Entice (21 page)

I fall in love with him all over again in that moment. “It suits you.” I pucker, offering my lips ‘cause I can’t reach his on my own.

He pauses, withholding his kiss. “Do you really like it? I didn’t want to overstep, but I saw it in a magazine and thought—”

“Magazine?”

He shrugs. “Doctor’s office. They really should be ashamed of how long they make people wait. Why even set appointment times if you’re never gonna hit them?”

“I don’t know,” I giggle at his exaggerated frustration, not at all a cover for the fact he’s embarrassed he reads the magazines. “But yes, I love this nursery, and you could never overstep because there is no line.”

“No lines, very promising,” he teases, pinching my butt.

“You are awful,” I titter, shaking my head. “We’re standing in the nursery.”

“That’s bad?” His brows furrow, but he recovers quickly. “I mean, that’s bad. Ok, so I thought tomorrow after class we could go pick out a crib together. I didn’t figure I’d push my luck, picking too much. And then the name thing. I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about being a huge hypocrite.” He grabs the back of his neck, ducking his face.

“You know, I never have to worry about being mad at you. You get mad enough at yourself, for nothing, for both us.” I poke him in the stomach, unsuccessfully as my finger bends back against the firmness there, but he does lift his head to me now, grinning. “We can go look at cribs, sounds fun. Did you know, my gramma told me a story once, that when my mom was born, unplanned, eleven months after her older sister, they were so poor that they turned a dresser to the wall and used a drawer? True story.”

He scowls. “We’re getting a crib.”

“I know, silly, I’ve just always thought it was a cool story.”

“Cool story, babe, but do not tell it again.” He grumbles under his breath, something about babies falling from trees and being shoved in drawers, then finally returns the kiss I’ve been waiting for…but with a tight, grumpy mouth. “You done in here for now?”

“I guess so,” I take another look around, sighing wistfully.

“We can stay in here all night if you want.”

“No, I’m good, for now. Hey! Let’s walk over so I can thank the girls. This was so sweet of them.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty great. Remind me to tell you that story one day, how Laney and Whitley met and became friends, it’s a classic.” He shakes his head and chuckles. “But for now, you go on.” He caresses my cheek, kissing my forehead. “I’ll unpack the car and meet you down there.”

“You sure?” I pout, pathetically not wanting to be without him. After a few days locked away in Wonderland together, you get clingy I guess. “I could wait, and help.”

“Nope, you go. I’ll even start the laundry. Anything to buy time from hearing the play by play of every brushstroke from three possessed women.”

“Fine, but hurry.”

His right brow lifts. “Why Miss Emmett, are you jonesing for your man?” One hand snakes around and grabs my ass, pulling me against him. “I can fix that for ya.”

“Not in the nursery!” I shriek, disgusted, pushing at his chest.

I’m swept up before I can blink, both his strong hands lifting me and turning to leave the room. “I can fix that too. Pick a room.”

Damn he’s strong, and sexy…and so sly. I’m tempted, but resist. “Babe, I need to go say thank you.”

“He knew you were gonna say that.” He sets me down and looks at his dick with a sigh. “Sorry, bud. I was rootin’ for ya.”

Chapter 19

One Screw Over the Cuckoo’s Nest

—Sawyer—

A
t first, I thought Em had a specific crib in mind and knew where to get it and that was the reason she boycotted Babies ‘R Us, laughed at Brooke Ashley’s Boutique, and refused to exit the vehicle at Four Monkeys. I finally told her just to tell me where to go.

All I got was right, left, straight…which is how she got away with stopping me in front of a resale shop.

Am I snob? No. I wore shoes from The Salvation Army after one of my foster brothers outgrew them.

Am I gonna let my baby sleep on used shit? Hell no.

“Emmett, what the hell are we doing here? That mattress has a piss stain!” It does—the one mattress they choose to display out front and it’s been pissed on? Come on.

“Sawyer,” her soothing tone tries to placate me, “babies need lots of really expensive things and I have a budget. Alex will never know how fancy the crib was, but I bet he or she would notice if their ear keep hurting or their belly was empty. I have a budget based specifically on priorities.”

