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Blurb:
An African American, high school sweethearts, billionaire, pregnancy romance story.
Danielle’s high school sweetheart Dev is back in town.
Her life’s about to change forever.
Here for his father’s funeral, something Danielle can relate to due to her father also having passed, the two decide to attend this gathering together.
And when he finds comfort in Danielle which results in a night of passion, some familiar feelings begin to surface.
Dev is now a billionaire, and he wasn’t planning on staying in town long.
But with his feelings for Danielle back and stronger than ever, will his plans change?
Especially when he finds out they’ve a baby on the way?
Discover now in this Black pregnancy romance novel by Ashlie Brookes.
Chapter 1
It was going to be a bad day. A horrible, terrible, awful, gross day. Danielle had known that since the moment she woke up with memories of high school. What could be worse, really? One simply understood deep within themselves that when high school sprang up in mind, it was going to be a living hell.
She had stood up with a huge pain in her forearm due to her sleeping on it the whole night. Vaguely, she could remember her dream and reconstruct it in her mind. She had been in class again in a uniform with some pimples on her face and braces. But that had been when she was just a naïve, new freshman. The time when she had been laughed at and had faced unimaginable bullying from the mean girls in her class. Those five white girls had set their minds on making her life worse and worse with every passing day. Luckily, graduation had happened and she had been dressed in her prom dress with her handsome boyfriend at her side. Even in her dream, she could smell his powerful cologne and touch the smoothness of his chocolate-brown skin. The gleaming white teeth – a perfect contrast against his complexion – had been just as mesmerizing as when she had witnessed them many years back. However, everything had turned into a nightmare as if by a simple swish of a magic wand. Her boyfriend had gone to the leader of the pack of mean girls and they had started making out in front of her, which had been so much different from the original version that had happened exactly ten years ago. Her mother had been yelling by then; her voice muffled by the angry shouts of customers. She had opened her eyes all in a sweat and with a heavy breathing.
And now Danielle was facing her features, still masked by sleep, in the bathroom mirror. Running a comb across her long, curly hair that fell in waves to her shoulders was an impossible mission. With an obvious aggressiveness and frustration, she tried desperately to smooth it, but in vain. It still went in all directions. Oh, my, yes! A bad hair day was the precise thing she needed that already dreadful morning.
Her almond eyes wanted more time to sleep, but after the whole high school nightmare, she was worried that it might come back, so she splashed three handfuls of water on her face. Much better, she thought, soaked, giving herself a wane smile.
Danielle was by no means an average-looking young woman. As puberty kicked in, her body became more attractive and her face changed into one of a model’s. Her nose had just the right length, her lips were full, her white teeth even and impeccable. And she took care of her figure perhaps due to her job at the grocery store.
She quickly brushed her teeth, put on some light makeup and was ready for work, but her feet desperately took her backward to her bed. Still dressed in her pajamas, she went to the living-room.
It was the most spacious room in the small house she shared with her mother. With yellow walls and a wooden floor, it held all the light from the windows. The furniture was pretty scarce – one sofa and two armchairs together with a club table in between and a small TV at the end. However, it was hers and she liked it.
There was music coming out of the TV, filling the whole floor. Some famous singer performed his new song on one of those daily shows which her mother loved. Danielle immediately went to the small kitchenette to see what was for breakfast. Her mother’s voice came from the living room.
“I already prepared you a sandwich, Danny. Let’s have a breakfast together,” her mother’s rusty voice thick with a Southern accent came from the other room.
“Okay! Coming!” Danielle yelled back and stopped to look at the calendar perched above the drying machine. It was the twenty-first. An important date for the two women crammed in that small house that they felt like foreign. A deep sigh tore from her chest as she headed to the living room.
Esther had her legs on the club table while she was eating a sandwich herself with her eyes fixed on the TV screen.
“Morning, Mom! What’s up?” Danielle kissed her mother on the cheek and flopped on the armchair. Her sandwich was lying in a white plate on the table.
“Nothing much, you know,” Esther replied. “Just wanted to go and wake you up. We’re going to be late!” Danielle’s mother was already dressed in the uniform of the grocery store they were working in.
Silence. The energy between them was almost palpable and that hurt Danielle. She felt her heart contorting and giving way under the sudden weight pressed onto it.
“So, who’s on the show?” She tried to change the subject, taking a huge bite of the sandwich. It had a thin slice of ham, a slice of cheese, cabbage leaves, and an egg. The taste buds on her tongue rejoiced at the wonderful blend of flavors.
“Dunno really. Some white youngster with blond hair. He’s good-looking and sings well, I can tell you that.” Her mother was licking her fingertips, obviously done with her meal.
Danielle chuckled. “Mother! He’s old enough to be your grandson. Look at him!”
“Don’t you ever mention that your mama is old, Danielle. I am in my best years. I am still young.” Esther ran her hand across her body in a demonstration of her attractiveness and youth. The both of them laughed and Danielle thought she would choke.
With each moment of silence, Danielle shivered. Not from coldness, but from the uneasiness they both sensed. She quickly glanced at the clock and saw that they had almost half an hour until the bus came. She finished her sandwich in utter peace as the corner of her eye scanned her mother. Her behavior, her eyes, her posture.
“Which date is it today?” Esther spoke, her voice muffled by the hand put under her chin. Her look was fixed ahead and didn’t even shift to her daughter.
Danielle was taken aback. She didn’t know if her mother was asking her casually, out of sheer curiosity, or she was just using the question to get to the painful subject. She remained quiet for a while before she uttered, “In a few days, it’s going to be April.” It was a diplomatic answer.
“I asked you for the date.” Esther’s tone was light and pretty much high. Danielle couldn’t notice a single hint.