Page 33 of Pretty Little Disaster

“How many scoops?” She looks as if she’s willing to negotiate.

“As many as you can eat.” I expect to see her face light up for me again but she pouts instead.

“Great… Just aid me in getting fatter.” She rolls her eyes like a brat.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I laugh to myself. If I can’t pull a pregnant woman out of a bad mood with food, it means I got nothing, and Dario’s advice isn’t worth shit.

“Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. That night after Serena’s when I noticed that my tummy popped out… Well, it hasn’t popped back in.” She looks embarrassed as she lifts up her tee and shows me the ever-so-slight curve of her stomach. “Were you not wondering why I’ve abandoned my jeans for yoga pants these past few days…? Nic, I was hoping I’d get to at least twenty weeks before I had to do that.” She’s still displaying that pout, and the neat, little bump that goes with it is making me want to pull over this car and fuck the brattiness right out of her.

“Well, I like it, and I’m glad it’s here to stay.” I slide my hand up from her thigh and rest it there, instead. “It doesn’t look like our baby wants to stick to your schedule.” I want to lean across the console and kiss her, but what she said as we left the apartment has me worrying that things are already getting out of hand. I’m already pushing my luck by waiting for her to fall asleep before getting into bed beside her, each night. I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned that.

“Then I guess you better take me for that gelato,” she snarls at me, but I see the little shimmer that's back in her eyes. She doesn’t know it yet but I’m going to ensure she enjoys gettingfatwith my baby. She’s going to love how her body changes as much as I will.

I drive to the gelato shop and when I open the door for her she steps inside and takes a seat at one of the booths. I’m watching her excitement as she studies the menu when I feel my phone vibrate and see Dario’s name flash up on my screen.

“Excuse me just a second.” I head back out the doors to take the call and smile to myself when I look back through the window and catch her looking down and talking to her tummy.

“You got Lorna with you?” Dario asks, and I don’t like the concern I’m hearing in his voice.

“Yeah, she’s here, why?”

“Can she hear me?”

“No, I left her ordering gelato, what's up?”

“It’s Doyle. He’s packed up and fucked off. Something fucking spooked him and he’s gone without a trace.”

“Shit.” I lower the phone from my ear and clench my fists. Then when I see Lorna speaking to the waitress, I quickly lift it back to my ear.

“I’ve got no name for Alto and no fucking answers, Nic.” Dario sounds mad which is not what I need when I’m competing for a district.

“Leave it with me, I’ll see what I can find out,” I assure him.

“That fucker is going to make contact with his girl, sooner or later, don’t let her out of your fucking sight, Nic. That’s an order.”

“You got it, boss,” I tell him confidently before hanging up. At least I know that's a promise I can stick to.

LORNA

THREE WEEKS LATER

“Idon’t think Brody is at all genuine, he’s leading her into a total showmance,” I explain, touching my hand to my stomach when I feel that tiny flutter in my lower belly. It feels different to the ones Nic gives me, and I’m convinced that they are coming from the baby. “She would be much better off with Hendley. He’s trustworthy.”

“Who are you talking to?” Nic steps into the living area covered in sweat and looking hot-as-hell in just his gym shorts.Damn him.

“I wasn’t talking to anyone,” I shrug him off, suddenly feeling stupid.

“You know, the baby won’t be able to hear you for another two weeks,” he tells me before drinking some water.

“I wasn’t tal…How do you even know these things?” I growl in frustration. Nic is always coming out with pregnancy or baby knowledge and it’s starting to make me feel inadequate.

He doesn’t answer me, just comes to take a seat beside me and pulls down the front of my yoga pants.

“Now you'rereallypopping out,” he tells me, proudly rolling his palm around my neat, little bump and making me feel a little less inadequate. He may know all the facts, but I’m the one doing the practical.

“I know, Madalina has given me a bunch of her maternity clothes,” I confess. She must have noticed my clothes getting tight the last time I visited because she disappeared upstairs and came down with a box full of clothes. Not that I’m complaining, every item inside it was designer, and some still even had tags on.

“Why didn’t you just buy some yourself?” Nic looks at me strangely.

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