The Bad Boys

by Sosie Frost

  When we said we couldn’t wait for grandchildren, we didn’t mean now.

  The thing about a secret baby? The news was old to me…but not to anyone else. I’d known about the little nugget for months, but no one else had learned until the wedding.

  Including my family.

  And definitely the daddy-to-be…who happened to be thrilled, and even more excited that I agreed to move into his apartment.

  Now we had five months to prepare until the baby, and five months to prepare everyone else for the little guy’s arrival.

  Fortunately, after the nightmare that was planning Lindsey’s wedding, anything that didn’t involve flowers, shoes, dresses, musicians, or bitten strippers was a welcomed change. I’d feared for the worst, but at least my family was now as excited as me about the pregnancy—indecent as it was.

  “Mandy, look what I have!” Lindsey burst into Nate’s apartment bearing a white box and a proud smile. “I had it made specially for you!”

  She set the cake box on Nate’s kitchen counter.

  Coconut?

  Seriously?

  I bolted before the tropical stench of the unholy dessert wafted its way from the kitchen.

  Fortunately, the second trimester was a lot kinder on my tummy, but I still exercised an overabundance of caution. I had nothing to ward off the coconut, and, for a preacher’s kid, Nate possessed surprisingly few religious relics. So I forged a rudimentary crucifix out of the hair brushes I’d packed in the suitcase heading for my vanity and aimed it at the cake.

  “Keep it away from me,” I ordered.

  “I’m on it!” Nate came to my rescue.

  He grinned—that perfect playfulness that was now mine and mine alone. Every night he teased me to sleep with it, and every morning I fell more madly in love with him.

  Nate dropped a box of shoes in the bedroom and picked his way through the cluttered living room. He brandished a fork left over from breakfast, wiped it on his jeans, then dug into the cake.

  We…still had some things to work on.

  Nate held up the box so I could read what Lindsey had scrawled in pink and blue icing.

  Congrats! You Had A Baby Before Me!

  “That’s real sweet, Linds,” Nate said. “Not sure how you did it, but somehow you made the cake all about you. That’s a talent…and probably a mental health issue.”

  Lindsey crossed her arms. “It’s a joke, Nate. God. This is the thanks I get for offering to host a baby shower?”

  I frowned. “You didn’t want to throw a formal baby shower after the stripper banned you for life.”

  “Yeah, well, he refused to wear a diaper for the party anyway.”

  Nate made a face. “What kind of baby shower has a stripper?”

  “Like the women who’d RSVP wouldn’t know where babies come from,” Lindsey scoffed.

  “Not…from a grown man dancing in Huggies.”

  “It’s for his show.” Lindsey pointed at me. “Besides, you two will use cloth diapers.”

  Nate glanced at me. “They come in cloth?”

  I had only just explained how long a baby would be in diapers to Nate. I didn’t need any more confusion—not when he still mixed-up the terms uterus, ovary, and placenta.

  Nothing ruined a sensual and sexy night more than a discussion of a woman’s mucus plug.

  “We have a lot of time before we worry about diapers and all that,” I said.

  “No, you don’t!” Lindsey counted the potential crises on her fingers. “You have to decide if you’re breast feeding. You need to get cloth diapers. You have yet to find a midwife. You haven’t even prepared a kit to preserve the placenta. Good Lord, Mandy. You haven’t scheduled a gender reveal party! Not to mention childproofing this death trap, painting, buying furniture, finding a pediatrician, getting a preschool. What about college?”

  Every word she spoke tightened my chest. I groped for the wall to support me.

  “Jesus, Linds,” Nate said. “If a cat can have kittens in a fucking shoe box, I think we’ll be okay. Here.” He rooted through his pockets and tossed a ten-dollar bill onto the coffee table. “I started a college fund for the little guy. We’ll be good. And…Mandy will be breastfeeding.”

  I hugged my arms over my chest. “Wait, what?”

  “You’ll be fine,” Lindsey said. “You’re so young, it won’t sag you at all. It’s good for the baby. You know, Mom breastfed you until you were almost three.”

