Page 2 of Inevitably Yours

A kiss to her cheek and a smooth as ganache voice ripped her from her thoughts. Wow, pregnancy really does change everything, I’m even thinking in food descriptors now. Gus took a second, trying to remember the word she used to associate with John’s manly voice, but it escaped her.

When she looked up, her gaze clashed with orbs reminiscent of Stacy’s. Not in a creepy way, thank God. They were different enough, a bit of green tempered John’s eyes, toning down the almost startling blue jean color he shared with his sister. Plus, she never felt like she was drowning under her ex-BFF’s gaze. Yes, she is back to ex status.

“Hello, Augusta, how’re you feeling?” She relished the weight of his gaze for two seconds, before John’s lashes hid his aqua pools from her view. It was the longest he’d looked at her in months. Heck, it was the only time actually. Not true, he looks at me, he just doesn’t see me anymore.

Gus allowed her gaze to track the small lines that sprang out from the corner of his eyes. They were lines most would try to erase because they spoke of age, but John’s also spoke of laughter and tears. The gray that was threaded through his dark hair and beard added dimension and character. He was definitely a man who got more distinguished as time passed.

Embarrassment caused Gus to avert her attention from his ever-present disappointment to his hands still gently gripping her biceps. She took a mental inventory of his touch because she knew as soon as he realized where his hands were, he’d remedy it.

John had the hands of a strong, experienced man—one who wasn’t averse to hard work, or proper grooming. Through her sweat shirt, she couldn’t feel the remnants of the rough patches no amount of moisturizer and manicures could fully remove, but she knew they were there. They always were, even when they were fresh from the salon.

The rest of the guys—well, Michael and Walker, anyway—gave him hell about doing spa time with her and Stacy, but he never let it stop him. John genuinely enjoyed spending time with his sister. Their sibling bond was darn near unbreakable. Tori and Walker had that kind of closeness too, not quite what John and Stacy had, but still pretty dang tight.

Gus was loath to admit it to herself, but she was jealous. Again, with that flipping J-word. Not because she was possessive over the man she secretly, or not so secretly according to Stacy, loved. Or even because she was jelly because her bestie had another bestie in her brother, but because she feared she would never have that with January.

Maybe it was a brother-sister thing, one a sister-sister combo could never hope to accomplish. Maybe for Tori and Walker, it was the type of family they were raised in that bonded them. Frank and Francis were awesome and never placed expectations on their children, so there was never any disappointment if they didn’t live up to them. They let their children choose their own path in life and stood by them, even if that path took a not-so-perfect turn.

The Reids had even claimed all of Tori and Walker’s friends as their “kids,” no matter their ages. They had room in their hearts for an ever-growing family. Francis had already established her place in this unborn baby’s life, and Andrew and Marco couldn’t be happier about it.

John and Stacy couldn’t really be used in a sibling-measuring contest either. They lost their parents young, and they co-parented their much younger brother, until tragedy took his life and turned their world upside down. That kind of bond went beyond typical brother and sister, so she couldn’t really compare herself and Jan to them, or they would always come up short.

Gus choked down her lingering guilt concerning her sister and decided to answer John’s question before everyone wondered what her problem was.

“I’m doing good John, thanks.” As predicted, John rescinded his touch, removing his hands from her arms and shoving them in his pockets. Gus wrapped her arms around herself in an act of comfort, but also in an attempt to not draw attention to the condition she was positive cost her a chance at happiness with him.

It seemed as if John had something more to say, but the rest of the Testosterone Gang, as Stacy called them, swooped in with kisses and greetings.

Walker always rubbed her belly when he said hello. Since it was his wife’s egg that made the baby for her gay ex-husband, Andrew, she figured he had the right. When Gus thought about it, it was a unique situation, especially with her being the baby oven, but it made perfect sense to everyone in this “family,” except maybe John.

Erika had always planned to help Andrew have his baby someday, but no one could have foreseen the accident that would hinder her ability to carry it for him. That was where Gus came in; she was just the womb in this equation.

Walker threw her a questioning look when his belly rub bunched the robe she was wearing under his hand. Gus gave him an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Please, dear God, don’t let him ask why I am layered like a parfait.Ohh, parfait.

Gus breathed a sigh of relieve when Walker nodded in understanding of some sort, at least to the point of not calling her out in front of practically everyone.

“How are you? Taking your vitamins? Moderating caffeine? Get—”

“Yes, Mom, geez. You are worse than Marco, and that’s saying something. He’s redefining my definition of helicopter mom.” Walker had the sense to look cowed. Of course, Gus knew he wasn’t; he was just smart enough to fake it.

Walker threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just the messenger, you know Erika will attack me with a million questions when I hit the door. How does she really look? Were her ankles swollen? Does she have bags under her eyes? Is she taking her vitamins? And you know if I don’t have the answers, she’ll have my nuts in a vise.”

The laugh that bubbled up from Gus took her by surprise. It was true. Erika was intense, to say the least. There were lists all over the house to prove the point. She had made Gus a list for everything, practically scheduling her bathroom trips for optimum efficiency during pregnancy.

“Well, you can report back to the List Dictator of the Florida Panhandle that I look marvelous. And make sure you say it just like that, in that Billy Crystal voice, too. My ankles are slightly swollen, but not to the point they indicate any medical issue other than what we are already aware of. Remind her I have always had bags under my eyes. I take my vitamins according to the list she made me, which is still attached to the refrigerator with a pizza magnet, exactly where she left it. Oh, and I have dropped caffeine completely and plan to continue for three months or so post-partum when I can hopefully pump enough milk from my udders to feed this Wellington/Ramirez child for months.”

The humor in her voice cut the tension that had somehow managed to build to an almost suffocating level. That was typical whenever she and John were in the same room. It always created tension; it just shifted from sexual to strained since the pregnancy announcement.

After sending the guys to the den to rearrange her gym equipment that didn’t need to be rearranged, she turned her attention to Stacy. Crossing her arms and resting them on the top of her belly, Gus asked her friend the question she needed answered, “And how, pray tell, is any of this helping me achieve my ultimate goal. Go ahead, Miss Know-It-All, enlighten me with your wisdom.”

Stacy launched herself at Gus, wrapping her in a fierce hug. “Woohoo, way to grow a pair, Pixie. I can see I’m rubbing off on you. You almost said fuck, I can feel it, it’s only a matter of time.”

Rolling her eyes, but smiling too, Gus embraced her friend with equal enthusiasm.

“You rubbing off on me? I beg to differ, counselor; you hugged me; that is huge. No prompting, no obligated return embrace, just you, all you, in the moment. You threw yourself into my arms because you wanted to. Admit it, it’s the other way around.” Stacy disengaged, went to the refrigerator, and grabbed the OJ, then poured them each a glass.

“Okay, fine, there is mutual rubbing. Ooo, Pixie, that sounds deliciously dirty.” When Gus didn’t blush as she would’ve before meeting Stacy, she realized her mistake before she pointed it out.

Raising her glass in a toast, Stacy continued, “See, mutual rubbing, resulting in reciprocal transference. Happy?” Stacy swigged her juice and indicated Gus should do the same. When the glass remained untouched, Stacy looked confused.

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