by Kaylee Ryan
“Not fucking happening,” I growl.
Mike slowly tears his eyes from her and faces me. The smirk on his face makes me want to hit him like a donkey kicking a barn door.
“She’s a big girl, Chamberlin. She already has one big brother, she doesn’t need another.”
My hands, which are resting on the table, tighten into fists. I’ve always considered Mike a friend, but now, I just—
“Besides, aren’t you the one who dubbed her southern pleasure?” he goads me.
We’re sitting on the same side of the booth, which makes my next move easy enough. I grab hold of his shirt collar and bring his face mere inches from mine. “Not fucking happening,” I repeat my earlier threat. “Stay the fuck away from her.” I release his shirt with a shove, and his body jerks back.
“Hey, is this one mine?” Kinley’s sweet voice washes over me. I’m still wound tight, my eyes never leaving Mike’s.
I watch a slow smile creep across his face. “Sure is, darlin.’ Don’t forget you promised me a dance.” He winks at her.
I clench my jaw tight to keep from making a scene.
“Yeah, I’ll have to take a rain check. I have an early shoot in the morning. This is my last one.” She raises her beer as she turns to face me. “Evan, do you think you could take me home? Aaron said he was going to stay for a while longer.” She points over her shoulder. I see Aaron and a blonde getting friendly out on the dance floor.
“I can take you home,” Mike offers.
“Uh, thanks, Mike, but Evan is going my way.” She gives him a polite smile, but it’s not her smile, the one that lights up her face—the smile I’ve come to enjoy seeing on her over the past several weeks.
Digging my wallet out of my back pocket, I throw a few bills down on the table and push on Mike’s arm. Reluctantly, he stands and allows me to slide out of the booth.
I place my hand on the small of her back. Kinley leans in to give Olivia a quick hug, then turns to smile up at me.
My smile.
“Let’s get you home,” I say, bending down next to her ear. She nods and, with my hand guiding her, we head out to my truck.
This past month has been crazy. I’ve been busy with sessions in my studio. Business is great; I couldn’t be happier. I’ve been shopping non-stop for the perfect room for baby girl Chamberlin. Evan says he doesn’t know what he’s going to name her yet. I want this little girl to have a room that dreams are made of. Even though Evan has to play mom and dad, I want to help him—-we all do. I want to make sure this little girl knows she’s loved, because she is.
Evan is family, so sometimes when I think of him as something other than that, I feel guilty. I try; I really do. I try hard not to notice how amazing his body is. I try hard not to fantasize about tracing those six-pack abs with my tongue. I find myself failing in my attempts more often than not.
It’s hard to prevent it when we spend so much time together. Today is a perfect example. I’m going over to his place in a few hours to start painting. I picked up the paint and all the supplies yesterday. I’ve been giving his credit card a workout. I’ve been finding bargains to save him some money, but he needs everything!
“Morning,” Mom says as I walk into the kitchen.
“Morning. Something smells good.”
“Waffles. You just missed your dad and Aaron. They’re helping Evan with some branding today,” she tells me.
Although both my father and Aaron, as well as Evan, raise and breed thoroughbred horses, they also have cattle. Branding is time consuming. It’s an all hands on deck kind of job. Evan has a small crew who works for him, but with his grandfather unable to help, my dad and Aaron have been lending him a hand the last couple of years. He does the same for them.
“Evan mentioned that last night. He called to tell me where he was going to leave the key. I’m going over after my morning session to start painting the nursery.”
“You know I’ve been meaning to ask you. Your Dad and I want to get him something special. I know he will refuse a shower, although he shouldn’t,” Mom says.
“Yeah, that’s a pride thing, I think. Men just don’t get that a shower is all a part of having a baby. Of course, in his defense, if the baby mamma was involved, she would gladly accept a shower. He’s so out of his element.”
“He’s been a trooper though. He really wants to do right by this baby,” Mom adds.
