Page 55 of Press Your Luck

I wasn’t sure what to say to that since guilt at my own secret washed over me.

“But Porter, he’s a handful, and poor Pierce is struggling with him. It doesn’t sound like the mother is much help either.”

“That’s too bad.” I plastered on a smile and nodded at Ruby. "Let's save that cake, then.”

Ruby pulled out the cake, and we brought it out to the party. But all the while, my mind was going crazy with thoughts. How would Pierce react to the news of another unplanned child? Would he welcome our baby with open arms or turn away, unable to handle the responsibility? With his focus on his son, would he have the time to give our child?

"Earth to Naomi." Ruby's voice snapped me back to reality.

“Oh, sorry.” I helped her cut pieces of the cake and serve them. Pierce was the last to step up to the table. By then, everyone, including Ruby, had dispersed.

"Hey.” He almost seemed nervous.

"Hey.” I tried to sound casual despite the butterflies in my stomach. I couldn’t look at him and not want to drown in his crystal blue eyes or be held in his strong arms. I wanted him more than ever.

"Great party, huh?"

"Definitely.” Small talk was excruciating. So was my effort to not reach out and touch him. "Ruby and Bo really know how to throw a bash." I was withering under the guilt and yearning. “I need to grab another drink. Excuse me."

"Sure thing.” The disappointment filled his features, and I hated myself for always doing things that I was sure he felt as rejection.

I hurried over to the punch bowl, and my hand shook as I poured the fruity concoction into my cup.

Just then, a young boy, Porter, came barreling over, bumping my arm and causing me to spill punch all over the table.

"Oops." Porter laughed, clearly amused by my misfortune.

"Here.” I grabbed a stack of napkins and handed them to him. "Clean this up."

"Me?" He looked shocked but also defiant, reminding me of my younger brothers when they'd been caught doing something they shouldn't. "Why should I?"

"Because you caused the mess.”

“It was your drink.”

“Because you bumped me.” I stared down at him, hoping he could see that I wasn’t asking and there was no room for argument.

He looked around, and I got the feeling he was going to bolt. I shifted, blocking his escape, and raised an expectant eyebrow.

Porter frowned but begrudgingly took the napkins, muttering under his breath as he began to mop up the spilled punch. I wondered if he was like this all the time, and if so, Pierce had his hands full. Too full to make room for another child?

"I'll help you if you ask me nicely." I didn't want him to think that I was being too harsh.

He glared at me. "Why am I even cleaning this up if you're willing to do it?"

"Because it's not my responsibility. But I'm willing to help because accidents happen. We just need to take care of them."

Porter stared at me for a moment. "I don't need any help." He finished cleaning up the spilled punch and shoved the stack of wet napkins into my hands before storming off.

I sighed, watching him weave through the crowd of party guests. Turning to toss the napkins in the trash, I caught sight of Pierce standing in the doorway, his blue eyes trained on me. A flurry of emotions washed over me—guilt, desire, and a desperate longing for things to be different. I forced myself to meet his gaze.

“I saw what happened with Porter. Thanks for handling that."

"Of course.”

Pierce nodded and hesitated before asking, "How did you get him to listen to you?"

“I'm used to dealing with rambunctious kids. My brothers were a handful growing up."

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