I love her planning, her organization and sensibility. I also love her, which is why I’m not going to bellow harshly at her. “Em,” I mock her calm tone, “there is no ‘I’ in “our baby’s budget exceeds pee-soaked hand-me-downs.” Oh yeah, I threw her some air quotes.

“Do you know what diapers, formula and doctor visits cost? Or medicine? Please,” she rubs her forehead, “don’t fight me on this. Let’s go in and see what they have.” Quibbling, I get out and walk around to her door, helping her out. “I’m sure we’ll find something great, trust me.”

An older woman spots the two suckers and zones in on us right when we walk in, and now we’re stuck. “Hi, can I help you guys?”

“We’re looking for a crib, and a new mattress.” She turns and smirks at me.

“Back here.” Sanford’s…daughter leads us through too tight, cluttered aisles. “Boy or girl?” she asks.

“We don’t know. We decided to let it be a surprise!” Emmett exclaims back to her.

Oh, I’m gonna spank her butt, the little twerp, saying it like sunshine rolling off her tongue…now. Lemme tell ya something—she did not agree with me on that without a whole lot of goading. Little in life surprises me, and I wanted this one, bad. And through my powers of prowlsuasion…I won.

“Cribs are pretty neutral and with some plain bedding, you should be fine. Okay, here’s some brand new mattresses, still in the plastic. And the cribs,” she takes another right turn, “are here. Now the used models are the ones on the floor, put together. But we do have some in boxes, mostly returns or overstocks.”

“Mattress in plastic is fine,” I pipe in, “but no used or returned crib, so let’s see the overstocks.”

Emmett’s eyes bulge and she scrunches her eyebrows at me. “Be nice,” she mouths.

How was I not nice?

“We have the—”

“Too high,” I comment. “Baby’d be practically in the air.”

“Okayyy, how about this one? It’s—”

“Too low. Mama’s a shorty. She’d fall over the edge on top of the baby.”

“What about—”

“What about that one?” I point. “Em, you like that one?”

“Oh, me?” She glowers at me, muttering under her breath something about her being able to make a decision. “Which one?”

“This one,” I walk over and tap my finger on the box, “the Marlowe Sleigh Crib.”

“Sawyer,” she leans into me and whispers, “it’s four hundred dollars! At a resale shop!”

“So? That seems reasonable, babe.”

“My budget for a crib is $175 max,” she clips.

“That’s when it was your budget. Now it’s our budget, which we’ve discussed. Now do you like this one or not?”

“Of course I do; it’s beautiful. But that leaves more than half for you to pay. That’s not fair, and too much.”

“Come here.” I snag her and drag her into me, surrounding that teeny frame with my own very large one. “I sold my racing bike for more than I had in it, so I have some extra cash. If you love that crib, I want to buy it for you, for Alex.”

“Why?” She tries to escape but I hold her even tighter, denying her. “You love to race.”

“I don’t love anything inanimate, and I far from love racing, but I do love you,” I dip my head and speak to her stomach, “and you. So why would I need bullshit races? They just filled a void until I found you.”

She’s speechless, and that includes insta-watery eyes, so I take charge—which started the minute we walked through the door—in case anyone was still unsure.

“We’ll take the Marlowe Sleigh and one wrapped mattress.” I smile at the saleswoman.

“Fabulous!” she says happily. “Let’s go to the front to check out. I’ll have someone bring them up.”

“Oh,” I stop short, “we’re in Mama’s car; it’s never gonna fit. Do you deliver?”

“Certainly, for a fifty dollar fee.”

“Ring ‘er up,” I say, turning my attention back to Em. “Mad?”

“No, I just think—”

I cut her off with a chaste kiss. “No’s enough.”

I feel great, like I’m really a part of things, so it really can’t be helped when I dip her in the middle of the store and kiss the breath from her. Her face is pink with embarrassment when I raise her back up.

“I love you, Emmett.”

“I love you too,” she simpers, pretending to straighten her hair back in place.

