Expect Me (Rivers Edge Book 3) (8 page)

I grab a clean washcloth from the stack I replenished last night and wet it with cool water from the sink. Josselyn’s already sitting on the floor with her sweaty head back against the cabinet when the rag is finally wet. I lay it down on her forehead and drop down to sit next to her.

“How can you be puking when you haven’t eaten anything in twelve hours?” I ask.

“I don’t think this baby cares how long it’s been since I’ve eaten. He or she makes it very clear that I am going to be throwing up every morning whether I’ve eaten or not.”

“You do this every morning?” I ask, catching her gaze for the first time since I entered the room.

“Every morning and at the drop of a hat throughout the day. The worst is when I brush my teeth though. I have to give myself a pep talk just to put the toothpaste on the toothbrush.”

Man, this part is gutting me. I wish I could take this away from her and carry it myself. I can tell how miserable she is, and I can only hope that it won’t last too much longer.

“I think the worst has passed. I’m starving now,” she says as she starts to get up off the floor. I jump up quickly and extend my hand to her. She places her smaller, much softer one inside of mine, and I help her stand back up.

“I can’t even believe you want to eat after that.”

“I don’t really have a choice. The baby needs nutrients. And I need Mexican food,” she mumbles as she walks to the sink and grabs the extra tooth brush I gave her the day before.

“Mexican food?”

“Yep. The spicier, the better. It’s the weirdest thing, but it seems like the only thing I can keep down.”

Seriously? I can’t believe she wants tacos right now. Pregnant women and their crazy ass cravings. “Well, I don’t know how much Mexican food I have here, but we’ll pick stuff up at the store when we get back to town from grabbing your stuff.”

“Sounds good,” she mumbles in between spitting out the toothpaste and brushing her teeth. She’s right, though. I can see her gagging each time she brings the toothbrush back up to her mouth.

After Josselyn brushes her teeth, we head into the kitchen to see what I have for breakfast. I have a full breakfast every morning, usually a plate piled with eggs, sausage or bacon, and toast, but I’m not sure what is going to be easy on Josselyn’s stomach.

Josselyn heads to the cupboards and finds the one with glasses before heading over to the fridge to grab the carton of milk. She pulls the carton out of the fridge and opens the cap and I can tell instantly by the look on her face that the milk is sour.

“This expired almost two weeks ago,” she says with an incredulous look on her face as she examines the date printed on the side of the carton.

“Yeah, well, I don’t drink a lot of milk. Nor do I cook a lot with it.” I walk over and grab the carton from her hand before she catches another whiff of the soured milk and throws up again.

Once the milk is dumped down the drain, and the lumps are washed down with the spray hose thingy, I grab the carton of eggs from the fridge. “How about some scrambled eggs?”

“Sounds good,” she responds as she fills her glass up with water.

“Coffee?” I offer as I fill back up my cup.

“Just a very little bit. Caffeine is one of the luxuries I cut back on when I found out I was pregnant.”

“You had to cut back caffeine because you’re pregnant?” I ask. I have so much to learn about all of this pregnancy shit.

“Yeah. I was pretty much addicted to Mountain Dew, and I read that it’s not good for an unborn child. So, I gave that up. I do have a little bit of Pepsi every once in awhile if I start to get a headache and I try to stick with decaf coffee.”

“Mountain Dew, huh? A woman after my own heart,” I say as I mix up the eggs and pour them into the preheated skillet.

“Yeah, it kept me going between working two jobs. I slept on average of five to six hours a night so Mountain Dew was my other best friend.”

I’m quiet as I fix up the scrambled eggs and throw a few slices of bread into the toaster. I can’t imagine a woman like Josselyn working two jobs all the time just to live. No wonder she looked so exhausted all those nights ago at the wedding reception.

After breakfast is consumed - and I’m surprised Josselyn actually ate the entire plate of eggs and two pieces of buttered toast - we quickly get ready for the day and pile in my truck to head to St. Charles to retrieve some of her stuff. We engage in more general getting-to-know-you talk the entire trip. She tells me about growing up in the city and about the pressures her parents put on her to succeed. I fill her in on our small town and about some of the antics my brothers and I have gotten into over the years.

As we cross the city limits of St. Charles, Josselyn gives me directions to Matty’s apartment which is in an older section of town. Not so much the historical side, but more of the let’s-see-how-many-small-apartment-buildings-we-can-cram-into-each-city-block part of town. The apartment building we pull up in front of is an older brick building with dingy white trim around the windows and door.

“Matty’s roommate is Rico, and he’ll probably be home. He’s a bartender at a place downtown and generally works nights.”

