Page 44 of More, Daddy (Bluebell Bruisers #3)

As they approach the table, Riley slips out of the booth to make room for Jake. “You were supposed to catch the kiss, babe,” she says to him, sinking into his chest after he gets settled on the vinyl seat.

“That’s… embarrassing,” Jake says, kissing Riley’s cheek. She erupts in laughter, rubbing her very pregnant belly.

“Your friends know you do cutesy romantic stuff, babe. I mean, they do it, too.” She rubs her stomach again. “After all, it’s how we all got here.”

Dolly, also pregnant, places a hand on her belly. Clara June, in the earliest stages of her pregnancy, does the same.

We eat lunch together, the eight of us, talking and laughing, and enjoying the setting Saturday sun.

After we part ways, West and I head over to the Eat O Rama, where we sluggishly shop the aisles, our hands locked together, my head on his bicep .

“I like mundane things with you,” he says quietly, as the intercom comes on, announcing a sale on hot dogs.

“Me too,” I sigh. West pushes the cart into the next aisle—feminine products, beauty items and toilet paper.

He picks up a package of toilet paper and tosses into the cart.

My eyes catch on all the pink and white boxes, and Dolly’s comments from earlier come rushing back as I catch yet another yawn in my hand.

“I used all the detergent this morning, washing your pajamas and pink blanket,” West says, selecting a blue bottle of extra sensitive and gentle detergent. He presses a kiss to my temple, softly and privately adding, “Gentle for my baby.”

I nuzzle into his arm. “Thank you for doing my laundry, Daddy.” It feels weird using that word in public, but in the relatively empty store, it’s the perfect amount of safe and risky. I look up at West, analyzing dryer sheets, and say, “Hey, West, you wanna know what Dolly said at lunch today?”

“Hmm?” He asks, still reading the bright orange box.

“She said I have the four to five week look.” I watch his face, but it doesn’t change until he finally hears me, then faces me with confusion etched into deep grooves along his forehead and between his eyes.

“Four to five week look? Look of what?” he asks, dark eyes holding mine in a way that makes my stomach go all swoopy.

“Pregnancy.” I swallow, finding a knot of nerves in my throat. Suddenly, my palms are clammy, too. “She thought I was pregnant.”

I don’t know why my instincts tell me to watch his reaction. The same way some part of me knew that following West for a few months before getting the IT guy to put a keystroke recorder on his laptop was smart, watching him now feels smart, too. Crucial even.

The lines in his forehead fade. The question in his eyes dissipates. His lips part, but he doesn’t say anything. And before I know it, he’s abandoned the box of dryer sheets, and finds my hands with his, weaving and locking our fingers together.

Untangling our hands I step away from him. His face is suddenly full of concern, yet excitement quirks the corners of his eyes. A concerning reaction.

“West,” I breathe, unsure of what to say or do, or what I’m even feeling other than nauseous from the wave of confusion washing over me.

West abandons the cart and lifts me up, my legs looping his waist naturally.

He smooths his hands over my ass and up my back, dropping his forehead down, pressing it to mine.

He presses my back into the shelves, bottles of dish soap and packages of sponges falling to the tiled floor.

We don’t acknowledge the mess he’s making, mostly because we can’t take our eyes off of one another.

“Briar, honey, now listen to me, okay?” His voice is raspy, almost smokey, and I realize right then that this is what my daddy looks like when he’s worried.

I’ve seen him angry, I’ve seen him happy, I’ve seen him full of adoration, and I’ve seen him prideful.

But never worried. And his worry deeply concerns me.

I collect his face in my hands, loving the heat of his forehead pressed to mine, the feel of his breath against my lips. I nod. “I’m listening.”

I don’t question why I’m shoved into the shelves at the Eat O Rama, being intensely held and whispered to. I trust my daddy. I trust West.

“About a month ago, I don’t know, maybe less,” he says, and my mind circles on four to five weeks . “I was still so angry with you for lying about being Cadence. I wanted revenge, to make you feel what I felt.”

I nod, understanding completely. “Betrayal.”

He nods, kind of. “I fell in love with you on Veiled . I don’t know if you knew that already, or if you wondered, but I did.

I fell utterly in love with you, the way you made me laugh, and the way opening up seemed easy, and how vulnerable I could be with you.

It was everything. And that’s why I wanted to meet. Because I fell head over boots.”

Tears spring to my eyes and a few roll through my lashes and down my cheeks, but I let them, because West Dupont is admitting his love to me and I refuse to take my hands off of his beautiful face and change this moment.

