Page 23 of A Labor of Hate
That extra tidbit caught his attention, blessedly distracting him from his line of questioning.He shot me a curious look as he maneuvered into a parking space.“Why those names, exactly?”
I shrugged like it was obvious.“Because one sounds like ‘tummy’ and the other sounds like ‘belly.’Seeing as how there isn’t a real baby in here, I didn’t want to get too attached.”
As if that would be a concern for me, anyway.I’d decided years ago I wouldn’t have kids.I couldn’t do that to my future partner and myself, and I’d do well to remember that resolve.
He hummed noncommittally.
Before he could slip back into interrogation-slash-obsessing mode, I asked, “What wouldyouname it?”
“James for a boy, Carissa for a girl.”
I paused with one foot out of the car.Huh.He didn’t even have to think about it.I knew girls often picked out the names of their future kids, especially when fantasizing about their future spouse, but I’dnevermet a man who’d given it a second thought.As far as I knew, men didn’t consider anything like that until the baby was on its way.
I shouldn’t be surprised, though.Not really.This wasColt.He was as far from a typical male as I’d ever seen.Everything had to be perfect for him, so why wouldn’t that include coming up with baby names?He’d probably thought through every possible question Gauthier and his wife Vivienne could ask us, too.
I didn’t realize I hadn’t moved until Colt appeared on the other side of my open door.“What?Were the names that bad?”
I shook my head, mentally nailing my game face into place.I couldn’t let anything faze me.Especially not Colt, and especially not now when so much depended on us.“No.If anything, I couldn’t believe you’d come up with some so…normal.”
He rolled his eyes, the breeze ruffling his perfect hair.“Your regard for others continues to astound me, Lex.”
“Not others,” I corrected, placing a condescending pat on his chest as I hopped out of the car.“Just you.”
This earned me another eye roll and a consequent surge of satisfaction.At least he wasn’t grilling me about the minutiae of our covers anymore.Whatever it took to get him out of his head, I’d do it.And if messing with him happened to be it, all the more fun for me.Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Since we were inhumanely early at Colt’s insistence, we sat in the hospital lobby.At least we’d be able to see Gauthier coming when he arrived.That was the only upside I could find to being forced to spend one-on-one time in public where I had to disguise my dislike for my so-called husband.
He leaned closer to me, speaking low enough not to be overheard by the handful of others in the surrounding chairs.“How much do you know about Lamaze and pregnancy, exactly?”
“I took health class in high school.”At his disgusted sigh, I ground my teeth together.“That’s why this is aclass, Colt.So we canlearn.”
Sure, I’d looked up the do’s and don’ts of pregnancy so I wouldn’t get caught sipping a piña colada or eating sushi, but the finer points of Lamaze hadn’t been a priority, seeing as how I was supposed to be a student.
He muttered something under his breath, looking to the ceiling like it could gift him patience for having to deal with my infinite stupidity.
Would glaring at him draw too much attention?Even if he deserved it?
Instead, I settled on gripping his hand—hard.My smile might have been a touch shark-like, but he had it coming.“You have something you want to share with me,honey?”
He didn’t seem the least bit fazed by my grip, the corners of his mouth tipping up into his “patience” smile.“I only hope your lack of preparation doesn’t ruin this, newbie.”
Newbie, really?This again?Newsflash: I still hated it.Oh, how I hated it.And everything about him.The way his gym shorts and athletic tee hugged his deceptively athletic physique.The way the wind had ruffled his hair so he no longer resembled the uptight butthead he really was.The way he could look like an entirely different person with a simple wardrobe change—no fake belly necessary.The way he caught every female in the lobby’s attention.
If only they knew him like I did.Their infatuation would diesofast.
But this more casual apparel, it was a good look on him.Areallygood one.When he stretched to a more comfortable position in his chair, the shirt stretched with him and showcased some of the muscle he had unfairly hidden under starched shirts for so long.Couple that with the dark depths of his eyes like roasting nutmeg, and I could see why all the women around me were watching him.Even I almost forgot how much I hated him.Until he opened his mouth.Or breathed.
But, seeing as how he couldn’t stop breathing without severely complicating our assignment, the reminder was alive and well.And our hands were still connected so—try as I might—I couldn’t get his aggravating, nobody-should-look-that-good-in-a-T-shirt self out of my head.
Let the record show that, against all odds, I actually wanted his ironed get-up back.Sort of.I wanted it back in the way that you want to be the kind of person who craves an apple for a snack, but you’re already three scoops deep into Triple Ripple ice cream.
Not that I was speaking from experience or anything.
I saw the bodyguards before I saw Gauthier.Of the five, one scanned his surroundings with a practiced eye, while the rest grouped around Gauthier.If I were a betting woman—which I was, but Colt certainly wasn’t a betting man—then I’d bet the beefy giant casing the place was the hired bodyguard, while the other four were the ones on loan from the various movers and shakers of the criminal underworld: mob, gangs, Triad, you name it.Considering Gauthier had his scheming chemical genius hands in each of their pies, it made sense.He got protection, and they got to ensure fair commerce on their product.Win-win.
Next to Gauthier, I could only make out a flash of blonde hair near his shoulder.Virtually everyone in the lobby stared at the incoming entourage, so I didn’t even try to be discreet at first.I mean, who besides celebrities went anywhere with five bodyguards?Even for celebrities, I’d bet five was overkill.
And yet, they were the reason Colt and I were here.Like this.Fake-married and fake-pregnant.