“Yes, he does. He’s a great guy.”
“Hmm.”
“What hmm?” I ask her.
“Nothing. So do you have any ideas of what we can get him?”
“The furniture is bought, all except for the rocking chair, but he wants to get that himself. Really clothes, bottles, everything,” I laugh.
“I so wish he would let us have a shower. I was talking to Ethel at church on Sunday and she’s worried about him.”
“Why don’t you all throw a ‘grandparents’ shower? It’s a way around it. I know the ladies at church would understand the meaning of what you are doing. You all can shower Ethel with gifts for her new great-granddaughter.”
“McKinley Rae, that’s perfect! You, my daughter, are one smart cookie.”
“Oh, go on,” I tease her. This causes her to laugh. I love my parents; they’ve been there for me and Aaron every step of the way. We’re lucky to have them.
“Thanks for breakfast. I have to get to the studio. My session is supposed to be here in twenty minutes.” I give her a kiss on the cheek and rush out the door. I have to walk only a hundred feet to get to my studio, but I want to get the lights on and my camera set up. I guess some of Aaron’s ‘I don’t want to be late for anything’ attitude has rubbed off on me over the years.
I’m just setting up my camera when my phone alerts me to a text.
Evan: I put the spare key where we talked about. I also told Gram and Gramps you would be there. Make yourself at home.
Me: Thanks! I can’t wait to get started.
Evan: I feel guilty that I won’t be there to help.
Me: I got this, Chamberlin.
Evan: LOL. Okay, just be careful. No ladder’s until I get there.
Me: Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have cattle to brand?
Evan: On it.
Just as I’m slipping my phone back into my pocket, it rings. Glancing at the caller ID, I see it’s my morning client. “Hello.”
“Kinley, hi, it’s Beth. Thomas woke up with a fever today, so I’m going to have to cancel our session. I’m so sorry to do this on such short notice. I got busy with calling the doctor and forgot all about it.”
“Beth, it’s fine. No worries. I hope Thomas feels better. Just give me a call and we can reschedule.”
“Thank you so much.”
I end the call and pack my camera back into the bag. Shutting down the lights, I head back to the house. Looks like I will get to start painting sooner than I thought.
In the house, I find Mom on the phone. She raises her eyebrows in question. “Session cancelled,” I whisper. She nods and holds up a finger, asking me to wait.
I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and take a seat across from her at the table.
“Great, Kinley just walked in. I’ll run this past her and let you know,” Mom says before hanging up. “What happened?”
“Beth called and Thomas is sick. She’s going to reschedule. I was just coming in to change into some old clothes before heading over to Evan’s to start painting.”
“I was just talking to Mabel from church. She agrees that having a shower for Ethel is a great idea. She’s starting the phone tree as we speak. We are going to plan it for a month from now after church one Sunday.”
“That’s a great idea! It will be good for Ethel to get out of the house and Evan can use the support for sure.”
“It’s all in the works. Do you need any help painting?” she asks.
“I think I’m good. Evan has the room cleared out. So I just need to lay down the tarp and tape off the trim. That will ta
ke some time. He already texted me and said I had to wait for him to edge it in.”
“He’s protective.”
“He’s been around Aaron too long when it comes to me,” I reply.
“If you say so. Since you don’t need any help, I think I’ll head into town and look for some decorations for the shower.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you later.” I rush off to my room to change. I can’t wait to get started on this room.
Twelve hours. It took us twelve hours to work through the new herd. Aaron and his dad were lifesavers. They helped instruct the crew as to what to do. No way could this have gotten done in one day without them. I’m glad to have it done, but disappointed I missed Kinley. She started on the nursery today and I was looking forward to spending time with her, but I refuse to think about what that means.
Unlocking the door, I see the glow of a light upstairs. Kinley must have forgotten to turn it off. Even though I’m dead on my feet, I rush up the stairs to see how much she got done. Sure enough, the light to the nursery is on and I’m shocked to see it’s done. The walls are painted in a color that Kinley informed me is a medium lavender. To me, it just looks like a light purple.
