Page 85 of Where We Promise

“And now that you’ve had me?” Her hands came to my chest, hovering over the feathers branded into my skin.

“Now, no one else ever will.”

“This is too much, Jamie.” Pen wrapped her hand around my bicep, leaning into me.

I handed the ticket off to the clerk. “You won’t be able to deliver this, so I’d like to take it with me.”

The man looked confused then dropped his gaze to my cut and he seemed to understand.

Pen was wearing hers over her sweater, with some jeans and boots. She looked hot as fuck, and it was difficult not to suggest we pull the truck over several times throughout the day to fuck her.

“You want the crib, the basinet, the bouncer, the swing, the highchair and the changing table all loaded into the back of your truck?”

I nodded.

“You said it was all in stock, should be simple enough.”

He blushed. “It’s just…I’m the only person here, so this could take a few days to get prepped.”

“How about we return tomorrow, and I’ll bring the man power to load it all up?”

The clerk nodded, his pale, thin face smeared with blotchy facial hair.

Penelope tugged my bicep again, and I looked over realizing her face was pink too.

“Jamie, this is?—”

I pulled her hand up and kissed her wedding ring. “It’s nothing, and Connor needs it.”

“But…”

“You’re not taking a dime from him, Pen.” I wanted to make sure she knew that taking the fucker up on his offer wouldn’t be tolerated, not while I was her husband.

Her eyes found the floor, and I touched her chin, so she’d look at me again. The clerk had moved to the back, leaving us alone.

“Let me do this, please.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

I knew she was worried, so I added in a whisper, “we promised each other.”

That had her eyes snapping up, and her mouth parting.

“When?”

I smiled. “When you took my last name and became my wife, Pen.” I wanted her to realize this was me fighting for her, and for the baby. It was me saying I wanted them both.

We finally left the store, and then headed to another where I cleared out the section with everything I saw on the app that suggested Pen might need it at some point. Breast pads, a pump of some kind, nipple cream, blankets, bottles, a bottle cleaner, diaper bags, one for her and one for me that looked a tad more masculine. Diapers, a shit ton of those and wipes. I just kept adding things to the cart, and with each thing, I saw Pen’s face begin to brighten, as if an invisible burden was suddenly being lifted.

She protested with her words, but her body language conveyed excitement. I hadn’t missed how often she reorganized the small fridge or pantry in the cabin. She moved the living room couch around at least a dozen times, and then redid the clothes hanging in her small closet. The book called it nesting. She needed to organize her baby’s things and prepare a spot for him, and this whole time, she’d never said anything. She was likely just going to deal with whatever she had on hand and make it work or go back to work the second she popped him out and see what she could figure out.

That was Pen, she was good at adapting.

Wes had texted an invite for us to join Killian and Laura up at their house for dinner. Penelope took a nap, and while she did, I grabbed the number Luke had texted her on and saw a new text that had come in.

Luke’s New Number: Can we just put the bullshit aside and get some food or something? I think if you let me just talk to you face to face, this would be easier.

Fucker.

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