Page 29 of Baller's Surprise Baby

“I’ll drink to that.” She smiles and clinks her glass to mine. A second later I lean in, staring hard at her lips. She licks them nervously and then asks.

“Do I have something on my mouth?”

Moving in even closer I whisper, “Yeah,” as I raise my thumb to her mouth and brush gently over the most perfect bottom lip I’ve ever had the pleasure to touch. I linger there, rubbing, playing until her eyes narrow in suspicion and she lightly bats my hand away.

“You scoundrel!” I tilt back laughing at her and then respond.

“What can I say? A man yearns, and you make me dream, Everly.” She sweeps her eyes up and down my body and when they come back to land on mine, I see longing there as well.

“What do you dream of Ryder?” Her words come out on a breathy whisper, quiet and intimate. I cock my head at her and lift a finger to trace over the side of her face, down her jawline and to her collar bone just above her dress. I swallow as my heart pounds inside. I want her desperately, and I watch as the pulse in her neck flutters in response to my touch. Her breath comes more quickly, and her perfume does something to me that I can’t describe.

“I dream of loving you, and you loving me.” I sweep my fingers over her shoulder and up to stroke over soft strands of hair as I continue. “I dream of knowing you, and letting you see all of me, of giving you everything and knowing you’ve got my back, because you’re steady and faithful.” I set down my drink and then move to take hers and place it on the coffee table so I can lift both hands to her face and hold her there gently, just inches from me when I whisper, “I dream of dating you, and someday, if you let me, I want more.”

She breathes a breathy sound, and I swear I hear her whimper when I lean forward and hover just above her lips, barely half an inch away.

“Let me love you, Everly.” My voice comes out in a husky whisper, and she hovers there with me, frozen for a moment while we breathe each other in. I can see the response in her eyes. Both of us are in the grip of a fierce tide of longing, but I wait.

Finally, at long last she bridges the gap, raising up to press her soft mouth to mine, and all the barriers fall away as we’re swept up in a moment of sheer passion. I bring my hands up to her hair, petting, caressing, trailing my fingers down her back and around her sides to grip her hard at her waist and on her arms, wanting to seize her like a caveman, and trying desperately to pace myself, to let her lead, or at minimum to just keep her with me.

Meanwhile, my coat jacket lays discarded across a chair, and Everly’s hands press against the button-down shirt covering my chest, sweeping up to my neck. She trails her fingers through my hair and then down to my biceps. The moment she grabs at my arms, I slide my hands beneath her thighs and lift her up and onto my lap. She straddles me, and I’m utterly delighted when her short dress pushes all the way up her hips to the V of her legs.

I can’t resist sliding one hand up her thigh and around to grip her behind. She stays there, embracing me, moaning and plastering her chest to mine for several seconds. I reach up to grasp her tightly at her nape, pressing my lips to her with a growing hunger. When she parts her lips my tongue rushes in, exploring, pillaging, and taking. I want everything. I want more, so much more.

After several moments of heaven, she pushes back, and we break the kiss on a gasp, both of us with chests heaving for air as we stare at each other. Her hair is in disarray, her lipstick slightly smudged, and it’s the sexiest look I’ve ever seen on a woman. My eyes rove over her in sheer delight before I reach up to pull her back into my embrace, but she puts up her hands to halt me.

“Ryder.” She speaks in breathy huffs, and I wait on bated breath.

“Take me home… Please?” I stare at her wondering if I understood her correctly, but a second later she slides herself off of my lap and stands, leaving no doubt. I don’t know what to think, but I know what I feel.

I drop my head and wonder what went wrong.

21

Everly

Istare through the lens of my camera and make a minute adjustment, placing subject one in full focus with subject two just slightly blurred out behind and to the side. It’s perfect, and I snap the shot before straightening up. Like every photographer, I’m torn between checking the photos I’ve taken and keeping my eyes open for the next. I’ve been here for hours, and the final speeches are wrapping up for a local charity that provides a halfway service including homes for the unhoused. It’s equally heart-wrenching and impressive. So many of the homeless are battered women with children, and my stomach clenches when I think about the life I might have lived without my Aunt Sharon.

I visit my birth mom once a year on her birthday out of basic loyalty, but it’s never a pleasant experience. She has spent too many years depending on alcohol to help medicate the pain of an abusive man, a man long gone now. I’m grateful he left when I was just a baby and I never suffered at his hands, but Aunt Sharon tells me that he left my mom a shell of the woman she used to be.

My aunt always says that she took me in to let me go to a better school, but over these last few years I’ve wondered if I wasn’t a rescue case. Either way, she’s been more of a mother to me than anyone else in my life, and I thank my lucky stars for her every day.

Letting my camera hang from the strap around my neck, I lower my hands to my belly for a moment. It’s just begun to show a bit, nothing that would be obvious to others, but I can tell my pants are tight now and it won’t be long before I have to get new ones to accommodate the baby. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and picture the baby in my mind, fully formed, laying in my arms while I sing him or her songs and speak sweet nothings.

I picture Ryder as a daddy. I can’t imagine Ryder ever laying a hand on me in anger. He’s excitable and even wild at times but never violent. I rub my thumbs up and down and swear to myself that I’ll never be like my mom. I’ll never let anyone keep me from providing for my child.

I glance down at my hands on my tummy as I wonder at my fate. I think I’m falling for Ryder. I know he’s nuts about me, but the happier he makes me the more scared I get. I’m almost fourteen weeks pregnant, already in my second semester. What if he doesn’t want a baby? We’re hardly dating now, and it’s so fast, so backwards. It seems like we should have a few years together before making any decisions about bringing a child into the world.

How do I even tell him? We’ve only slept together once and we used protection. What if he doesn’t believe the baby is his? What if he thinks I’ve been fooling around with someone else, and I’m just trying to pin this on him? Oh my God, I don’t know what to do!

I glance around me and nod. My work here is done. Skipping over to a group of the organizers, I give my thanks and shake hands before heading out to my car. This was my last freelance gig for the local paper before I start with ABC, another little supplement to tide us over until I get a more consistent paycheck.

I set the map on my phone to the hospital and check for any messages. Nothing. As I pull out of the parking lot, I register the distance. It’s a good forty minutes to the Baylor Scott & White Charles A. Sammons Cancer Center in Dallas where I’ll meet my aunt for a doctor appointment. So, I dial Rachel and put the phone on speaker before setting it in my lap to keep my eyes on the road.

She doesn’t pick up initially, but she calls back when I’m halfway to the hospital.

“Hey Ev, you miss me already?”

“Always,” I respond. There’s no use denying it.

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