Page 47 of Babydoll

Holy shit.

Chapter Twelve

Three months later

Lulah

I stare out of the SUV window at the passing houses. I don’t think I’d ever even set foot in this neighborhood. Not that the place I’d lived in town was bad, but it certainly wasn’t like this. Every house on the street is a gorgeous, beautifully kept, century home. And they’re all set well back from the road, with expansive front lawns and old fashioned streetlights with intricately carved rod iron posts and ball lamps.

“You okay?” Jeff asks, pulling me from my trance.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I answer, glancing at him. His brow arches so I sigh and add, “A little nervous.”

“Why?”

I motion out the window. “Look at this neighborhood. I don’t fit in.”

“You’re worried you don’t fit in with a neighborhood?” His small chuckle makes me swat his arm. He takes my hand, holds it in his and sets both on his lap.

“It’s…”

“A neighborhood. You’re a person. There’s no comparison.”

“Arg! You know what I mean.”

“My parents love you, Lulah. And my niece does too.”

I roll my eyes. “You can love someone but living with them is a completely different thing. They could end up hating me. And Reece loves The Pudding Pilferer, she’s never met me. She could hate me.”

“Four-year-olds are notorious haters, I know.” He shakes his head. “Trust me,she’s going to love you.”

“You spent too much time with Lu. Picked up too much of her sarcasm.”

Jeff squeezes my hand. “Stop worrying. I love you and that’s enough for them.”

“Say it again,” I ask, nibbling my lip.

“Babydoll, stop worrying.” He glances at me and I pout.

“Not that.” I growl. “The other thing.”

“I love you?” he asks, his voice rising as he turns into a semi-circle driveway.

I look wide-eyed at the house. “Yeah, that. Say it again quickly before I freak out.”

“Lulah Jane Olsen, I love you. I love you so much I’d give up eating pudding for the rest of eternity.”

I snort, turning back from the grand house to roll my eyes at him. “You don’t even like pudding.”

Releasing my hand, he reaches down to unbuckle his seatbelt with a click. “But I love my niece, and she loves pudding, and she’ll disown me if I stop eating it, and that will kill me, so basically, I love you more than my life.”

“Wow. That’s quite a winding road you took me on.”

“I love you more than life itself. And my family is going to love you living with us too. You know why?”

“Because I’m amazing,” I murmur flatly. He pinches my inner thigh and I yelp.

“Because you’re sweet, and caring, and giving, and smart. You’re courageous and moral and brave and strong?—”

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