Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Her head snaps in my direction, and she narrows her eyes. “No, I didn’t expect to see you, though.”
My brows rise at her words.
“You came to see me?” Jacinta asks, and her hand slides into mine, where I clutch it protectively.
My mother’s eyes don’t miss the movement as she watches and nods. “Yes, I did.”
“What for?” I ask.
“I’m direct, harsh, and sometimes mean.” Her nose is pushed up as she says the words. “And I want to take the time to apologize to Jacinta personally for my words.”
I turn to look at Jacinta and see a small smile on her face.
“Thank you for taking the time to come over and apologize. I just want you to know, I don’t want your son for his money. And for you to think that before you even got to know me … well, it hurt.”
My mother’s eyes fall to me before she nods. “I understand. My girls always like to point out that I can be quite rude and harsh. So once more, I apologize and will not speak ill of you again. And I’m glad my son has found someone who makes him happy. Like Paige did.”
“Paige sounds like a wonderful girl, and I’m sorry I’m not her. But I don’t think Beckham would want me to be like Paige anyway.”
I look down at Jacinta. “No. No, I do not.” I lean down and kiss her forehead.
“You’ll start coming again? To family lunches?” my mother asks in a hopeful voice.
“With Oliver,” I tell her.
“Yes, nice boy, that kid. Well mannered. You’ve done well raising him.” She turns and walks back to her car and slides in.
“Is your mother affectionate?” Jacinta asks as we watch her drive away.
“No. Only with my father.”
“You two are a lot alike, you know. Blunt, rude—” I reach for her at her words, cutting them off as I throw her over my shoulder and carry her inside the house.
Then I smack her ass, hard, for those words.
Even though I know they are true.
“Your tits are getting bigger.”
“Oh, fuck off,” she says as she looks down at them. Then in one swift movement, she is off and running to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.
With quick steps, I run after her and knock on it.
“Leave me alone.”
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask, clearly confused.
Jacinta doesn’t answer. Instead, she makes me wait. I lean on the door, and she opens it with a white stick in her hand. Her eyes are glassy, and she looks up at me with wide eyes. She’s rubbing her forehead, and there are no words.
“What’s wrong? What’s that?” I nod to the stick and go to reach for her.
“I’m pregnant.” The words slip from her mouth.
It’s late. Oliver’s asleep, and I am staring at a white stick as if it may grow a head.
“Fuck.”
I look up and search her face.
“I’m on birth control. I told you this. So …” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “Whoever thinks they’re going to be in that small percentage of where it fails? That was not me.” She answers her own question as she walks past with the stick still in her hand and waving it around.
“Move in with me.” The words leave my mouth before I have a chance to think about it, and she looks up at me with teary eyes.
“That’s your response? Move in with me?”
“Yes. Is it … wrong?” I ask her, confused.
“It’s just … when I told Anderson I was pregnant, he asked me how much money I needed to get rid of it.” She wipes away a stray tear. “It’s a very different reaction and not one I was expecting.”
“I’m nothing like that piece of shit.”
She hiccups. “I know.”
“I hope in a good way,” I say. Walking over to her, I place my hand under her chin and make her look up at me. “Move in with me?” I ask her again in a low tone.
“You don’t want to live here?” she asks. She hasn’t wanted to go back to mine, as she doesn’t want to break Oliver’s routine. So, I happily stay here. Oliver is a priority for her, just as she is to me.
“Where are we going to put the baby?”
“It could be false symptoms and a false positive test,” she blurts out.
“It’s not. Your tits are bigger, and you’ve been more emotional.” I wipe her face and lean down to kiss her tears away. “My sister was a bitch when she was pregnant.”
“Are you calling me a bitch?”
I laugh. “No, but I’ve made the decision. You two are moving in with me. I have the room, and Oliver will be happy there. He loves my place, which will now be our place.”
“I don’t know …” I kiss her to shut her up. “I know what you’re doing,” she says as I continue to kiss her.