Southern Pleasure (Southern Heart 1)

“You’re welcome.”

“We better get moving.” Aaron stands from the chair. “I just picked Kinley up from the airport. I want to get her home, so she can settle in.”

“Sure, thanks for stopping by. I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.” Evan walks us to the door and the two of them make plans to get together later.

“Wow,” Aaron says once we are in the truck.

“Yeah. He’s a great guy. Not many would be so adamant and willing to do what he’s doing.”

“You know Evan. He’s a stand-up guy,” Aaron says defensively.

“I know that

. I just mean, I really think it’s great what he’s doing for his unborn child.”

Aaron remains quiet until we pull into our driveway. “Thanks for offering to help him. I’m sure Misty will be no help at all. His gran doesn’t get around well, and with his parents living in Alabama, he’s going to need a female perspective.”

I just nod and smile, ending the conversation. Aaron carries both my bags up to my old room and leaves me to unpack.

Finally, after a week of back and forth, today is the day Misty and I sign the papers at my attorney’s office. Mr. Fields had them drawn up within twenty-four hours; he’s compensated well. However, it took me four more days to get Misty to answer her damn phone. I drove by her place, left messages with Heather—her cousin and roommate—and still crickets. This has been the longest week of my life, fearing she’d changed her mind and gone through with, “Getting rid of it,” as she’d said, without telling me.

Yesterday, she finally called. Her excuse for not getting back to me was she “was busy.” Busy doing what, I have no idea. She very quickly reminded me that just because she’s “giving me the kid” doesn’t mean I can control what she does. These next seven months are going to be exhausting. I’ll feel a little better once she’s signed the papers. However, that still doesn’t mean she’s going to eat right and not drink alcohol. She’s not even supposed to be lifting, at least that’s what the book I’m reading says. How am I going to be able to relax not knowing if she’s taking care of herself and the baby?

I contemplated asking her to move in. I even ran it past Aaron. He made a valid point that I have no intention of continuing my relationship with her. How could I? Having her move in may make her confuse the situation and she might try to change her mind. Yes, he has a point, but if that’s what she wanted, she could have had it. No, she’s not “the one,” but I do . . . did care for her—I guess I still do and always will because of the baby. However, I could have made us a family. I might have moved her in and the rest would have been history, but that’s not what she wanted. The day she came to me, her mind was made up—-she wanted no part of being a mother.

I knew it was a crazy thought. Aaron just helped me remember that. I’m desperate to keep my unborn child safe and it kills me that I can’t be there.

Pulling into the lot of the attorney’s office, I put the truck in park, but let the engine run. Picking up my phone, I check the time. I’m ten minutes early. I don’t see Misty’s Jeep, so I’m going to wait. I tried to convince her to let me pick her up, even told her we could grab something to eat afterward. She was adamant she could drive and she’s capable of feeding herself.

Frustrating woman!

I can already see I’m going to have to fight her tooth and nail in order to be involved. I want to be there for the appointments, especially the ultrasound. I read last night that they have 4D ultrasounds. I called Misty’s doctor’s office and they don’t have them, but they gave me the number of a place that does. The nurse made sure to tell me they are usually not covered under insurance. It’s worth it. I saw a few pictures online and the detail is amazing. I’m excited and scared as hell. It’s going to be a long seven months.

Twenty minutes later, Misty pulls in beside me. She’s ten minutes late and I want to berate her for it, but I bite my tongue. I don’t want anything to stop her from signing these damn papers.

Quickly hopping out of the truck, I jog to her door and open it for her. “Hey.” I keep my voice light.

“I can open my own doors, Evan. I’m not an invalid, I’m pregnant,” she smarts off.

Taking a deep breath, I reply, “I know that. I was just trying to be nice.” I place my hand on the small of her back and lead her into the office. “How have you been feeling?” I ask, keeping my voice soft.

She softens a bit at my mellowed tone. It wasn’t a question to make casual conversation. I really am interested.

“Good, still no signs of morning sickness.” She shrugs. “I must be one of the lucky ones.”

“Good. I’ve been reading, and for most women, it already happens so you just might be in the clear. Nine weeks right?” I ask.

She stops and stares at me. “You’ve been reading?”

I hold her stare as I answer. “Yes, I only have a few months to learn what I need to. I’m going to be doing this on my own and I need to be prepared. I also want to be there for you. Reading helps me understand what you’re going through. I don’t want to miss any of this, Misty. I know we’re not together, but this baby is a part of me.”

She nods once and turns to approach the reception desk. “Evan Chamberlin, we have an appointment,” she tells the lady at the desk. She’s casual, as if what she’s about to do isn’t a life-changing moment. She’s signing over the rights to her baby, the one she’s still growing inside her.

“Of course, Mr. Fields is expecting you.” She points to the door just down the hall. “You can go on in.”

I wave in greeting and follow Misty. My palms are sweaty. This day has consumed me from the minute I got her to agree to this.

“Evan, hi.” Mr. Fields stands from his seat and holds out his hand. I extend mine as well and we shake.