by JB Heller
“You look stressed,” she finally says.
I give her my best duh look. “Of course I’m stressed. Everything with Bates is… It’s a lot.”
“And?” she urges.
“And nothing. That’s it.” I take another, larger sip of my drink. This thing is delicious.
My bestie nods, but she doesn’t look completely convinced. Her long, electric-blue nails strum against the side of her glass as her gaze sweeps over me. “So, let me help with the wedding stuff. You know I live for parties. I have connections everywhere. You want an erotic centaur ice sculpture, I’m your girl. You want—”
“Whoa,” I say, holding up a hand. “An erotic centaur ice sculpture? That’s oddly specific. I have questions.”
She laughs. “There was a bachelor party here last weekend, and that was what one of the grooms requested. It was quite tasteful, actually.”
My brows furl as I try to envision a tasteful erotic centaur ice sculpture. I’m not seeing it. “Yeah, I’m going to pass, but thanks?”
Addy sees some weird stuff, running this place. I envy her and kinda feel sorry for her at the same time.
“Figured you might. But seriously, let me help take some of the stress off your shoulders,” she says, placing her hand on my arm which is resting on the table. “I feel like there’s this distance between us, and I don’t know what I did to put it there, but I want to fix it.”
Tears prickle my eyes. I hate that she feels like she did something wrong when I’m the one lying to her. “You didn’t do anything, I swear. It’s just that this thing with Bates is complicated, and there are things I can’t really talk about. Trust me, if I could, you’d be the first person I’d confide in.”
Addy’s forehead creases as she frowns. “Okaaay. But you know I’m always here for you, right?”
“Of course I do,” I tell her with a grin. “Now, I need to ask you something.”
Her eyes light with interest, and she shuffles in her seat until she’s sitting up straight, shoulders pulled back, chin raised. “Hit me with it,” she declares.
“Will you be my maid of honor?”
She launches across the table, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. “Duh,” she says with a slight sniffle. “As if I’d ever say no. That means I get to throw you an epic bachelorette party.” She squeals and pulls away from me, righting her dress as she lowers back into her seat.
I cringe. “Umm, about that… We’ve decided to have a joint bachelor and bachelorette weekend in Vegas. You’re invited, of course! Bates is paying for everything, so you don’t need to worry about the money.”
Her eyes narrow. “I both love and hate this plan. I mean, who can say no to a paid trip to Vegas, but I really wanted to do something for you here.”
“Lennon’s already booked everything,” I tell her. “But I’m sure we can catch a drag show while we’re there.” Addy can’t resist a good performance.
“While you’re where? Are you bitches planning on cheating on us?” Janessa quips as she places a fresh appletini in front of me.
“We’re heading to Vegas for this one’s bachelorette. Apparently, her new sister-in-law-to-be has already organized it all,” Adley tells her, a slight sneer in her tone. “But don’t worry, nobody measures up to my queens.”
“Damn right,” Nessa sasses. “Soo, when’s the blessed event?”
“November 26th,” I tell her.
Both Janessa’s and Adley’s eyes widen.
“So soon?” Nessa breathes out, placing a hand over her heart.
Adley frowns again. “No wonder you’re stressed. That’s only a month away. How can you possibly plan a wedding in that time?”
“Umm…well, I’m not, really. Lennon hired a wedding planner for me. And we’re keeping it small. I actually have a meeting with her tomorrow—the wedding planner. Want to come with me? You know I’m terrible at making decisions.”
Janessa scoots onto the bench seat beside me, curling a sculpted arm around my shoulders. “Honey, should you be drinking these?” she asks, pointing at my second appletini.
“Yeah, why?” I ask, confused by her random question and the concern in her gaze.
“Alcohol isn’t good for the baby, sweetheart,” she murmurs softly.
My eyes bug out. “Wh-what? What baby? I’m not having a baby!”
Nessa’s eyes narrow with doubt. “So, this isn’t a shotgun wedding?”
“Oh, my Lord, no!” I squeak. “Why would you think that?”
“Cherub, your engagement was announced on ESPN two weeks ago, and you’re getting married in a month. What else are we supposed to think?”
