Page 50 of Made for Us

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

TRISTAN

I look out the plane window for a second before turning and looking over at Abigail. “Did you tell your dad anything?” I ask, the nerves in my body are on a whole different level.

“I spoke with my mother today,” she says, looking at me, “and she knows I’m coming down, but I’m going to call my dad when we arrive so he isn’t freaking out with worry.”

“You told your mom?” I can’t stop my fingers from tapping the airplane seat. From the minute I walked out of the arena, I’ve been on an adrenaline rush. The first person I called was the airplane scheduler, and they gave me a window of forty-five minutes. I rushed home to change into an outfit that said,” I’m the father of the baby and will take good care of him,” but all I could focus on was the linen shirt I wore when we slept together. So I put on my dark-blue pants with the shirt. The second call was to Abigail, who was already ready for me to collect her. She was wearing a one-piece baby-blue dress that showed off her baby bump with white sneakers. She looked absolutely stunning, and when she got in the car, I awkwardly leaned over and kissed her cheek. Her smell sent me in a downward spiral, and I had to calm my cock down the whole way to the airport. “You told your mom I was coming with you?”

“That, I did not,” she says, grabbing a piece of strawberry from the fruit tray they put in the middle of the table between us. “I just said I was coming by to talk to them.”

“She didn’t ask any questions?” I really wish I could kiss the shit out of her.

“She did, and I told her I was coming to tell her something.” She smirks. “She put two and two together, but she doesn’t know you are the dad.”

“On a scale of one to five, how shocked do you think your parents will be?” I ask, grabbing the glass of sparkling water Abigail ordered for me while I was in the bathroom.

“One hundred and fifty-seven.” She laughs, and it hits me right in the chest.

“Good to know,” I reply, looking back out the window and seeing we are almost there. The flight attendant comes and takes away the fruit and the water. The plane touches down with a jolt, and I see the black SUV waiting for us. I get up and hold out my hand for Abigail. She slides her hand into mine, grabbing her bag on the way out. The cool air hits me right away. “This is nice,” I state, looking around and seeing her pull a jean jacket from her bag. She struggles to put it on, so I take it out of her hand and help her into it.

“Thank you,” she says as she pulls the hair out of the back of the jacket. The man is standing there holding the back SUV door open, waiting for Abigail to enter. I watch her get in, and then, instead of sitting there, she scoots over so I can get in next to her. I nod to the driver as I get in beside her. She is fishing her phone out of her bag by the time the guy closes my door.

“Here we go,” she mumbles as she presses the dial button, putting the phone to her ear. The driver gets in the front seat at the same time Abigail starts to talk. “Hey, Dad,” she greets him, and I can hear Justin calling her beautiful girl. “I was wondering if I could pop in and have dinner with you?” I can hear him shriek, and I laugh. “Yeah, I have something to tell you and figured it should be done face-to-face.” She rolls her lips and looks over at me. “No, it’s not worse than me being pregnant and alone.” I shake my head, hating she was alone. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She hangs up. “Well, this is going to be fun.”

“For you.” I shake my head. “I’m the one who left you pregnant and alone.”

She reaches out and puts her hand on mine. “That is my fault, and I’ll bear that.” I turn my hand over to link our fingers together.

“There are a lot of things I think we should get on the table,” I tell her as we make our way to her parents’ house. This is not the time to bring up that I want her to move in with us. This is also not the time to tell her I’m in love with her.

The SUV comes to a stop in front of the big house, and I don’t have time to look outside before the door is opened by the driver. “Thank you,” I say, getting out and again holding out my hand for her. She slips her hand in mine as she gets out, and this time, she keeps it in mine.

“Whatever happens,” she starts to say, “it’ll be okay.” I’m about to say something to her when the front door swings open, and I see her mother there.

“Oh my,” she says, putting her hand to her mouth when her eyes go to Abigail and then to me, followed by her looking at our hands together. “Hi,” she greets us with a smile on her face, trying not to be shocked but failing miserably.

“Hi, Mom,” Abigail replies as she lets go of my hand and hugs her mom. “So good to see you.”

“Hello, Caroline,” I say, walking to her and kissing her cheek like I always do when I see her.

“Your father is in the family room trying not to freak out,” Caroline shares, moving away from the doorway to let us walk in. “I think the phone call to give him a heads-up was not the best plan we had.”

“Is she here?” I hear Justin say from somewhere in the house, his footsteps coming closer and closer to us. My stomach literally feels like it’s on fire when I finally see him round the corner. “She is here,” he says, smiling at her and then looking at me. “Did you give her a ride?”

“Sort of,” I reply, my mouth suddenly so dry it feels like my tongue is fifty times bigger than it should be.

“Come and sit,” Caroline invites nervously, knowing her husband has not put two and two together yet. I take a step forward, and the front door swings open. “Here we go,” she mumbles as I look over my shoulder to see Max and Matthew saunter in. “What are you guys doing here?”

“There is a family meeting,” Matthew explains, looking at her. “Justin called me.”

“And you?” She points at Max.

“I was with him, so I decided to tag along.” Max shrugs. “Why, am I not invited?” He puts his hand on his chest and pretends to be hurt.

“Listen, you two,” Caroline warns, her voice tight. “I want no dramatics when my daughter talks, do you get me?” Her voice is stern.

“Dramatics?” Matthew defends. “We aren’t dramatic.” I roll my lips to keep from laughing out loud.

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