by Elise Faber
Because this was about him and Misty.
And they were the only ones whose opinion’s mattered. Okay, not the only ones, but it was their relationship, their hopefully-soon-to-be marriage, and so, in this case, yes, they were the ones that mattered the most.
Also, he was delaying.
A fact he knew because…well, he was delaying, but also because everyone in the room was getting antsy.
As well as everyone on the back deck apparently.
Because Misty chose that exact instant to walk through the door, his mom on her heels and looking regretful.
“Sorry,” she mouthed.
“Misty,” Frankie said, “I had a question about that stitch…”
“Just a second,” Misty told her. “I need to check on dessert.”
Rob, trailing the trio, did Chance a solid and tried to get her back outside to the planned proposal location (Soph had positioned a chair right near a rosebush, apparently the floral scent was just perfect for a proposal). “I thought you wanted me to give you an estimate on the back fence.”
“Later.” She waved a hand, eyes coming to Chance. “I thought you were going to bring out…” She trailed off.
Probably because their kitchen was crammed full of everyone else.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, drawing the question out, her gaze moving out of the room.
“Everything’s fine,” Soph said. “We were all just trying to get our hands on your cupcakes, but Chance was fending us off so we could eat outside.”
Misty frowned and strode toward him. “Well, that’s silly,” she said. “You’re pregnant, you get to have as many cupcakes as you want. Here, just take—” She reached for one of the cupcakes on the plate Chance was holding.
“No!”
Nine voices—five brothers (including Rob), one sister, one friend, one set of parents—spoke at once.
Not surprisingly, Misty froze.
Chance, for his part, was struggling to find the words.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “What’s going on?”
Soph glanced at him, widening her eyes, and then probably realized he was a lost cause because she huffed out a breath. “It’s just really pretty outside and—”
Chance plunked the plate on the counter, shoved his hand into the cupcake, and snatched out the ring.
Chocolate went everywhere.
But he hardly noticed.
Because he was blurting, “Will you marry me?”
Or rather shouting it.
Literally shouting it, making everyone in the kitchen jump, including Misty.
He held up his hand, covered in frosting and cake crumbs and holding a disgusting-looking ring holder.
Soph recovered first.
She snatched the ring holder out of his hand and moved to the sink.
Carter was second.
He handed Chance a dish towel to clean up.
Rob was third.
He grabbed the plate of cupcakes—most of them, honestly, worse for wear—and led the procession out of the kitchen.
Except for Carter, who actually had to pause by his side and wipe his hand.
And Soph, who then plunked the now-freed ring into his hand with a sigh.
Then they were gone, the door closed behind them.
“Did you ask what I thought you did?” Misty whispered.
Chance nodded. “Turned out the proposal in front of our family meant I panicked.”
She held up her thumb and pointer finger, barely an inch apart. “Just a little bit.” But she was smiling. “You want to get married?”
Another nod, and fuck, why couldn’t he find all the words he’d practiced? Everything he’d wanted to give to her. He just stood there like an idiot, with the ring in his palm and his eyes marking every feature of her face.
“I bet you had it all planned out, didn’t you?” Her smile grew. “The cupcake. The chair that Soph insisted I sit in by the roses—which smell great, by the way, but are full of bees.”
He winced.
She moved toward him, body melting against him, her hand resting on his chest. “You want to make things official?”
“I want you in my life forever.”
Her lips parted. Her eyes went glassy.
And finally, he got his shit together.
He gave her all the things he’d practiced, everything she deserved to hear. All the love he had in his heart for her. And then he got down on one knee and asked (not yelled), “Will you marry me?”
Tears ran down her face.
She nodded.
She pushed out a broken, “Y-yes.”
He slipped the ring on her finger…and then he pulled out the wad of tissue from his pocket.
And wiped her eyes.
And then, then he kissed her, knowing that his life had only changed for the better when Misty Hansen had crashed into his car.
Because she’d given him absolutely everything.
Fun. Fucking. Friends.
And…forever.
FUBAR
Carter
The sound of retching drew him from the back deck and into the guest bathroom.
Maggie was bent over the toilet, face pale and her brown curls stuck to her face. Her eyes came to his, seeming to sense him opening the door, though she’d been puking loudly, and he’d been intentionally quiet. “I—” She broke off, lost her dinner in the toilet again.
Fuck.
It had been months of this now.
Months of her puking.