The room looks as if a professional came in and did it. The tarp that I laid down for her is gone as are all of the painting supplies. Hard-headed as ever, it’s obvious she ignored my ‘wait for me for the ladder’ warning I gave her. I swallow back the lump in my throat.
This is real.
In just four short months, my baby girl is going to be here. I will never be able to thank Kinley enough for everything she’s done. Pulling out my phone, I swipe the screen and see it’s just after nine. I helped the crew feed and water all the horses before heading home. Surely, she’s still up. I decide to send her a text first.
Evan: You up?
I hear a beep of a cell phone. Did she leave her phone here? I follow the sound across the hall to my room. Opening the door, I allow the light from the nursery to light the room. That’s when I see her. Kinley is curled up on my bed, phone clutched in her hands. Surveying the room, I see a floral-looking bag sitting on the floor. My eyes roam over her and I see her hair is damp. She must have brought clothes to change into. McKinley was wet and naked in my shower, in my room.
Fuck me.
Even as tired as I am, my body responds to just the thought of her wet and naked. Moving further into the room, I slowly take a seat on the edge of the bed, careful not to wake her. There’s no one here to witness me lusting after my best friend’s little sister, my friend. She’s been a pillar of strength for me these past couple of months. I honestly don’t know what I would do without her.
Her phone beeps again, reminding me of the text I sent her. I freeze, waiting to see if the sound wakes her.
It doesn’t.
A loose strand of hair is hanging down in her eyes. Ever so gently, I tuck it back behind her ear. It doesn’t wake her up and I’m relieved I get her like this for just a little while longer. I know I should wake her up and sitting here memorizing what she looks like in the moment, curled up in my bed, is wrong. I just can’t seem to find the will to care.
Her phone dings again, and this time she stirs, causing that errant strand of hair I’d just moved to once again obstruct my view. Just as my hand goes to move it, her eyes slowly open. She recognizes me right away, and a soft smile graces her lips. “Hey,” she says, her voice laced with sleep.
My hand has a mind of its own as I find myself cupping her cheek. “Hey, you wore yourself out today.” It’s not a question. She did a hell of a lot of work today for my daughter and me.
Her eyes light at my words. “Did you see it?” she asks.
“I did. It’s perfect.” You’re perfect.
“It turned out better than I expected,” she confesses.
My hand is still cupping her cheek and I know it’s all kinds of wrong. I run my thumb across her cheek and reluctantly release my hold on her. I can’t bring her into all this drama. She deserves nothing but the best, more than what I could give her. Not to mention, I’m sure my best friend would kick my ass if I tried to date his sister. I just need to learn to control my hormones when I’m alone with her.
“I’m glad you went with white furniture.”
Sitting up, she leans against the headboard. “Yeah, with the white trim and the color of the walls, it’s really going to stand out. I can’t wait until you get it all put together.”
I groan at the thought. “I’ll start on it this weekend.” I know she’s itching to decorate now that the painting is done.
“Good. I’ll tell Aaron he has to come help. Between the three of us, we should be able to whip it out in no time.”
“You’ve done enough,” I tell her.
“This is my project, mister. No way am I missing it.”
“What time did you finish?”
Blinking, she looks down at her phone. “About an hour ago. Sorry I dozed off.” I can barely see the tint of red coloring her face from the small amount of light in the room.
“Have you eaten?” My guess is she worked all day to get the room completed.
Her belly growls, not giving her time to answer. “All right then. Let me grab a quick shower and we can go grab something to eat.” I stand from the bed.
“Deal.” Her grin turns into a yawn as she stretches her arms above her head. The t-shirt she’s wearing lifts and shows her toned stomach. I force my eyes to close and turn away from her. I busy myself with pulling clean clothes out of my dresser.
“I’ll be quick.”
