Stripped Down (34 page)

“You knew I was late and you didn’t say anything?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Was I supposed to send a card?”

“No, but I wish Mother Nature would. Bitch,” she added on a mumble, looking down.

Seconds later, the egg timer filled the air with its shrill ring.

“Oh, shit,” she whispered. She was pale, and she glanced toward the kitchen where she’d left the test on the island.

“Come on.” I slipped my fingers between hers and pulled her toward the kitchen.

Shit, my heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. I’d never been so scared of any test result in my life—mostly because I didn’t realize I was taking this fucking test until last night when she realized her little friend hadn’t stopped by this month.

“I can’t.” She stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. “I’m scared, Beck.”

“I’m not looking at it unless you do,” I warned her. “And you’re not going to get an answer any other way.”

“All right, all right. You seem to be forgetting
I’m
the one that’ll have to push a person out of my vagina again.”

“Would it help if I got one of those machines that makes me feel the pain of childbirth?”

She hit me with a dry look. “It would have probably helped a few weeks ago.”

“Just look at the damn test, Cassie.”

“I’m going to punch you in the dick, Beckett.”

“You probably should have done that a few weeks ago.” I grinned and pulled her into the room. “Come on, baby.” I grabbed the test, keeping the result turned downward, and looked at her. “Together. We’ll look together.”

She opened her mouth, but she sighed. She had to look. She knew she did. But if she was this flustered, I wanted to bet that she already knew what it was about to tell her.

“Fine,” she said quietly. “But if I vomit on you, it’s on you.”

My lips twitched up to one side. Her heart wasn’t in that excuse for a threat in the slightest. “I’ll shoulder the responsibility, don’t worry. Are you ready?”

“No.”

“Are you ever going to be ready?”

“No.”

“Good lord, woman. It’s a bit late not to be ready.”

She glared at me. “Flip it over before I stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.”

I paused. “Blondie, I love you, but I really don’t want you sticking your pee stick up my ass.”

“Beckett, you’re starting to piss me off.”

“Are you sure you need this?” I waved the stick. “Because you seem real hormonal to me.”

“Ugh!” She grabbed the stick from me and stared at it. Instantly, she froze, a flush rising in her cheeks. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and no sooner had it gone than she was running her tongue across her lips. She looked up and met my gaze. “You did that deliberately, you little shit.”

“Guilty as charged.” I grinned widely. “Now tell me what it says.”

Wordlessly, she spun the test and held it up.

Two lines.

She was pregnant.

We were having a baby.

And as I met her gorgeous eyes, she looked more terrified than I’d ever seen her.

I gently pulled the test from her grasp and set it down on the island behind me. Then I curved my hand around her neck and touched my lips against hers. It was a gentle kiss, perhaps the gentlest I’d ever kissed her, but it said everything I wanted to say.

Almost everything.

“Cassie,” I said softly.

“I’m scared,” she said back before I could say another word. “I’m so scared, Beck.”

I slowly shook my head and cupped her face, lifting it so she couldn’t look anywhere other than at me. “I know, baby. I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. But you know what? It’s okay. We can be scared together. We will be scared together. You’re not doing it alone this time. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m not leaving you alone for the next several months. You’re gonna have to start brushing your teeth while I use the toilet, Blondie.”

She tried to give me a hard look, but it didn’t work. Instead, she tilted her face into my hand. “I know I’m not alone. It’s just scary. Ciara...”

“Asked me last week for a baby brother or sister,” I said with a grimace.

“She did what? And you didn’t tell me? Wait—what?”

I chuckled. “She walked up to me while I made coffee and waited until I’d just taken a mouthful to say, “Daddy, can I have a baby brother or sister now? I want someone to push into the pool.””

Cassie blinked hard. “And you said what exactly?”

“Once I’d wiped up the coffee I spat out and got over my choking fit, I told her I’d talk to you about it.”

“Oh god.”

“So yeah. You can tell her about this.”