“And that crib kicks ass!” I stick out my tongue and wave “rock on” hands, not a bit fucking ashamed that my baby got the coolest pad in the land.

“
M
otherf—”

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” Emmett asks from the doorway, sneaking up behind me.

“This crib! I swear to God there’re parts missing and there’s subliminal messages in the directions. It can’t possibly be this hard.”

“Why don’t you take a break? I have to get to work and don’t want to have to worry about you blowing a blood vessel. Specifically,” she points, “one of those pulsing out of your forehead right now.”

“You don’t work tonight.” I should know, I make the schedule.

“I do now. Laney called me because your phone is in there on the counter and Dane couldn’t get you. Austin and Jessica have both called in sick tonight.” She grins and gives me an exaggerated wink. “Interesting development, I’d say, but that puts them way short, so I said I’d go in.”

I know Emmett, and she won’t turn down the extra money, so that means I’m going in too. Like hell my woman’s walking around a bar while I sit at home. “What time did you say we’d be there?”

“We? I didn’t volunteer you.”

“If Austin’s out, somebody’s got to run the music. Nobody else knows how to do that.”

So that’s a little white lie. Several know how, but I don’t want her to think I’m going to “keep an eye on her.” Women tend to get all shrieky about that shit, a.k.a. I’ve seen Laney do it a hundred times.

“As soon as possible was assumed, I think, so I guess you better get ready.” She turns and hurries in the bathroom. “I need ten minutes!” she calls.

I’m ready now, so I use the time to stare, dumbfounded, at the instructions again. I refuse to ask one of the guys for help, but damn…good thing I have a while. Maybe there’s a hotline you can call, 1-888-Sure Feel Better About Putting My Baby in Here if I Used Every Screw?

“You ready?” She appears back in the doorway and I let the pamphlet fall from my hand, mouth agape with an audible groan.

“New outfit?”

She surveys herself, looking down at the two sizes too small pink shorts with a white tie at the waist and a tight white t-shirt; an outfit guaranteed to rake in the tips. “Not at all, why?”

“You’re a walking wet dream. I’d have remembered that outfit.” I’m flicking my tongue ring on the inside of my bottom teeth, trying not to go crazy on her and demand she change. Women get shrieky bout that shit too.

“I know the t-shirt’s snug, but they all are these days. And the shorts,” she tugs at the bottom of them, trying to miraculously create more material, “it gets so hot in there, you know? But I could change.”

Hold up. Does this ever really happen, the girl offers to change rather than throw a shit fit that you said anything?

The Crew girls had not prepared me for this reaction.

“Whatever you’re comfortable in is perfect, Em. We’ll get ya some bigger shirts tomorrow.”

Chapter 20

Save the Last Song

—Sawyer—

T
he club’s packed when we get there, mostly because ladies drink for a dollar all night. Dane’s behind the bar, so of course there’s a line, and what the hell are we listening to? Is that house music?

“Babe, come back out here with me a sec.” I cinch her hand, ensuring she stays with me, and go back to the door. “Sheldon,” I call him over to me, “twenty more guys, okay? There are plenty of girls inside. Then max it out and come in to bounce.”

“You got it.” He gives Emmett the once over and smiles. “Hey, Emmett.”

“Hey, how’d you do?”

“Eighty-four!” He beams, giving my mama a knuckle bump.

“Oh yay! The man’s a genius!” She giggles.

“K, get inside, Shel, we need ya, man.” I grimace slightly, pulling Emmett back with me. “What was that?”

“He was nervous about a big exam. Sounds like he nailed it. What was that?” She crinkles up her face and puffs out her chest, bowing and flexing her arms, badly mocking me, I think. “You jealous?”

“No,” I scoff, shaking my head like it’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. “No.”

“Good,” she loops her arm through mine, “’cause that would be a major waste of your time.”

“Uh huh,” I mumble. “Ok, so Dane’s not fast enough behind the bar for dollar night. I’ll pull Kasey behind the bar, put Dane and Sheldon on the floor, you and Darby on tables, and I’ll get the music. Sounds right, right?”