“Good, I’m starving. I’m going to go check out my mad painting skills. I’ll wait downstairs.”
I hear her climb off the bed, her feet hit the floor, and the click of my bedroom door as she closes it behind her. I exhale a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.
I’ve got to get my shit together.
I rush through my shower and meet Kinley downstairs in less than fifteen minutes. “What are you in the mood for?” I ask, shoving my wallet and my phone in my pocket.
“I’m open to anything; just nothing that’s going to take forever.”
“I think I can manage that.”
The drive into town is filled with talk of furniture assembly and decorating ideas. The pressure I feel when I think about all that needs to be done before my daughter arrives lessens the more Kinley talks. She’s willing to take the lead and I’m letting her. I want to be involved, but shit, I’m in over my head. I’m scared to death for my kid.
We find ourselves at Subway. “Great choice,” Kinley says as she takes the first big bite of her meatball sub. She’s refreshing. She’s never afraid to speak her mind or be herself. Most girls order a salad and pick at it. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve known her all my life, or if it’s because she’s really just that girl—confident and sure. I’m going to go with the latter.
“So, I’m thinking about going to visit my parents and grandparents before the baby comes.”
“That’s a great idea. I’m sure you miss them. How’s your dad doing?”
Misty never once asked how my father was. I never realized how disconnected we really were, until now. “Same. Mom says he started a new chemo. So far, he seems to be adjusting to it well.”
“When were you thinking of going to see them?”
“In a few weeks. I have a lot to do before the baby gets here, but I need to see them, you know?”
“You should go. Family is important,” she says.
“Yeah. I think I’ll fly. It will give me more time with them. I don’t see them coming back here any time soon. Dad really likes his oncologist.”
“I’m sure it’s hard to be away from them, especially with all the changes going on in your life.”
I nod. She gets it—-gets me. She’s so easy to talk to. I’ve never been one to open up, unless it was to Aaron. There’s nothing he doesn’t know about me. Well, there is one thing. If he knew the thoughts I’m having about hi
s baby sister, he would kick my ass.
The flight to Alabama is uneventful. I spent the entire time running through everything that still needs to be done. I’m trying really hard not to freak the fuck out that in just a little over three months I’m going to be a daddy. I’m going to be responsible for a tiny human and all her needs. I’m a little overwhelmed.
I traveled light with just a carry-on, so I can avoid the whole baggage claim fiasco. I’m searching the crowd for my mom. She insisted she pick me up. I hear her before I see her.
“Evan!” She’s already in a sprint toward me, so I stop and drop my bag to the floor, preparing for impact. When she reaches me, I wrap my arms around her and pick her up in a tight hug. “I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you too,” I say, placing her back on her feet. “How’s Dad today?”
“He’s feeling good. This new chemo doesn’t make him as sick,” she explains. “Let’s get you home.”
I nod my agreement and pick my bag back up. Throwing my arm over her shoulder, we leave the airport.
“How are Grandma and Grandpa?” I ask once we are on the road.
“Good, it’s hard living back home with my parents after all these years.” She laughs. “It’s like it doesn’t matter that I’m forty-eight years old, married with a child of my own. I go right back to feeling like a teenager again.”
“Grandma always was a caretaker,” I agree.
“Yeah, she fusses over your dad constantly and some days it drives him crazy. He just wants to be left alone. We’ve thought of buying a house or renting an apartment, but it just seems crazy when it’s just the two of them in that big old house. Not to mention, it’s nice to have the help, especially on the bad days.”
We don’t really talk about the “bad days.” I know they are there, but they try and shelter me from it as much as possible. Like my Grandma, Mom often forgets I’m an adult she can lean on for support. Hell, I’m about to be a dad.
Mom and I spend the rest of the drive just catching up. Before I know it, we’re pulling into the driveway. The first thing I see is my dad and my mom’s parents sitting on the front porch waiting for us. Until this moment, I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed them.
