need to wait until my heart rate slows.
We’re pregnant.
We’re going to have our very own baby.

“During our first Christmas, while we stargazed, you asked me what I’d wish to the Christmas star. I wished for a baby.” I shrug, as if saying
what can you do
? Pria looks beautiful when she holds babies. I love Grace and there are times I wish I had one of my own. We’d planned on adopting but… “The next day I browsed through the Internet and found several articles about dudes that had different type of accidents but the same prognosis. One of them is the proud father of three beautiful kids now. I talked to the doctor. He explained that sometimes the sperm count increases, others are pure luck. I set that info in the back of my mind for the future, and just thought, miracles do happen.”

“That sounds too simple,” Twinkle murmurs. She places her hand on her flat belly and I place mine on top.

I circle her left wrist and turn it lightly, reading her tattoo, “Love is simple,” then connect my wrist to hers overlapping the same words on top of hers. That’s us: our love and our life. Simple. Nothing complicated. If it’s meant to happen, it’ll flow, like the sound of the music through the wind. We’ve already had too much drama to last us a lifetime.

“I love you, Jace.” She smiles and finally relaxes. “We’re having a baby…I’m having your baby. Little Gabrielle—or Gabriel.”

I use my thumb to clear the few tears she lets slide down her face, and kiss her again.

“I love you too, Twinkle.”

I have always been a dreamer. When I first met Pria, I shared so many of my dreams with her, and even then, I could see her in them all. Thank God, she is my dream come true. With or without a baby, as she said when I proposed, we became a family. But with children? I somehow feel that makes us totally complete, that all of our dreams are coming true. She is my bright shining star forever, my beloved.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Chasity Jenkins read the first draft of UAO and said: I want a book for each brother. Thank you for that and being patient with me when I’m having a severe anxiety attack.

To Marion Archer, who fit me into her busy schedule. Jumping into the middle of a series, but understanding what Jacob and Pria were all about. And even when life threw the unexpected at her, she came through with this. Thank you.

Carol Allen, who never fails to help me with the scrambling ideas that swirl inside my head. Love you much.

Vanessa Bridges, who is also a new addition to the team. We fit in perfectly.

To Paulina, who dedicated a lot of her time to this MS. Thank you for being such an amazing kid—yes, you’re not a kid. I know.

Without these ladies, I’d be lost, my beta readers: Gloria Herrera, Christina McPherson-Mock & Paulina.

That amazing cover that wraps this precious book was created by the great Hang Le.

Shirley Frances, who spends a lot of time formatting the book.

To the amazing bloggers, who read and promote my book. My readers for your support, writing reviews and to those who write me those amazing notes telling me that my stories touched them. My fellow writers, thank you for being there for me.

My family, who supports me day and night through this journey and believe in me, even when they know I’m missing a little screw. My friends, who drag me out of the house and have no problem listening to my book issues. I think they’re starting to believe that my characters are real.

ABOUT CLAUDIA BURGOA

Born on the mystical day of October 30th in the not so mystical lands of Mexico City, Claudia grew up with a childhood that resembled a caffeine-injected soap opera. Seventeen years ago she ventured to the lands of her techie husband—a.k.a. the U.S.—with their offspring to start a new adventure.

She now lives in Colorado working as a CFO for a small IT company, managing her household filled with three confused dogs, said nerd husband, two daughters wrought with fandoms and a son who thinks he’s the boss of the house. To survive she works continually to find purpose for the voices flitting through her head, plus she consumes high quantities of chocolate to keep the last threads of sanity intact.

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