Months of her losing weight when she was supposed to be gaining it.
He reached into the linen closet and pulled out a towel, wetting it at the faucet and squeezing out the excess, so the material was merely damp when he placed it on the back of her neck.
She moaned quietly. “I’m—”
And then she went again, christening the porcelain goddess.
“Don’t try to talk,” he murmured, running a hand up and down her back, feeling the bumps of her spine. Fuck, she’d lost a lot of weight.
“Did—” Retch. “I—” Retch. “Miss it?”
“The proposal?”
A nod.
“She said yes.”
“Shit,” Maggie muttered, resting her head on the toilet seat, which probably wasn’t the most sanitary thing, but she’d stopped vomiting for the moment, so Carter sure as hell wasn’t going to say anything.
“She’ll understand.”
Everyone would.
There was no hiding Maggie’s pregnancy—not with the constant vomiting and the weight loss—and even if he hadn’t moved to town and spent lots of time with Misty and her crew, and that crew hadn’t spent lots of time at his parents’ and Rob and Soph’s house—meaning that Carter ended up spending lots of time with Maggie, Raven, and Frankie, as well as his own family—he still would have noticed.
Because it was awful.
Soph was the picture of a glowing, easy pregnancy.
Maggie was the picture of suffering.
If he didn’t have the example of Soph, he’d wonder why women would go through the hell Maggie was facing.
Maggie started to push to her feet, wavered.
He caught her arm. “What are you doing?”
“I need to go apologize,” she said, still too damned pale, “and tell them congratulations and—”
“You need to sit down before you pass out,” he ordered, pushing her down, and it spoke for how weak she must be feeling, because she didn’t argue, just sat on the bathmat and leaned against the wall.
He gave her that for a few minutes, and when it seemed like the vomiting had stopped, at least for the moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out what he’d bought the other day.
A ginger hard candy.
“Here,” he said, handing it to her. “It’s supposed to settle your stomach,” he told her when she just stared at it in her palm.
“I—”
He reached into his other pocket, pulled out something he’d
decided to start keeping there.
A fresh toothbrush.
He’d bought a jumbo-sized box of them online, promising to keep one on him at all times. Because Maggie always wanted to brush her teeth afterward. Which he got. Because who wanted to taste their sick?
He wasn’t thinking about why he’d done that.
Or bought the candy.
Or had promised himself to be carrying them at all times.
He already knew.
Knew the moment she’d called him Mr. Sexy Carter Jackson. Knew when she’d asked him to wreck her.
Maggie Augustin was special.
She had spark.
She was gorgeous and curvy and smart.
She was going to be his.
But he’d been seeing someone else, and it wasn’t easy to break things off with Anika. Not only because his ex was good in bed, but because they’d just moved in together and he’d thought things were progressing toward something permanent.
Except, then he’d seen his brother with Misty.
And he’d known that Anika wasn’t even in the realm of a woman like Misty.
A woman like Maggie.
But Maggie was pregnant, and the kid wasn’t his, and she was sick all the time, and she was trying to figure out her life as a single parent.
And…it wasn’t the time to make a move.
Still, she needed someone to look out for her. Which was why he held out the toothbrush—and the tiny packet of toothpaste (same brand as he’d seen her carry in her purse)—and asked, “Unless you’d rather brush your teeth first?”
Her mouth fell open. “Why are you—”
He didn’t want to answer any questions that began with why. So, he slipped an arm under hers, tugged her to her feet, and stood by her as she brushed her teeth. Then he nodded to the candy. “Want to try it?”
He’d read online that peppermint and ginger might help.
Hopefully the mint from the toothpaste along with the candy would do the trick.
Her fingers shook as she opened the wrapper. After a moment of hesitation, she popped it into her mouth.
They both stood there in silence as she sucked the candy.
Waiting for her to either blow or for her stomach to settle.
The latter happened.
She pressed her hand flat to her abdomen, and astonished eyes met his. “I feel better,” she breathed. “I actually feel better.”
“Good, Curls. I’m glad it helped.”
Wide eyes met his. “Why are you being nice to me?”
Another question that began with why that he didn’t want to answer.
“I’m nice to everyone.”
That was true. He was a nice guy.
“To the point of carrying ginger candies and toothbrushes?”
And toothpaste, not that he was going to say that.
“Yes.”