“Okay. What about Matty? Will he be here?”

“Oh, Matty will definitely be here. I sent him a text earlier to let him know we were coming, and, if I know Matty at all, he rearranged his schedule to be here.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s a photographer,” Josselyn says as she removes her seatbelt and makes a grab for her door.

“Wait,” I say as I slide out of the truck and head around to help her. I catch her gaze as I open her door and extend my hand. She places her soft hand inside of mine but makes no move to get out of the truck. She just sits there and stares at me. It’s like we’re both caught in the same trance, neither of us able to pull our gaze away from the other.

Before I can think or speak, I step forward and turn her to fully face me, her legs dangling out the door of the truck. I step into the small space between her jean clad legs. I lean forward and press my forehead against hers. The small contact isn’t near enough to keep me content, but it’s a touch I crave.

Josselyn closes her eyes and threads her fingers within mine. I feel her hot, sweet breath fan across my smooth face. Her scent is intoxicating and arousing, and I long to kiss her sweet, lush lips. I have enough wits about me to not push it at this moment, especially considering we’re along the edge of a public street with her best friend a stone’s throw away.

She opens her eyes, and I can instantly make out that their color is deep brown.  She’s turned on. I know that I need to pull away from her now, give us both the space we need. The space I’m definitely going to need to get myself under control below the belt.

I lay a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth, just the faintest of touches to hopefully tide myself over until I’m able to fully touch her again. The corner of my mouth turns up as I pull away from her.

Josselyn looks over my shoulder which causes me to turn. I quickly zero in on the person standing on the front steps. He’s a tall guy - not quite as tall as me - and has his arms crossed protectively over his skinny chest. I’m pretty sure I could take him in a fight with one arm tied behind my back, while drunk and short on sleep, but that’s not the mentality I need to go into this meeting. Matty’s going to be protective of her. Hell, I’d be disappointed in him as a best friend if he wasn’t. But by the glare on his face, I can tell I’m going to have my work cut out for me where this guy is concerned.

“You ready for this?” she asks with a curious look on her beautiful face.

“Ready to meet your gay best friend?” I ask as I look up again at the man standing on the steps of the apartment building. “You betcha.”

I can tell by the looks on Matty’s face that he is going to make this difficult. He has this whole protective thing going on as he glares down at Travis and me as we walk up the sidewalk. I love that he’s going all big brother on us right now, but it’s a little unnecessary, and honestly, he’s a little out of his league with it. Travis would tear him up.

“Good morning, Matty,” I say as I step forward and throw a kiss onto his smooth cheek.

Matty continues to throw eye daggers at Travis as he mumbles a quick, “Hi.”

“Matty, this is Travis. Travis this is my best friend in the whole world, Matty,” I say as I sit back and watch the stand-off. I look back and forth between the two like a slow motion tennis match, wondering who is going to break first.

Travis extends his hand as a peace offering. “Travis Stevens,” he says as he waits for Matty to respond. His facial expressions give nothing away as his eyes remain locked on Matty’s green eyes.

I see the slight twitch in Matty’s jaw as he stares at Travis. They’re basically the same height, but Travis is broader and has him by about thirty pounds. Thirty pounds of solid muscle.

Matty finally extends his hand ever so slowly and shakes Travis’s hand. “Matty Wesley,” he replies with a very slow shake of the hand. I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding as I turn my attention back to Matty.

“We’re going to grab my stuff, okay?”

“Yep. I have it gathered in the kitchenette, ready to go for you,” Matty replies as he keeps a close eye on Travis. He finally turns and heads up the stairs to his second floor apartment. “It was basically all still boxed up so I didn’t have to do too much, doll,” he says over his shoulder as he reaches the top of the stairs.

I follow Matty into the apartment, Travis right on my heels, and see my three boxes and my overnight bag stacked up against the cabinets in the kitchen.

“Hey, Josselyn,” Rico says in a slight accent from his position in front of the stove. When I first met Rico four years ago, his accent was much thicker and it was hard to understand him at times.

“Hi, Rico. This is Travis,” I say as I glance back at Travis behind me.

Rico’s face lights up like Christmas morning when his gaze falls upon the man standing behind me. Rico quickly wipes his hands on the hand towel on the counter before extending it towards Travis.

“Please to meet you, Travis,” Rico says with a smile. In that moment, I’m pretty sure Rico is shamelessly flirty with Travis. Travis must sense it too because he instantly tenses and pulls his hand back as quickly as possible without seeming rude.

Rico gives me a hug and whispers in my ear, “Gay?”