  That explained so much. “Okay, can we just get me moved into Nate’s apartment? We’ll discuss my breasts later.”

  “We should order you some special tea,” Lindsey said. “Oh, and the breast pumps! They’re electric now.”

  “As opposed to what? Diesel?”

  Lindsey pulled out her phone. “I’ll add it to the list! Aren’t you glad you have a big sister helping you? By the time the baby comes, you’ll be plump as a cow and overflowing—”

  “Yes, thank you!” I interrupted her before I imagine just what would be overflowing. “You’re a Godsend.”

  Lindsey hugged me. “You did so good on my wedding, I want to return the favor. I’m not going to leave your side until the baby comes. In fact, Nate should just give me a spare bedroom because Aunt Lindsey is going to be all over that little widdle baby waby.”

  Lindsey rubbed my tummy. I stared at Nate, mouthing for help. The fiend only grinned and snuck another bite of the cake.

  My sister waited, expectantly, guilting Nate into dropping his dessert. He found one of the three forks he kept in his apartment and handed it to my sister. Her nose crinkled, and he sighed, rubbing it clean on his jeans.

  Lindsey changed her mind on the cake.

  I took a breath. At least Nate’s bar below was tidy.

  We had a lot of work to do.

  The apartment wasn’t big…but how much room could a baby possibly need? Sure, they were six pounds and a couple ounces of trouble when they popped out, but at least they’d fit into most spaces. Nate seemed pretty confident about a shoebox, but I knew where he hid the receipt for the gift he bought me.

  The most beautiful crib in the baby store.

  The one I wept over when we came across it.

  Delivery was next week, and that man still kept it a secret. I’d have to pretend to be surprised, but I was crying over anything from shoelaces to dog food commercials. At least I’d be convincing.

  At least we already cleared Nate’s spare bedroom…his legit bachelor pad. What had once been a catchall for bottles, extra brewing equipment, pallets of Arizona Iced Tea, canned chili, and tool kits morphed into a nursery, already packed with gifted stuffed animals and onesies.

  I hoped the baby would like cream walls. Painting had been a no-go since we opened the can of obscenely smelling canary yellow paint. What came out of me was anything but the sunshine gold we planned for the trim.

  Nate abandoned the cake as the front door opened again. Bryce and Rick huffed, puffed, and sweated as they carried a load of my things from the street. A lamp and TV nearly clattered to the ground, and Rick swore as he dropped a box of books onto his toe.

  Rick rubbed his foot and grumbled. “How much stuff do you have?”

  I shrugged. “I…accumulate.”

  “She hoards,” Lindsey said. She whispered to Bryce. “It’s a problem.”

  “I do not hoard! If anyone hoards, it’s you, pack rat.”

  “Pack rat?” Lindsey’s hands settled on her hips. “What’s in the box, bubblebutt?”

  I kicked the box that crushed Rick’s foot. “Those are books.”

  “Buy a Kindle.” Rick scowled. I kicked him instead. “We still have half the truck to unload. This might cost you another pizza.”

  I bit my lip. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather get Chinese?”

  “Chinese?”

  I rubbed my belly. “Or hoagies. Oh! How about spaghetti?”

  Bryce shrugged. “I just want something to eat. How the hell did you fit all this stuff in a studio apar
tment?”

  “Skill,” I said. “But seriously…what are we eating?”

  Rick cleared his throat. “Tell you what. It doesn’t take a doctor to know you’re going to change your mind on your cravings sixteen times before we’re done moving you in, and even then you’ll think you’ll want a little bit of everything smooshed together.” He winked at me. “We’ll pick a food once we’re done.”

  It was sweet and irritating and agonizing all at the same time.

  My lower lip trembled. “I don’t think I want anything with cheese on it.”

  Lindsey crossed her arms. “Yeah, Rick. My little sister will have whatever she wants, when she wants, and no one is going to give her shit for it. Is that clear?”

  A horrible vision of the future passed before my eyes.

