Page 3 of Restless
“A new computer?”
Joe winced. “I’m still saving for the one you want, babe.”
“You should let me get a job—”
“I’m not stopping you, sweetheart. But I want to spoil you. I want to provide all your needs and give you the life you should’ve had growing up.”
“Oh, Joe. Once Cee Cee got me away from our parents, my life wasn’t particularly bad. I missed him so much, though.”
She’d never known the exact story. She’d been a toddler and he’d been quite young, too. The sheet of paper with his name, birthdate, and last known address had survived shuffling between strangers after a hospital stay.
Sometimes, Kimber wondered if she imagined the name-calling and the pain that lived in her memory and haunted her dreams.
“I’m going to be a father,” Joe said in wonder. “Cee Cee will be an uncle and Bash will be a cousin.”
Kimber grinned. “You haven’t seen either of them in over a year.” They’d had a falling out, although she wasn’t sure over what, but she suspected it had something to do with the Donovan girls. “Does it matter what they will be?”
“Not really. I do wonder about Donovan’s grandsons sometimes. The older one is about fourteen or fifteen months now, so the other one would be eight or nine months.”
“Cee Cee is such a fucking asshole,” she grumbled. “He doesn’t think our twisted fucking family tree isn’t complicated enough. He knocked up two sisters, so his sons are brothers and cousins.”
“I know, babe. We aren’t helping matters, Kimber.”
“We aren’t related, Joe. Shocking, I know, considering we seem to pull motherfuckers out of crayon boxes to make up our family tree.”
He sniggered. “This is a clean slate for us, sweetheart,” he said, sobering up and caressing her ass. “A new beginning. No more twisted family trees. I’ll take more hours at the shop. Maybe, repair cars in my free time. Fuck Logan. I’ll make it work. One day, I’ll own my own repair shops. Just wait. You’ll see. You’ll be a lady of leisure when you’re not writing. Our daughters will be spoiled little princesses, and our sons will one day rule the world.”
Kimber smiled.
“Let’s get married,” he said suddenly. “We love each other. You’re having my baby. Let’s—”
“Absolutely not, Joe,” Kimber said, so happy she could burst. “I want a big wedding. Maybe, not as big as Vivian’s will be, but one to remember. Let’s get engaged and six months after I give birth, we marry.”
“Anything you want, sweetheart, as long as you agree to be my wife.”
“I want nothing more than to have your name,” she said dreamily as someone knocked on the door.
He patted her hip. “Your surprise.”
Unable to contain her curiosity, Kimber scrambled off Joe’s lap. When he stood, he pulled her to her feet and guided her to the door. Before he opened it, he placed himself in front of her. “Don’t peek over my shoulder.”
“I won’t,” she promised, trying and failing to think of what she was in store for.
“Hey, Joe.” The sound of K-P’s voice disappointed Kimber. “It was a long fucking flight.”
“Are you okay, sweetheart? K-P’s ugly mug didn’t frighten you?”
Childish laughter greeted Kimber, and her heart rate sped up.
“Noooo,” the little voice said.
Kimber gasped. “Celia?” she whispered, forgetting her promise, stepping next to Joe and gazing down at her niece.
“Aunt Kimmie!”
Kimber knelt just as Celia launched her tiny body into her arms. Kimber thought she couldn’t have loved Joe any more than she already did.
She was wrong.