I can’t contain my grin as I whisper back, “Nope. Sorry.”

“Shoot. I thought you brought me a new toy to play with,” he says as he pulls back and turns back to the stove. Well, not without taking one last look at the sexy man standing behind me in his very nicely fitted jeans and tight gray t-shirt. I know exactly what Rico’s thinking.

I turn to Travis who has his eyebrow as high up on his forehead as it will go. “What?” he whispers.

I smile again and shake my head signaling ‘nothing’.

“Are these the boxes?” Travis asks as he grabs a hold of the top two and picks them up off the pile like they are filled with nothing but air. “I’ll just run them down to the truck, okay?”

“Sure. Thanks,” I reply.

As soon as Travis is out of the open door and heading down the stairs, I turn towards Matty. “He seriously just picked both of those boxes up like they weighed nothing. It took both me and Rico to move each of those boxes…individually. Josselyn, that man is like a Greek God.”

“Oh, so true,” Rico adds.

“Did you check out his butt in those jeans? Damn, girl. That should be illegal,” Matty says with a shake of his head.

Rico throws in his two cents where Travis’ butt is concerned, fanning himself as if the temperature in the room rose twenty degrees. I laugh at their assessment of Travis and turn my attention back to Matty. “Why are you being all short and macho towards him?” I ask.

“I have to. It’s my job as big, gay brother.”

“Well, I appreciate you’re protecting me and all, but you need to be nice to him.” I look deep into his eyes and plead with my own. “Please, Matty. It’s important to me.”

Matty exhales dramatically and gives me an eye roll. “I know it is. I actually do like him. I just want to make him squirm a little under my scrutiny.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Thank you. You are the best, you know that, right?” I say as I throw my hands around his waist.

“Of course I know that, doll,” he says as he returns my hug.

“Well, at least you’re not too modest,” I respond with another laugh.

Travis makes a return to the apartment and grabs the last box and my overnight bag. Before he heads out the door, he looks up at me as if to make sure I’m okay. I give him a little smile as I extract myself from Matty’s embrace.

I head into the little apartment and give it a once over to make sure all of my belongings are accounted for. Not seeing anything else, I head back into the kitchen.

“So, how did he take the news?” Matty asks as he makes a pointed look down to my belly.

“Surprisingly well. He’s being super supportive and offering to help as much as he can. It’s weird, you know?”

“Considering you refuse to take help from anyone? Yeah, that’s a little weird to see you actually accepting it.”

“I accept help from you. I just don’t accept it from my parents. There’s a difference,” I defend.

“True, but it’s still weird seeing my fiercely independent Josselyn accepting help from a basic stranger.”

“He’s not a stranger, Matty.”

“He isn’t so much now, but he was that night you got yourself knocked up, doll,” he replies with a dramatic head nod.

Before I can respond, Travis walks back into the apartment. “Is that everything?” he asks with his hands stuffed casually in the front pockets of his jeans. Lucky jeans.

“Yep. I want to run over to the storage shed and grab something if that’s okay with you?” I ask recalling that he had that large stereo system in his living room. I love music, all music, and I’d love to grab my CD collection from the storage unit.

“Sure,” he responds and heads towards the door to wait on me.

Matty follows me to the door, down the stairs, and out the front door of the apartment building that I called home for a single night. Travis waits at the bottom of the steps for me.

When I turn back to face Matty, he has his big, bad, mean-guy face plastered back on as he looks over my shoulder at Travis, which is completely comical because Matty doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. Well, unless someone is wearing stripes with polka dots.

“Knock it off,” I whisper as I give him a final hug.

“I have to, Joss. I want him to know that trouble awaits him if he hurts you,” he replies with a gentle kiss on my cheek.

I start to turn towards Travis and notice he’s returning up the stairs to us. I tense as he walks straight up to Matty and extends his hand once more.

“Nice to meet you, Matty. I’m sure we’ll be seeing much more of each other.”

Matty takes Travis’s offered hand but continues his stare-down. “Oh, I’m sure we will. I’ll be visiting Joss frequently. Unless you have a problem with that?” he asks with his perfectly manicured eyebrow raised up in question.

“Of course I don’t. You’re welcome at my place anytime.”

“Good,” Matty says as he releases Travis’s hand. “Oh, and if you hurt her in any way, shape, or form, I will hunt you down and deliver a whoopin’ on you so bad that your mother won’t be able to recognize you.”

I gasp loudly, completely horrified, and my eyes are so wide it borders on painful. “Matty!”