“Oh no.” Cassie stepped back, but she jabbed her finger into my chest. “No, no, no. You said you’d talk to me about it. You can tell her I agreed.”

At least bringing that gem up has taken her off the fear ledge. “Whoa, now. That’s not fair. Why can’t you tell her you agreed?”

“Because,” she said with a smile, “When you signed the adoption papers three days ago to legally be her dad, you also signed up for, sometimes, getting the shitty end of the deal. So this shitty end of the deal is on you, given that my uterus is about to expand to an ungodly size and I have to push a human out of myself.” She slapped me in the chest with an extra brightness to her eyes and skipped off into the hall. “Oh, and I know what you did there. Still panicking, for what it’s worth.”

I sighed.

Damn it.

Ciara blinked at me. She was Cassie’s double in every possible way, and the look she was giving me right now was no different.

“A baby,” she said. “You and Mommy made a baby already?”

“Yes,” I said slowly. “It was a surprise.”

“Like when you got married.”

Yeah... her knowing about that wasn’t my finest moment, but what could I say when she asked when we were getting married? I panicked. “Yes. Like when we got married.”

“I’m still very mad at you for that, you know,” she said with her six-year-old righteousness. “I wanted to be a bridesmaid.”

“I know you did, little one.” Cassie perched on the sofa next to her. “And we’ll see if we can do it again. Properly. So you can be a bridesmaid.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Really?” I echoed. “Because last time I brought it up, you weren’t exactly nice about the idea.”

“It’s the hormones,” she said, glancing at me. “They’re dangerous. Now you’re gonna have to behave.”

“You’re milking it already, woman.”

She gave me a death look. “I get to milk it.”

“She does.” CiCi nodded her head solemnly. “Mrs. Barton at school is having a baby. She’s fat and grumpy all the time, and Mr. Leonard said she’s not really grumpy, she’s just milking it because she’s pregnant and wants all the cookies.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Should your teachers be saying that to you?”

She raised an eyebrow in a “duh” expression. “We were listening to him talk to Mrs. Marlow.”

“Of course you were,” I muttered.

“When are you having the baby, Mommy?” She steered the conversation right back on track. “Is it a brother or a sister? How big is it?”

Cassie blinked just like CiCi had not five minutes ago. “I’m not completely sure, I don’t know, and super teeny tiny right now,” she answered expertly. “I have to go to the doctor and see him. Then he’ll tell me when the baby is coming.”

“So...tomorrow?”

“Uh, no. It’ll be after your birthday. Babies take a while to grow.”

CiCi frowned. “So why are they so simple to make?”

Cassie swung her gaze to me with a expectant glint in her eyes.

Right.

My turn.

Shit.

“I really don’t know,” I answered. I was not getting into the birds and bees. “You could ask Nanny or come to the doctor with us. We can make the appointment when you’re not at school. I’m sure the doctor will tell you why.”

She considered this for a very long moment which included her tapping her finger against her chin. I had no idea where she’d gotten that from. We really needed to restrict Netflix. “Okay. I’ll go to the doctor. Can I go and do my homework now?”

“Sure. Shout if you need help.” Cassie kissed the side of her head and patted her leg.

CiCi stood and looked between us. “It’s math homework,” she said slowly, her gaze landing on me. “So I should call for Dad, right?”

My heart still skipped whenever she called me that.

“Yep,” I said with a grin. “Mommy can’t multiply her way out of the ice-cream aisle.”

“Mommy can’t add her way out of the dollar section at Target without filling an entire shopping cart,” Cassie muttered as CiCi grabbed her backpack and ran out.

“Now that’s a true statement if I ever heard one,” I agreed, still grinning. “At least now you have an excuse to do some shopping.”

“I don’t know. I still have a lot of CiCi’s stuff,” she hedged, trailing off. She looked away from me, out of the window, and I waited.

I knew that look too well. She needed to put her thoughts into words. So I waited until she could talk.