“You’ve never said it,” I whisper, eyes burning from tears. “I always say it. I figured you’d say it when you were ready.” I kiss him. “When I moved in, I thought for sure but…” I shake my head. “I’m just so happy to hear it now.”

He shakes his head a little. “Falling in love with you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done, and loving you, Briar, makes complete and total sense.

” He presses his mouth to mine, and kisses me hard.

Our teeth gnash, our tongues tangle, and when he pulls back, his lips shine from my saliva.

“There were so many times I wanted to tell you but… I never wanted you to think I was telling you I love you to divert from or soften bad news.”

The edges of my smile droop. Bad news. “ What? ”

West clears his throat, and suddenly I can feel the metal shelf digging into my lower back, and a bottle of dish soap pressing into my ass. The air between us grows heavy, dense with an invisible electrical current that begs to explode.

“In my anger, in my rage, learning that the woman I fell for wasn’t even honest with me about who she was, I did something impulsive, and in my mind, at the time, I believed that it was also out of love.

That I’d be giving us both something we actually want, but I’d be able to hurt you with it, too. ”

Something tells me to shimmy out of his grip, but he doesn’t want to let me down, so I whine, slapping at his hands.

“West, put me down.” His eyes grow wide at my request, and my voice gets louder, so does my anger. “Put me down. Now.”

For once, our roles reverse, and West obeys.

My heart is racing. “What did you do?”

“I know it was wrong and I’m so sorry,” he continues, saying everything without saying a single fucking thing. “I should have focused on understanding you instead of hurting you. I’ve been an asshole, Briar. I am an asshole and I’m fucking so sorry.”

“West,” I breathe, nostrils flaring.

He blinks. He swallows. He looks at his boots, then back at me. “I replaced your birth control with sugar pills.” He licks his lips. “We’ve been having unprotected sex for the last four and half weeks.”

He reaches for me, but I step back reactively, knocking more things off the shelf.

“Listen, sweetheart,” he starts, “babygirl, I was gonna tell you tonight. And I know that seems mighty convenient now, but I promise I was going to tell you. That nap you took the other day,” he says, but my brain has officially turned off to West Dupont.

I do want a baby with him. I want lots of babies with him.

But I do not want to be fucking tricked into it.

I look around, stomping back down the aisle when I spot the pink box that started all of this. Had we not gone down this aisle would he have told me? Or would I have just found myself like the Virgin Mary? Seriously?

I hold the box up. “Pay for this.”

He nods, swiping at the sweat beneath the band of his cowboy hat. “I will, of course I will.”

He reaches for me, but I jerk my arm away, my entire body really.

“Don’t touch me, West.” I back away from him, my mind a flurry of thoughts, my pulse zipping, my head light and woozy.

“Do not touch me. You wanted to betray me? You got what you wanted. And you know what? I would never betray you. This is so much worse than what I did. I did what I did because I love you , West! Not because I want you to hurt!”

“You want a baby!” he shouts suddenly, pulling at his hair like his body doesn't agree with the words coming out of his mouth.

“Yeah, West, I do want a baby. That’s true. I told you that first on Veiled . But do you think this is how every little girl dreams of being knocked up? With her jealous, vindictive, possessive boyfriend tricking them into it?”

“Jealous? Vindictive?” he balks.

“You made me stop being friends with Austin, and not just that, I had to call him while you were fucking me!” I shout, and just then, a clerk comes around the corner with a red floor mop. Her eyes meet mine, then go to West’s, who she glares at immediately.

Exactly .

“I’m leaving,” I tell West. “Pay for the test.”

“You can’t leave,” he tries. “We live together. I drove us.” He tries to follow me but I threaten him.

“Do not follow me, West. I’m serious.” I shake my head, and somehow find the words.

“All I’ve wanted for the last nearly two years was to be with you, to love and understand you and have that in return.

And it feels like all you want to do is hurt me.

Make me wait to meet your friends, make me pay for what I did, make me stop seeing my friends…

” I trail off, scrubbing my fist over my eye, exhausted. “Just… go home. I’ll call you later.”

“Baby,” he starts, but I walk away, and I’m grateful that he doesn’t follow me. Because I do not have the energy.

Outside, next to the soda machine and DVD rental box, I pull my phone out and search for a number on Google. Dialing, I’m nervous that we’re not close enough for me to make this call, but the truth is? I need someone.

She answers on the first ring. “Hello?”

“It’s Briar. Can you come get me?”