  For years, I worried that I would slowly age, gain fifty pounds, and turn into my mother. Instead, I suffered a couple hormonal changes and suddenly I sounded a lot like…

  Lindsey.

  Oh sweet baby Jesus, no.

  “Pizza’s fine!” I forced a chipper tone. “Absolutely fine. No problem with pizza, especially if everyone wants it. We’ll get these last few boxes inside and—”

  Yelling erupted from downstairs.

  Windows rattled. Dogs howled.

  They were coming.

  “—Because you were never at the house, Conrad! You were always working!”

  “Because someone had to pay for that house, Sandra!”

  Everyone collectively tensed. My parents no longer had the wedding to blame for their bickering, and so they focused on the next crisis in their endless battles.

  Me.

  Mom and Dad stomped into Nate’s apartment. They carried identically sized packages, gift wrapped with bows. Mom scowled and pointed at me.

  “And now look what happened without a good male role-model around the house!” She tisked her tongue. “Babies having babies!”

  I sighed. “Um, this isn’t Dad’s fault.”

  Dad stared only at Nate. “No. It isn’t.”

  Another moment of tension, and everyone’s butts squeezed a little tighter.

  “Don’t you blame the boy.” Mom poked a finger into Dad’s chest. “Don’t you dare, not when you were after the same damn thing when you were his age.”

  Dad surrendered. “We aren’t blaming anyone. These things happen, and we’re all being supportive.”

  “That’s not what you told me twenty-nine years ago.” Mom hooted. “You sure changed your tune. I remember one visit from the stork that had you running for the hills.”

  Lindsey crossed her arms. “I don’t know that story.”

  Mom patted her cheek. “Of course you don’t, Sweetie. You were our happy little accident.”

  “Accident!”

  Mom didn’t answer. She pulled me to the couch and set a huge, heavy box in my lap. I steadied the present, wrapped in gaudy blue and pink paper.

  “I couldn’t help myself.” Mom yanked the present away before I could open it. She handed me the card. “From Grandma.”

  “Wait, wait, wait.” Dad pointed at the box. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Mom hmphed. “And if it is?”

  Dad shook the gift he brought up the stairs, as large and cumbersome as the present waiting at my feet. He wrapped his in silver paper and scrawled in black sharpie From Pop-Pop over the top.

  “I thought we were going to coordinate,” Dad said.

  “Don’t you dare tell me not to buy my own grandbaby a present!”

  “I didn’t say that, but, Sandra, these kids will need help. We have to organize what we buy for them.”

  I unwrapped both.

  Two identical car seats.

  Nate shrugged, and I knew what he planned. One for each of our cars.

  I braved the skirmish before it turned into a war. “Hey guys, thank you both—”

  “This is just like you!” Mom shouted. “Always wanting to play the hero!”

  Lindsey, Bryce, and Rick edged to the door, ducking downstairs to bring up anything stuck in the truck. Traitors. They left me to deal with the parental apocalypse alone.

  Nate cleared his throat. I caught his gaze, and those green eyes turned to a steady and authoritative confidence.

  He was right. We had been working on my assertiveness. Without interference from the wedding, and with the baby on the way, it was up to me to push back against my family.

  Or for me to rein them in before WWE Raw broke out in my new living room.

  “Guys.” I adopted a sterner voice—one I imagined using on the baby…or Nate…when they got into the cookie jar before dinner. “What did I tell you? The baby hears everything. We’re supposed to be calm and soothing.”

  Calm and soothing.

  Right.

  Trying to mediate peace between my parents wouldn’t happen without severe economic sanctions and UN boots on the ground…

  …And yet Dad’s SUV had parked overnight at her house one night last week.

  Lindsey and I weren’t speculating, at least, not without alcohol to dull the pain. I was pregnant, and she swore off tequila after the wedding, and so the only thing we allowed ourselves to think was that Mom and Dad’s pent-up aggression came from somewhere. I’d witnessed enough to know their love wasn’t dead—not unless it got mashed under Mom’s thighs too.

  “Dear…” Dad faked his sweetness. “I wanted to organize the presents we bought for our darling youngest daughter.”