“Liar.” She started to push by him, but even with the toothpaste and the candy, she was still pale and a little shaky. He caught her, steadied her again. “You just feel sorry for me.”
“You’re right, I do.”
She lurched back like he’d slapped her.
“Right,” she said, eyes glistening. “Feel sorry for the stupid girl who got pregnant accidentally, whose baby daddy told her to get rid of it, and when she didn’t, happily signed his rights away. Before my first doctor’s appointment. I get it. I was stupid. I got knocked up by a loser who didn’t even know how to please a woman, and now I’m pregnant and alone and so fucking stupid.” She sniffed. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m thinking. I can’t do this. I can’t have this baby—”
She clamped a hand to her mouth again.
Carter’d had enough.
He gripped her shoulders, shook her lightly, and bent so his face was in hers. “Breathe, Maggie.”
“I—”
Another jostle.
“Breathe.”
She breathed.
“Right,” he said. “I don’t feel sorry for you because you’re pregnant. I feel bad for you because you’re puking your guts up every second. I feel sorry that the sperm donor is such a moron that he isn’t going to be in the baby’s life—though that’s probably for the best, since no man worth his salt would do that.” He took a breath, gentled his voice. “And you’re not alone. You have us. All of us. You can do this, and I’ll help you. We’ll help you.”
A sniff.
More glistening.
“I still don’t know why you’re being so nice.”
He slid his hand up from her shoulder, cupped her cheek. “Don’t you?”
And he forgot all about it being a horrible time to make a move, all about her being vulnerable and him not wanting to take advantage.
Carter only thought of this woman in front of him, scared and alone and so damned beautiful it made his teeth ache. She needed him. Not at some indefinite point in the future. But now. Right now. She just shook her head and stared up at him.
“I like you, Maggie. You’re beautiful and funny and kind.” He stroked a finger over her cheek. “I like you a lot and—”
She gagged, spun out of his hold, and barely made it to the toilet in time.
Perfect.
He’d expressed his interest.
She could barely contain the vomit.
Luckily, he had another toothbrush in his pocket.
—FUBAR, coming March 29th, 2022
FUBAR
Carter and Mags story, coming March 29th, 2020
Preorder at www.books2read.com/FUBAR!
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Also by Elise Faber
Billionaire’s Club (all stand alone)
Bad Night Stand
Bad Breakup
Bad Husband
Bad Hookup
Bad Divorce
Bad Fiancé
Bad Boyfriend
Bad Blind Date
Bad Wedding
Bad Engagement
Bad Bridesmaid
Bad Swipe
Bad Girlfriend
Gold Hockey (all stand alone)
Blocked
Backhand
Boarding
Benched
Breakaway
Breakout
Checked
Coasting
Centered
Charging
Caged
Crashed
Cycled (October 5th, 2021)
Breakers Hockey (all stand alone)
Broken
Boldly (August 31st, 2021)
KTS Series
Riding The Edge
Crossing The Line
Leveling The Field
Scorching The Earth
Love, Action, Camera (all stand alone)
Dotted Line
Action Shot
Close-Up
End Scene
Meet Cute
Love After Midnight (all stand alone)
Rum And Notes
Virgin Daiquiri
On The Rocks
Sex On The Seats
Life Sucks Series (all stand alone)
Train Wreck
Hot Mess
Dumpster Fire
Clusterf*@k
FUBAR
Roosevelt Ranch Series (all stand alone, series complete)
Disaster at Roosevelt Ranch
Heartbreak at Roosevelt Ranch
Collision at Roosevelt Ranch
Regret at Roosevelt Ranch
Desire at Roosevelt Ranch
Phoenix Series (read in order)
Phoenix Rising
Dark Phoenix
Phoenix Freed
Phoenix: LexTal Chronicles (rereleasing soon, stand alone, Phoenix world)
From Ashes
In Flames
To Smoke (October 18th, 2021)
Stand Alones
So
meday, Maybe (YA)
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author, Elise Faber, loves chocolate, Star Wars, Harry Potter, and hockey (the order depending on the day and how well her team -- the Sharks! -- are playing). She and her husband also play as much hockey as they can squeeze into their schedules, so much so that their typical date night is spent on the ice. Elise changes her hair color more often than some people change their socks, loves sparkly things, and is the mom to two exuberant boys. She lives in Northern California. Connect with her in her Facebook group, the Fabinators or find more information about her books at www.elisefaber.com.