“I feel guilty,” she finally said. “This baby is going to have all sorts of things CiCi never did. A family, new things all the time...”

“Stop.” I crooked my finger and motioned for her to come to me. She did, and I pulled her down onto my lap in the huge, comfy armchair. I tucked her into my body and pressed my lips to her temple. “Cassie, baby, it doesn’t matter. Ciara doesn’t remember that stuff. What she remembers is you. No matter what’s happened since she was born, she’ll always have one thing in common with her little brother or sister. You.” I tapped Cassie’s nose.

She smiled. “I suppose we’ll have to finally give in on the new bed she wants.”

I snorted as the mid-height monstrosity complete with a slide and tent came to mind. “Yeah, well, I’m calling Uncle West to come and build that sucker.”

“Oh no. Daddy duties equals building a bed.”

“And Uncle duties equal helping. I’m pretty sure it’s in a rulebook somewhere.”

“You’re making it up.”

“I’ll never reveal the secrets of Dad Life.”

“Three days, Beckett.” She shook her head. “Three days and you’re a pro.”

“Maybe, but I’ve still never changed a diaper in my life, so consider that before you allow your previous statement to stand.”

“There are a bajillion kids in your family. How have you never changed a diaper?”

“I’m sharp and scrappy. Well-timed bathroom breaks and being a fast runner always worked in my favor.”

She pursed her lips. “Hmm.”

“Hmm? What’s hmm?” I tightened my grip on her a little.

She looped one arm around the back of my neck and touched her other hand to my chest. “Just a thought.” She touched her lips to mine.

I closed my eyes, relishing the softness of her mouth.

“Thank you for loving us,” she whispered against my lips.

“It is a bit of a full-time job. You’re a handful, woman, and I can only see that getting worse.”

“You’re not getting on the good side of my hormones, you fucker.”

I grinned, cupping her chin. “I love you, Mrs. Cruz. Thanks for putting up with my shit.”

Her eyes flashed with laughter, and a second later, those giggles rang out around the room. “You’re welcome.”

I kissed her again, this time more deeply, tasting lemonade and cherries on her tongue.

“Daaaaaaaaaddy!” Ciara yelled. “I’m stuuuuuuuuuuuck!”

I dropped my head back from Cassie with a sigh. “And it was just getting good.”

Cassie grinned. “Wait until we’re having sex and the baby cries right before you—”

“Nope.” I lifted her off my knee in one swoop, stood, and then put her down in the armchair. “Don’t even finish that sentence. Let me keep my illusions a little while longer.”

“You’re crazy, Beck!” she yelled after me.

“Only for you, Blondie!” I yelled right back, smiling to myself as I walked into the kitchen and found Ciara sitting at the table.

“I’m stuck,” she said, this time a lot quieter. Her eyes pleaded with me for help.

I sighed dramatically and sat down. I reached for her sheets of paper. “All right, princess. But I’m not doing it for you this time. That won’t work again.”

She giggled. Then leaned into me and squeezed my arm tight.

“What’s that for?” I asked, looking down at her.

Her big, brown eyes gazed back at me. “For being the best daddy in the world.”

“Don’t tell your grandpa. He’s strong enough to kick your butt now.”

She grinned. “I love you, Daddy.”

Another goddamn heart-skip. “I love you too, princess. Let’s kick some math butt.”

Read Mia and West’s story in STRIPPED BARE, available now on all ebook retailers.

What do you get when you mix a bachelorette party, the queen of dating disasters, and a stripper so hot he was forged from the fires of hell? Screwed. You get screwed....

Cocky. Commanding. Powerful. Relentless.

Those four words all summed up West Rykman perfectly.

So did filthy, dirty, sexy, and addictive.

He was supposed to be my one night stand...not my new marketing client.

He was definitely not supposed to be back inside my pants, not that anybody told him that.

I knew one thing: What West Rykman wanted, West Rykman got.