  Mom grinned through the venom. “And I thought, as her mother, I was entitled to give her any gift I saw fit. After all, sweetheart, I’m the one who raised her, took care of her, and pushed her to finally find herself a man.”

  Oh Lord. I stood. “Mom, remember that talk we had? When we decided it was best to approach certain topics of conversation with a bit more sensitivity?”

  “Of course, Mandy.” Mom enveloped me in a hug, thrusting my head against her chest. “Don’t you worry. I won’t let anyone get you riled up, not while you’re in your condition. Illegitimate or not, that baby is family.”

  “That’s so…nice.” I choked on her perfume.

  What the hell was with my family and coconut flavored and scented products?

  Mom stoked my hair. “And baby, if you weren’t moving in with Nate…I’d have taken you in myself. In fact…we still can!”

  I tried to push away. Mom turned half-python and clutched me against her bosom.

  “If you and Nate want to move out of this apartment…we can load your things into the truck and bring you home to Momma…”

  Fewer things were more frightening that my positive pregnancy test.

  This was one of those things.

  “Sandra,” Nate said. He tugged on my hand while Dad pulled Mom away. “I think we got this. We’re still dealing with all the changes, but come on.” He grinned the smile that so often melted me. It didn’t impress my parents. “We’ll be fine. I love Mandy and the baby.”

  It fluttered me in all the right places to hear him say such beautiful things…but the hormones figured it was more appropriate to cry. I hugged Nate, sniffling in his welcoming arms. His words were kind, but they meant more to me than just sweetness.

  He saved me from living with my mother.

  That was the stuff of legends. Not slaying dragons or winning jousts, but the noble prince offering the princess a home away from the Queen? That had happily-ever-after written all over it.

  Lindsey, Bryce, and Rick returned with an armload of the last boxes from my car. It wasn’t organized, and it looked like my studio apartment vomited into Nate’s place, but that was it.

  I moved in.

  I was now living with Nate Kensington, father of my unborn baby and absolutely the last man I ever imagined myself loving.

  Funny how things worked out.

  We feasted on our half a dozen pizzas—the wedding planning special from the restaurant who practically catered for us the past six months. Then our friends and family
said their goodnights.

  The door closed, and Nate and I gazed at the chaos that was our living room, decorated with boxes, shoes, spare electronics, luggage, and empty pizza boxes.

  He checked his cell phone, murmuring something about checking the time. His lips pressed into a hidden frown. He shoved the phone into his pocket.

  I wasn’t sure when I learned to read Nate so well, but I could tell now when he hid things, when he avoided a subject. He wasn’t curious about the time.

  “Did you parents ever text you?” I asked. “They…didn’t come tonight.”

  Nate gave me a cocky wink that didn’t seem as genuine as his usual. “Don’t worry about them. They need time.”

  “Your parents aren’t happy.”

  “They’ve never been happy with me.” He grabbed a stack of pizza boxes and stuffed them on the kitchen counter. “They’ll come around on this.”

  “This is a big deal.”

  “This is our big deal.”

  His hands snaked around my waist, pulling me close to steal a kiss. I wasn’t showing much, only enough to puff the front of my shirt out. Nate liked that. His kiss drifted from my lips, over my chin, and would have trailed lower if I hadn’t pulled away.

  “There’s a lot to unpack…” I bit my lip. “Should we get started?”

  “There’s only one tight little box I’m interested in.”

  I giggled. “You’re obsessed.”

  “I’m a man given a gift. Why wouldn’t I indulge?” Nate took another kiss, and the heat fluttered through me. “We’re not married, but we can still christen our bed, don’t you think?”

  “Our bed.”

  “I like how that sounds.”

  “Me too.”

  His kiss wasn’t as gentle this time, and every furious nibble cast shivers over my body. I tugged on his belt, but Nate pulled away with a groan.

  “Sorry…I have to go downstairs and check on the bar. Pat might need something restocked for tonight. You just…” His hands gripped my hips tight. “You keep looking so fucking delicious. I’ll be right back.”