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Pit Stop: Baby! (Crescent Cove 4)

Page 97

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“No love goggles here, babe.”

I wasn’t surprised when the balled up cloth napkin hit me dead center in the back. I bent to pick it up and pitched it back at her. She grabbed it against her chest, screwing up her face until I was terrified she was going to cry.

But she surprised me one more time.

“I’ve always been jealous of my sister. Standard younger sibling story. And then she got knocked up by the pizza delivery dude, and that should be the stupidest thing ever and yet it turned into this grand love and she has everything. Absolutely everything.” Rylee’s chin wobbled. “There’s no way the same could happen for me.”

“You’re right. If you shut it down before we even have a chance to see what happens, it won’t happen. Not just for you, but me too. You’ll be denying us both.”

“You didn’t mention the baby.”

“The best gift we can give that kid is parents who love each other. But I won’t pretend for the sake of my child. That does no one any good, especially the baby.” I stepped forward and gripped her elbows, drawing her against me. “Luckily, I don’t have to pretend a damn thing. I love you so much I can’t think around it. Can’t be smart or reasonable or—"

She rose up on her tiptoes and our mouths met as if we’d designed it just that way. God knows she wasn’t quite tall enough to cover the distance if I hadn’t lowered my head. But I was craving the honeyed sweetness of her mouth and the flash of her dark eyes before she closed them and gave herself over to me. Her heart slamming beat for beat against mine as we fought our way through the kiss. Until there was just heat and hunger and a bottomless well of love that didn’t have a beginning and hopefully wouldn’t have an end.

I let go of her elbows and she wrapped her arms around my neck, boosting herself up so that her legs wound around my waist. And wrenched her mouth away from mine.

“I love you too. I don’t want you to leave. That makes me a shrew, I know, but I don’t fucking care. I want to be selfish and keep you for myself. The rest of the world got their time with you. Now it’s my chance and I’m taking it.” She framed my face between her palms. “Please, stay with me. Stay with us. If I have to get three jobs if this thing with Macy doesn’t work out, I will. I mean I have savings, but that only lasts so long. And if I get fired from two of them, I’ll get two more. We can make it work.”

For a second, I didn’t reply. I probably didn’t even breathe. That could’ve been why my head was throbbing as if I was at imminent risk of a cardiac event.

And this time, it wasn’t even the head below my waist.

“Baby, I’m really fucking rich.”

She pursed her lips. “Seriously? After that speech, that’s what you lead off with?” She whacked me hard in the arm.

I grinned. “I didn’t say that to brag, huntress. I was just saying you don’t have to work if you don’t want to. You can stay home with the baby for as long as you’d like, or not at all. You can do whatever you want with your life. I’m just asking to share it. That’s all.”

Her dark eyes filled and she waved her hand in front of her face as if she was suddenly hot. “Hormones. Don’t mind me. I’m not actually crying.”

A tear plopped on my shirt. Then another. “And that’s not actually liquid?”

“Don’t make me hit you again when I’m trying to bask in your sweetness.”

I took hold of one of her hands and brought it to my mouth, kissing her knuckles. “I bought us a house.”

“What?”

“I bought us—”

“No, no, I heard the words, but they just didn’t compute. How could you have bought us a house when you were leaving town to go back to racing until I just stopped you with my impassioned plea?”

I laughed so hard I nearly dropped her. “Huntress, I was never going back to racing. That was a story you came up with all your own.”

“But the email—and you saying you had big news. I didn’t make those things up. Oh. Oh. You meant the house.” She pulled her hand free from my grip and pressed it to her mouth. “What if I don’t like it?”

“There’s room for a tent. There’s about six acres give or take.”

“Now I’m really going to hit you.”

I grinned and turned to set her on the narrow countertop beside the stove. I would’ve preferred to put her on the kitchen table so I could live out one of my favorite sex fantasies, but getting it on over the remains of an overcooked roast didn’t quite measure up.

The counter could’ve worked as a fine substitute if it had been bigger than the span of my hand. But that was why I’d bought a house. We’d have many surfaces in our own place to desecrate.

And the kitchen counter was extremely spacious. Yes, I’d checked, and not so I could prepare our Thanksgiving turkey with room to spare.

“Oliver took me through it and it’s big enough for us and the baby. I could build on a pole barn if I wanted to, which is kinda important considering what I have in mind job-wise. Plus, there’s tons of yard for the kid or even kids if we decide to go there. It’s not a starter place we’d have to upgrade in a couple years. It’s move-in ready. And ready for someone to grow roots there. For us to grow roots there. If you love it like I do.”



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