I. Am. Mortified. And Adley has remained suspiciously silent. Shifting my focus to her, I ask, “Seriously? You think I’m knocked up too?”
She shrugs. “I mean, the thought did cross my mind. I didn’t even know you two were dating until a couple of weeks before your engagement. Then you say the wedding is in a month? What did you expect?”
My mouth falls open, my neck stiffens, and I jerk my head back. “Wow,” I breath out then shake my head. “Okay, well, let me set you both straight right now. Bates and I are not expecting a child. In fact, we haven’t even discussed having children. And I’d like to think you both know me better than to think I would willingly harm a baby by consuming alcohol while pregnant.”
Shock morphs to irritation then frustration. I grit my teeth to stop from saying something hurtful. I understand I’ve surprised everyone with everything happening so quickly, but really? They think I’m pregnant?
Bracing my hands on the table, I say, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.” I slide off the bench and march to the back of the club, pausing once in the narrow hallway leading to the lady’s room. Leaning against the wall, I massage my temples and take a few calming breaths.
Am I overreacting? Part of me feels as if I am. And they’re assumption isn’t that big of a leap, given the circumstances. But I’m still annoyed by it. Do they think that’s the only way Bates would ever consider marrying me—if I were pregnant?
So much for a night out helping me feel better; I’m more worked up than ever.
Running my hands through my straightened hair, I heave a sigh, pushing off the wall then entering the restroom. I quickly do my business then return to the table. Janessa is gone, and Adley looks sheepish as I take my seat.
“I didn’t actually think you had a bun in the oven, Titi, but I’d be lying if I said the thought didn’t enter my mind. I dismissed it pretty quickly, though. Especially after seeing you two together at your place. It’s pretty clear how smitten he is with you,” she says with a soft smile.
My tense muscles finally ease, and I smile back at my best friend. I know she only wants what’s best for me. “Thank you,” I murmur.
“So, is the offer still open to come with you tomorrow? ‘Cause you’re totally right. You suck at making decisions. Especially when it comes to color-coordinating decorations.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever, Amá loved the surprise birthday party I threw her.”
“Yeah, hot pink, orange, lime green, and sky blue all complemented each other really well in your beige apartment,” she deadpans. “I will not allow your wedding to be marred by any garish color schemes. I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.”
I can’t wipe the smile off my face. Addy and I are back to our old dynamic. Our friendship is going to be just fine.
Lennon and Adley hit it off surprisingly well when we all met with the wedding planner last week. I half expected Addy to hate Len on sight because of a few snippy comments she’d made about her role in the wedding and bachelorette plans. Fortunately, it wasn’t an issue once they actually met.
They even provided a great buffer between me and Bates, who was also at the meeting. I could tell he wanted to talk about the laundry incident, but he didn’t bring it up—probably because I made sure we were never left completely alone.
Since then, I’v
e managed to avoid any solo time with him. We’ve either been out in public together, making a show of our relationship, where we’re surrounded by people or within a group situation.
Like today, for instance, we’re hanging out at Lennon and Archer’s apartment with Addy, my brother, my sister, and Len’s girlfriends, Emory and Kinsley, along with their significant others that befriended me when Bates was living here too. Oh, and Vinnie.
“I can’t believe you brought him with you,” Bates complains, glaring at Vin. “What if he attacks baby Darcy?” He points at the tiny baby in question who is sleeping soundly in a little rocking swing contraption in the middle of the room. Darcy is Emory and Sebastian’s three-week-old little love nugget.
“He wouldn’t. It’s only men he doesn’t like. He’s fine with children. And if he gets snippy, I’ll put him back in his carrier,” I tell him.
Bates mutters something unintelligible under his breath—no doubt cussing out my bird—and sends daggers at Vinnie who I’m pretty sure is doing the same thing right back. I can only image how these two are going to coexist when I eventually move into Bates’s place. I see blood in my future and possibly the loss of digits—not sure whose, though, yet.
“Kiss, kiss, kiss,” Vinnie says, rubbing his beak alongside my cheek. I reach up and give him a little scratch as he nuzzles in closer.
