“What if I don’t agree?” I ask, barely breathing because the shock from what he’s saying nearly brings me to my knees. It’s a damn good thing I’m sitting.
“Then, I’ll work on making you change your mind. The point is, I need you to know that the reason I’m here in this room with you right now isn’t because of the baby. It’s because I’m not willing to lose you.”
“Blue….”
I stop when he bends down and kisses my forehead. My heart flip flops in my chest. I’m surrounded by the manly scent of pine and warm sunshine. I close my eyes because, after all of these years, nothing has ever smelled that good. I drown in it—in him. When I slowly look at him again, he’s smiling at me, his face sweet and gentle in a way it hasn’t been in years and years. He’s holding the pregnancy test and whispers, “We’re pregnant, Doe.”
Oh God, what am I going to do?
Chapter 17
Blue
“Man, have some pride,” I grumble. “She doesn’t want you.”
Seymour looks up at me and whines, proving he has no pride left. He’s staring at the door that leads to my guest room. It’s a door that Miffy somehow managed to close all on her own. She trapped herself in there, but she’s alone, which is apparently what she wanted. I opened the door, but Seymour isn’t brave enough to go in. Hell, neither am I. My gaze drops down to get a better look at Seymour and then I squat down to pet the sad-sack.
“Women are really good at twisting us up in knots, aren’t they, boy?”
He yips in response. I laugh. It’s almost like he can understand me.
“You and I are pretty much in the same boat Seymour, my boy. Doe’s not talking to me. She’s having my baby and doesn’t want to be in the same room with me. What in the hell am I supposed to do about that?”
“You could start by getting off your ass and try talking to our girl instead of your damn dog.”
It shouldn’t surprise me that my mother is standing at the end of the hall, but it does just the same. I swear the woman is like a super ninja.
“She won’t talk to me, Mom. There’s not much I can do if she won’t let me.”
“I swear my boys have cotton balls between their ears instead of brains when it comes to women. Haven’t you learned anything from watching your brothers and sisters?” Mom asks, her hands on her hips—which incidentally is the universal warning sign that I should duck and cover.
I frown. “Well from Gray I learned not to make love in a sand trap where skunks might be lurking. Although, Mom, who really wants to make love in a sand trap? Some things are hard to shower out.”
“It got him his girl, didn’t it?”
“I’m not sure that’s exactly what made CC say I do.”
“Okay, what about White?”
“He knocked Kayla up. I think I achieved that. I’m pretty sure that’s why she’s avoiding me now, too.”
“God, you’re so dumb,” she huffs. “You make Gladys looks smart.”
“Gladys? You mean that horny chicken that was at Green’s—”
“Yes. You met Rooster at my wedding, remember? It’s his chicken. Well, he’s a rooster, too. It just sounds weird saying Rooster’s rooster,” she mutters, scratching her head and frowning.
“I don’t remember much about the wedding,” I grumble. “And that rooster might be smarter than all of us. He has his women running to him—not running away.”
“You don’t remember much about the wedding because you were in the playhouse with Meadow getting your monkey slapped,” she says.
Shock is the first thing that hits me. “She told you?”
Mom rolls her eyes and walks back toward the kitchen. My feet seem to move on their own, and I follow her. She slides onto a barstool at my breakfast bar, and I go to the other side. I get down two mugs, fixing us some coffee. It seems like this conversation is going to take a while.
“You kids. You think you’re so cute sneaking into mine and Jan’s playhouse and don’t take a minute to realize that the security cameras to the house catch you each time.”
“Well, shit.”
Mom laughs as I slide over her cup of coffee and get the creamer out of the fridge for her. She doesn’t drink coffee so much as she drinks dessert. She takes a little bit of coffee and four to five creamers—usually vanilla caramel, although Irish cream is another favorite.
“Exactly.”
“Wait, so you knew I was the one—”
“The one that put a bun in my girl’s oven? Of course, I did, Moonie. When are you going to learn that you’re never going to get a thing past your momma? I saw the cameras, but I also knew my Meddie wasn’t going to let a man near her but you.”