Page 80 of The Jackpot Screwer
I shrugged. “Kind of, it’s not the wedding, you know that’s not what I’m into. I’m scared that we’ve jumped the important parts and maybe you’re only with me for the baby. I’ll never know whether you wanted to be with me for me.”
Carter chuckled softly and caressed my cheek. “Don’t ever think for one moment that I only want you because you’re providing me with a child. That is absolutely not the truth. You are the fucking love of my life and okay, so we’ve moved ahead a little quick, but we’re about to enter the most awesome phase of our lives.” His lips brushed against mine and I felt tears prick at my lashes. “When I ask you to marry me, it’ll be when I know beyond doubt, that you know beyond doubt that I love you more than anything else. When all the crazy hormones have gone, you’ll realize your absolute fucking worth, Lollipop. Okay?”
With a single tear rolling down my cheek, I nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. Now, you ready for your breakfast?”
“Okay, but I think I’d better call Ellie and apologize first.”
Carter waved me away. “Nah, don’t fuss it. Hunt’s ruined my year, we just spoiled one damn night for him.”
“How’s he ruined your year?” I asked, brushing his hair from his eyes.
“Marrying my sister. Totally broke the best friend code.”
“Like you were ever protective of Ellie,” I scoffed.
“God no, it just means now I’m going to have to spend more time with her than ever before. You have any idea how fucking shit that thought is?” He stood and gave me a brief kiss. “Okay, now come on, breakfast is ready.”
With a cocky grin, he turned to leave and as I watched his ass, I knew I was the luckiest woman alive.
We had only six more weeks to go before our lives changed forever. Then baby Maples would arrive. Whether that was a boy or a girl, who knew or cared. I was just about ready to pee myself with the excitement of it all.
Things had been good between me and Bronte in the weeks since she’d freaked out about us not being engaged. Amazing in fact. We were finally free and clear of any insecurities and pretty much ready to become parents.
The shopping trip for the stroller had been something of an experience. Surely a stroller is a stroller? Apparently not. Bronte took almost two fucking hours to decide on something that wasn’t too gender specific, too low, too high or too difficult to get into the trunk of her stupid tiny car. It even had to… well, stroll a certain way. I thought she’d decided on one but then the wheels didn’t quite turn as she wanted them to. Wheels are wheels, right?
Apart from the stroller, which was at her mom and dad’s house, because apparently it was bad luck to have it at our apartment, everything else was ready. All we had to do was relax for the next month and a half. So, we were having our folks over for dinner, because there’s nothing more relaxing than organizing that.
“Hey, Lollipop,” I called. “You want something to drink?”
She popped her head around our bedroom door. “No thank you. But can you come fasten me up though. I can’t reach the zipper.”
“Who puts zippers in pregnancy wear?” I replied as I moved down the hall toward her.
“Probably a male designer who’s never been pregnant,” she complained sulkily.
“So, I kind of have to ask why the hell you bought it?” I followed her into the bedroom and died inside. The room looked like a bunch of toddlers had been in there playing dress-up. There were clothes everywhere, on the bed, on the floor and on the dresser. “Couldn’t decide what to wear, hey?”
“I’ll clean it all up, I promise. I just couldn’t find anything I didn’t look fat in.”
“You don’t look fat,” I said, dropping a kiss to the back of her neck as I slowly pulled the zipper up. “You look beautiful.”
Bronte sighed contentedly and took my hand, putting it onto her stomach. “I love you for saying it, but I’m seriously fat.”
We stood like that for a few seconds, embracing in the silence, when it was broken by Bronte hissing and grabbing my hand tightly over the baby.
“Ah shit.” Her fingers clenched mine to the point of pain.
“You okay?” I turned her around to face me. “What’s wrong?”
With her eyes closed, Bronte shook her head. “No, I’m fine. It just took me by surprise. I think it was those Braxton Hicks they told us about at the childbirth class.
Blue eyes flicked open and stared at me. There was a hint of tears and I was more than a little worried that Bronte was brushing things off too easily.
“Lollipop, you think we need to call Dr. Baskin?”
She shook her head and loosened her hold on me. “Nope, it’s gone now.”