“That just ain’t right,” Bates grumbles.
Dax chuckles. “Jealous of the green chicken, güey?”
“Damn right, I am. Look at him, rubbin’ up all over my woman. He’s goading me. I can see it in his beady little birdy eyes.” Bates points at him. “He’s a pervy bastard. I can spot ‘em a mile away, and that right there is definitely a depraved little fucker.”
His accusation has my orange soda going down the wrong way, causing me to choke. Coughing and spluttering, I try to draw in a breath. Bates is by my side in a heartbeat, patting my back tenderly. Vinnie, not down with his close proximity, hauls his birdy body up over my shoulder and goes in straight for the kill with a war-cry-like screech.
It all happens so quickly; I’m powerless to stop it. One minute, Vinnie’s being his cute snuggly little self, and the next, he’s trying to eat my fake fiancé’s face. I watch in horror as Vinnie latches his claws into the collar of Bates’s polo and sinks his beak into Bates’s cheek. A split second later, he’s ripping out Bates’s diamond stud and tossing it across the room before going back for more.
“Vinnie, no!” I yell. For some reason, he doesn’t listen, instead going for the jugular, swinging around and crunching down on Bates’s Adam’s apple.
“Vinnie!” I yelp, grabbing him with both hands only for him to twist his neck—Exorcist style—and dig his bloodied beak into my hand. I cry out, tears streaming down my cheeks as my sweet baby boy bites me for the first time ever.
“Holy shit,” Dax shouts, wrapping a hand around Vinnie’s neck. Then, with his free hand, he wedges a finger in the side of his beak until he releases me. “What the hell was that?” he demands as he puts Vinnie inside his travel carrier.
Blood trickles down Bates’s neck, but his focus is solely on me and my hand. “Fuck, babe, you shouldn’t have done that,” he murmurs, taking my hand and bringing it to his mouth where he presses a gentle kiss close to, but not on, the spot. “Come on, let me clean you up.”
I sniffle and nod as he leads me to the kitchen. He lifts and deposits me onto the counter beside the sink before turning to the cupboard above the fridge and pulling down a first aid kit. With more care and gentleness than I thought such a big guy could possess, he cleans the bite, applies some ointment, then places a Band-Aid over it. All of this without a single word or care for his own wounds. Warmth radiates through my chest, and my thoughts scatter to the wind as his eyes meet mine. The backs of his knuckles brush down the side of my face, and I can’t look away.
My attention snags on the blood dripping from his cheek, and I reach for it. “My turn,” I tell him, scooting off the counter then rounding him. He turns with me until his back is to the counter. “Let me clean you up. I am so sorry,” I murmur, dropping my chin to avert his gaze.
Nausea rolls through me; this is all my fault. I never should have brought him along. There are too many people here, and he’s over-stimulated. But he does seem to have a special kind of hatred toward Bates. He’s never been so brutal in one of his attacks.
“Hey,” Bates says, tipping my chin up until I’m forced to meet his gaze. “It’s fine. Or at least it will be after you play nurse and fix me all up.” He winks, a playful smile curving his lips.
I nod repeatedly, trying to make his words sink in. In the meantime, I go about cleaning him up with just as much care and attention as he did me.
Dax joins us in the kitchen as I’m dabbing antibacterial cream onto Bates’s neck. He winces. “Damn, man, that looks nasty.”
“It’s not so bad,” Bates utters, although the grimace on his handsome face says differently.
“Well,” Dax says, “Jekyll and Hyde is in the naughty corner, cussing you out still, so I think he’s just as butthurt over this whole thing as you are.”
Bates chuckles. “Where’d he learn that? I’ve never heard Tia cuss.”
My big brother’s grin is so big I’m surprised it doesn’t split his face. “I taught him, of course. He’s over there muttering fucking fucker like it’s a prayer.”
“No shit!” Bates bursts out laughing. “I still hate the little bastard, though.”
I keep my mouth shut. After all, none of this would have happened if I had just left Vinnie at home. I can’t really blame Bates for hating him. Not now.
