Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 160732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
It was then my brain made the unfortunate decision to wonder if he loved the feel of Nails and he didn’t want anything between him and her.
Which would mean whoever she shared a bed with would be sharing a bed with me.
Oh God!
“Maybe we shouldn’t have sex,” I suggested, and his face moved back an inch.
“Come again?”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have sex,” I repeated.
“Now, babe, that isn’t funny,” he said in a very firm, very unamused way.
Okay, I needed to try something else.
“Or use condoms all the time, for added protection, even when I’m on the pill.”
“Still not funny,” he returned.
I bent my neck and looked down at my margarita.
I could be pregnant. I shouldn’t be drinking.
Oh God.
I pushed back against his arm and sat in my chair muttering, “Like I need one more thing to worry about.”
His arm was still around my shoulders, but it became a hand massaging the back of my neck.
“Clara, honey, listen to me.” I looked at him and he carried on, “There’s nothin’ to worry about until there’s somethin’ to worry about. Drink your drink. Relax. And remember, I promised to have your back.”
“Right,” I whispered.
“Right,” he repeated, again in that very firm way.
I sighed.
I needed to call Lorie. Or Minnie. Or Pinky. I needed biker babe advice.
“I need to call one of the girls,” I blurted.
“You need to loosen up, drink your marg and sit out here with me. Tomorrow, you can call one of the girls.”
It was then I realized he was very dictatorial. He issued a lot of orders and told me what to do often.
Then again, he was also usually right and now was no different.
I didn’t need to mess up Lorie, Pinky, or Minnie’s Saturday nights with this (possibly) dire news.
And anyway, he was right about something else.
I had enough to worry about. I didn’t need to worry about stuff that might not happen.
I sighed again, did what I was told and sipped my margarita.
Then something occurred to me.
I turned my head to see he was surveying the landscape and asked, “When did you do this recon?”
“The other night.”
“What other night?” I pushed.
“Don’t know,” he replied. “Thursday, maybe.”
Thursday?
He’d waited since Thursday to bring this up?
“Is that why you asked me if I wanted children yesterday?”
“Yep,” he told the view.
My heart started beating fast again. “So you were attempting to ascertain if I’d want to keep a child we may have created?”
He turned his head to me. “Babe, do you listen to me?”
“Why would you ask if I wanted children if you weren’t trying to find out if I wanted children?”
My voice was rising.
“You need to let it go,” he ordered.
“You need to answer my question,” I fired back.
His fingers massaging my neck stopped massaging and just squeezed.
“Then, yeah, Toots, I wanted to know if you wanted kids because I wanted to know, if I knocked you up, which way you’d lean. And, even though you look about ready to have a coronary, I’ll tell you where I stand on that. You got my kid inside you, it wouldn’t make me happy if you wanted to get rid him. You and me, we’d make a gorgeous kid.”
That’s when I actually started hyperventilating.
Buck either didn’t notice or didn’t care because he kept talking.
“And, gotta say, Toots, last night, the way you took care of Tatie, means today I would be even less happy if you got rid of my kid. You’re gonna make a great mom.”
Gonna?
I didn’t speak because I was experiencing the odd sensation of choking on nothing.
It didn’t seem like Buck could shut up, and I liked listening to him. He had a beautiful voice. And most of the time he used it to say good things.
But right now, I needed him to shut up.
“Also gotta say, seein’ you take care of Tat, how you are with Gear, how he is with you, and my son is friendly, but he’s not stupid. He goes cautious, especially when shit is important. But he blatantly likes you. After the shit went down with Kristy and the shit she’s pullin’ now with the kids, wouldn’t suck havin’ a kid and raisin’ him…with you.”
When shit is important.
Wouldn’t suck, havin’ a kid and raisin’ him…with you.
Right.
I needed lots and lots of oxygen because I was going to pass out.
Buck watched me breathe.
Then he asked, “Do you need CPR?”
“No,” I panted.
He grinned.
Then his hand went away from my neck but only so his arm could go around my shoulders and pull me close, tucking me under his arm. His eyes went back to the scenery and he sipped his beer.
Okay, it couldn’t be avoided.
I had to get into it.
So I deliberated quickly about how to get into it, and then I got into it.
“Considering your two children are right now in the house behind us, I know you weren’t a virgin before you and I…” I paused to find the right words, “enjoyed each other.”