I grit my teeth, as if it matters which one of us explains things to her. The baby isn’t mine, after all. Still, I'm glad when Luke directs Carrie’s questions to me. The gladness only lasts a second as I watch her bounce on her heels just the same way I did; this woman’s clearly practiced at caring for the needy babies. I feel fucked up as she holds the baby, talks about taking her to the ‘system’ doctor.
"Then I'll call for foster placements. You know anybody within the church? I know the drop offs here, they usually go to someone within Evermore."
Luke looks down briefly. "I'll ask around,” he says impassively.
"I bet I'll have her worked up by tomorrow morning. At this hour, it's just more compassionate for me to take her over to the place we use a lot."
"Of course,” Luke says. “That sounds great."
I have no idea what the fuck they’re talking about, but why does that matter?
Luke steps closer to the baby. "You be good," he says down to her.
I can't find the right thing to say as I step closer and aim my own smile at her. My throat aches. I tell myself it's just because I understand the feeling. Parent not wanting you...
"Bye, baby," I murmur, and the woman turns to go.
As soon as the door closes behind her, I feel that tight weight in my chest again. As I look up at Sky's face, it twists into something sharper. Something more like hurt. Although I don't know why.
"Well, that's done," he says, and I feel him searching my face for some clue of how I'm feeling. I pull my phone from my pocket so I can look down at it. "Carrie seemed nice."
I take a seat in one of the armchairs by the coat rack and surf around on my phone. "Got an email that I need to answer,” I say.
"I could do some of that, too, I guess."
He sits at his desk and opens his laptop, and I clench my jaw. What is this shit? I feel another burst of irritation that he doesn't notice things are going sideways for me.
Why should he, though? He's not a fucking mind-reader.
Not like I am for him.
Just fucking great. Now I'm bitter and fucking...emotive.
Sky stops what he's doing and looks up at me. Then his dark brows narrow. He pretends to go back to what he's doing, but after a second, I’m pretty sure that he's not really working. A moment later, he says, "Why don't we go? Let's get some dinner."
I inhale slowly, trying to shake off whatever the fuck this mood is. "Sure. If you want."
He gets up and comes over to me, and at the last possible moment, I slide my phone into my pocket.
"Just need to go downstairs and put a few things away,” I say.
"It can wait until tomorrow,” Sky says. “No one will touch it with security here overnight."
I nod. "I guess that's true."
When we get into the stairwell, he pins me up against the wall. "You going to tell me what's the matter, or do I need to pin you here till you talk?" He presses his hips against mine, and I feel how hard he is for me. My dumb dick twitches even as I grit my teeth.
"There's nothing wrong.”
"You're a lousy liar, Rayne babe. But I think I've got a guess. It was the baby, wasn't it? Handing her off made you feel...something."
I shut my eyes, and he wraps an arm around my shoulders. "Is it because of your dad?" His lips feather gentle kisses along my jaw.
"Probably,” I whisper.
He holds me close, even as I feel his hard dick; he's not pressing it against me anymore. "It makes sense, Rayne babe. But Carrie’s going to be good to her."
I swallow hard, shutting my eyes as I try to let the feeling pass.
"We'll have kids as soon as you want. And we can adopt them if you want to."
I can't help a soft laugh. "Isn't that the only option?"
"They could come from one of us."
"From you." I'm as surprised by my blurt as he looks like he is. But it makes sense. "You come from an influential family. Powerful and successful. For me, it doesn't matter."
He presses his forehead to mine. "Dammit, Rayne."
"You've got a foul mouth for a pastor," I rasp against his cheek.
He hugs me hard. "You have a God-given talent, Vanny. You're an artist, one of the best I've ever seen. Those genes should be passed on. I'm just a public speaker."
"You're a dreamer, McD." I hold his head. "You're more than that. You're a visionary. You see something how you want it to be, and then you try to make the thing from the ground up. That's what the world needs more of."