A few minutes later, we settle in the living room with everyone else. I’m sitting on the floor, my back to the couch between Bates’s spread legs, when Adley hands me a fresh soda. I take it, grateful but unsure of what happened to my last one.
“Thanks,” I mumble, my mind still on what Vinnie did.
What if he did do that to the baby? I can’t even imagine. I shake the thought from my head just as said baby lets out a little wail. I’m the closest to his little rocker thing, so I place my drink on the coffee table then crawl over to him. “Hey there, little man,” I coo. He’s so freaking cute, I can’t even.
“Would you mind getting him out for me?” Emory asks. “He’ll be due for a feed soon. He’s just as big of a boobie monster as his daddy.”
“Yep, that’s my boy alright,” Sebastian says, pride emanating from his tone.
I chuckle as I unclip the little harness holding him in place, then gentle as I’ve ever been, I scoop him up into my arms. He peers up at me, a pensive expression on his chubby little face.
“Aren’t you just the cutest?” I murmur, getting to my feet then carrying him over to his momma.
“You can hold him until he gets cranky,” Emory tells me. “He’s not due quite yet.”
“Oh, umm, okay,” I mumble. He really is the most precious tiny thing. I swear my ovaries twitch in delight from just having him in my arms. It’s not like I’ve never held a baby before. My cousin in Mexico had twins early last year, and Amá and I went to visit when they were three months old.
But this baby…he’s so teeny and small. And the way he’s staring at me with those big green eyes, just like his momma’s, melts something inside of me. “I thought all newborns had blue eyes,” I say, glancing at his parents.
“So did we,” Sebastian says. “But apparently, that’s a myth.”
“I thought so too,” Kinsley adds, a hand over her own slightly protruding belly. “I wonder what color eyes our little miss will have?”
Her husband, Atticus, presses a sweet kiss to her temple, a lovestruck smile directed right at her. “It doesn’t matter; she’ll be perfect no matter what.”
Aww, these guys are making me feel all the feels.
Sensing eyes on me, I know instantly they belong to Bates. I don’t know how I know, but I do. Sure enough, when I shift my gaze to him, he’s watching me and
the bundle in my arms closely. I walk over to him as the others in the room continue discussing eye color and other baby stuff.
I tune them out and ask Bates, “You want to hold him?”
He swallows, rubs the back of his neck, then gives me a jerky nod. I gently place Darcy in Bates’s waiting arms, my heart squeezing at the sight. Bates cradles the infant to his chest, peering at him with a mixture of anguish and affection.
The need to comfort him has me moving to sit on the arm of the couch beside him and running my fingers through his hair. Tension radiates from him in waves, and I wonder how nobody else in the room seems to feel it. I settle my palm on the back of his neck, hoping my touch helps ground him.
When he looks up at me with a pained smile, I give his neck a light squeeze, letting him know with my touch that I understand. That I’m here with him in this moment.
Darcy squirms in Bates’s arms, and his head whips back to the little man. “Hey, stud,” he murmurs. “How you doin’?” The babe settles with Bates’s attention now returned to him. “Uncle B is going to spoil you rotten.”
“Oh God, not too much, I hope. He’s my parents’ first grandchild. They’re already going overboard. He has more toys than any kid could ever need, and he’s not even old enough to play with any of them,” Emory says.
Sebastian grins then adds, “Storm’s in-laws have adopted him as a surrogate grandchild too, and we all know the Beaugard family doesn’t understand the meaning of excess. He’s the first male grandchild for them, so they’re planning a trip out here next weekend to meet him. Spencer too.”
From what Emory’s told me, Sebastian’s parents are awful people who disowned his sister, Storm, for getting pregnant when she was a teen. But her husband, Jake’s, family are the loveliest people on the planet, and they took both Storm and Sebastian into their fold with open arms. I’m not at all surprised they count Darcy as one of their own too.
Taking in everyone here today, I’m filled with a sense of belonging and immense gratitude that this tight-knit group welcomed not just me into it, but my bestie and my brother and sister. When my gaze shifts back to Bates, my heart swells with warmth.