But Travis doesn’t bat an eye as he responds to Matty’s threat with a friendly, non-threatening smile. “I like you, Matty. I like your loyalty to your friends. And, I promise I won’t do anything to hurt her. You have my word,” Travis says as he continues to look Matty straight in the eye.

After a few tense moments of this awkward stare-down in which I look back and forth between the two of them while holding my breath, Matty finally steps back and says, “Good.” And as dramatically as he entered the picture, Matty exits and head back up the stairs towards his apartment.

Once we’re settled back inside the cab of the truck and we’re pulling into the street heading towards the storage unit, Travis finally looks over and smiles. “Well, that was interesting.”

I snort a laugh. “Yeah. Matty’s definitely an interesting individual. But that’s the reason I love him.”

After Travis loads up the box containing CD’s of some of my favorite artists, we’re heading back towards Rivers Edge. On the outskirts of town, Travis turns his attention back to me.

“Still feeling okay?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised I haven’t gotten sick from breakfast. Maybe the worst has past,” I reply.

“Hopefully. Do you still feel like making a pit stop? I want to show you something.”

“Sure.”

Ten minutes later, we’re pulling into some sort of make-shift driveway to the small slice of land that is surrounded by timber. He drives the pick-up over the ruts and divots on the rough ground that looks to have been made from some sort of truck or tractor.

Travis shuts off the truck and hops out. Once he opens my door and helps me out, I turn around one hundred and eighty degrees to survey the beautiful land.

“What is this place?” I ask.

“This is my place. This is going to be my house. I broke ground on it on Saturday,” he tells me, the pride evident in his voice.

“You’re building this place?” I ask in awe as I take in the deep hole in the ground in front of us.

Travis reaches inside the cab of the truck and pulls out rolls of blueprints for the house. With them in hand, he shuts the door and takes my hand, steering me around to the hood of the truck. He then rolls out the blueprints and lays out his entire dream in front of me.

“This is it. It’s a log cabin. I bought this land a little over a year ago for this house. It’ll have a full, finished basement which is the deep hole you see in the ground now. The concrete crew was here Saturday and started to form up the walls of the basement. I won’t be able to finish it right away, but eventually, I’ll get to it.”

I study the amazing blueprints in front of me as I take in the images of his designs for the first time.

“This is amazing, Travis.” I say as I turn back and survey the big hole in front of us. “Tell me about it,” I say as I stare at the place where the house will eventually sit.

Travis turns to the blueprints and starts to point to the entryway. “Here is - “

“No,” I interrupt. “Tell me about it this way. I want to imagine it as you describe it to me.”

He turns towards the hole and starts with the part closest to us. He walks us just a few steps to the left and begins, “Here is the entryway. I want a big, wrap-around porch on the front. Somewhere I can have a couple of rocking chairs and maybe a swing. You’ll walk into a small entry way that leads straight into the living room. I want a big stone fireplace in the corner. It’ll be an open loft room so you’ll be able to see the stairs on the back wall that lead up to the bedroom.”

I close my eyes as he describes the house to me. I can almost picture exactly how it will look when it’s all said and done. There’s a faint smile on my lips as I imagine the house. “The kitchen and dining room are to the right. There will be a wall between the living room and the dining room, but the dining room and kitchen will be open. I want deep, rich cabinets and light countertops. There will be a center island in the kitchen and a bar area for eating. Between the living room and kitchen is a short hallway. Under the stairs that go up in the living room is a set of stairs going down to the basement. Eventually, I want a bathroom in the basement too. The plumber was here on Saturday and started to get all the plumbing ready. He’s going to go ahead and put the plumbing in down in the basement so all I need to do is finish it when I’m ready.”

I watch Travis speak, studying him intently. “Go on,” I tell me.

“On the other side of the basement stairs is a half bathroom, a laundry room, and two bedrooms with a full bathroom between them. There’s also a back door behind the kitchen that leads out to the breezeway and double garage.”

“It sounds nice. Tell me about the master bedroom,” I say with a coy smile.

“That’s my favorite part of the house,” he replies with his own smile. “Up the stairs are two doors. One is a small office area and the other is the master bedroom. I actually envision double doors for the master bedroom. Inside to the left is a large walk-in closet with plenty of room for clothes and shoes,” he adds with a wink. “There’s also a large master bath with a shower stall and a garden tub. The garden tub actually is underneath a wall of windows that faces the back wooded area there,” he tells me as he points to the heavily timbered part of the property. “No one has access to that area from anywhere but from the front of the property so it’s completely secluded and private. Then, there are the open beams on the slanted ceiling and the French doors on the back wall that leads to a private small balcony.”