Page 54 of The Jackpot Screwer
Stepping into the wide hallway, I put Mani down on the floor and watched as he skidded on the tiles, desperate to get to Bronte. The little guy had taste; I’d give him that. She bent to pick him up and gave me a quick flash of cleavage, surprising me at how full and big her boobs were.
“Shit, Lollipop,” I groaned. “You want me to bust my pants.”
Straightening up with Mani in her arms, she narrowed her eyes at me. “You shouldn’t be looking.”
“Yeah, and like that will happen. That’s like asking a kid not to eat just ice cream at an all you can eat buffet.”
“My titties are not part of a buffet, thank you very much.”
I tilted my head to one side and laid my eyes firmly on them. “At my imaginary buffet they are. In fact,” I said with a sigh, “I think they’d probably be my death row meal.”
She rolled her eyes, but I didn’t miss the slight smile that stretched her pretty pink lips. A tiny movement but even so, it gave me hope that maybe I was back in the race.
“Apart from bringing Mani to see me, and caring about the baby,” Bronte said as she moved down the hallway. “What is it that brought you around? Because I know you, Carter Maples. There’s something else.”
Putting Mani on the floor next to a basket of dog toys, she looked over her shoulder at me and grinned. “I couldn’t resist getting them for when he visited.”
Her words made my chest clinch. I didn’t want him visiting. I wanted him living with me; me, Lollipop and the baby. I got that she was being cautious, but I didn’t understand how she still didn’t trust my word that she and the baby were what I wanted.
“He certainly looks happy.” I nodded to where Mani was playing, pushing away the words I really wanted to say.
We both watched our boy for a few seconds, loving smiles on both our faces, until Bronte took a seat on the sofa and I plonked down next to her.
“Okay, spill it.”
I reached inside my jacket pocket and pulled out my list. “I got these things and wanted you to know, so that way you didn’t buy them too.”
I passed the paper to her and watched as she read through everything.
“Carter, this must have cost you a fortune. You didn’t need to get all of this.” Her mouth dropped open into a perfect o as she looked up at me. “That’s so generous but I figured we could just get a travel crib for your apartment. It’d be much simpler than you having to set up a nursery.”
I breathed out slowly, trying hard to hold onto my temper. It was about time she realized this wasn’t a part-time gig for me. We were having a baby together—a phrase with no truer meaning.
“We are having a baby,” I replied, my tone low. “The key word being ‘we’. That means us, together, which also means we are not doing this separately. I don’t care whether it takes you until the moment that you’re pushing him or her out, but you will realize that we are a family. One way or another, Lollipop, when you leave the hospital with that baby it will be to come home to our apartment. An apartment that will have a cute little nursery for our child. You get me?”
Inhaling slowly, she watched me carefully, her eyes staring into mine, reading the truth in them. I held my breath, the words of reasoning already formed in my head for when she denied me. Surprising me though, her blue and purple waves bobbed as she nodded once and then twice.
“Prove yourself to me and it’s a deal,” she whispered, her pointy little chin wobbling slightly.
I wanted to throw my arms in the air and scream that I’d surely done enough to damn well prove how much I wanted her and the baby. However, I’d learned enough over the past few weeks to know that wasn’t the way to deal with a hormonal Bronte.
“I will.” Smiling, I expected her to at least give me one back. Instead, she burst into tears with a loud howl that shocked Mani into dropping his rubber chicken.
“Hey,” I soothed, pulling her against me. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she sobbed against my shoulder. “I just want to cry.”
“That’s okay, honey. You just cry.”
“But you don’t know what it’s like.” She pushed me away from her and I caught sight of one of the weirdest, crying faces that I’d ever seen. God, I loved that woman more than anything, but shit she was an ugly crier.
“I have fat ankles, my back hurts, all I want to eat are canned peaches and licorice and I’ve never felt so horny in all my damn life.” Another howl left her mouth and as it did, I was a little bothered to see a snot bubble.
Reaching inside my pocket I pulled out a napkin. Admittedly it was a little dirty as I’d used it to wipe tuna mayo from around my mouth, but if I folded that part over, she’d be good to go.
Not seeing, or caring, Bronte snatched it from my hand and proceeded to blow her nose on it.
“You got me into this mess,” she whimpered and gave another blow and a wipe. “And why can I smell fish?”
