Page 17 of The Last Thing (Baker Girls #4)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

HALLIE

School pick-up lines are the bane of my existence, but at least it’s a nice day, so I can take the top off and blare Fall Out Boy.

Nothing like the wind blowing through my hair while I belt out the words to Sugar, We’re Goin Down .

I’m trying to enjoy every second left with my Wrangler because I know our time together is coming to an end.

As soon as I figure out how best to finance a new-to-me car, I need to get one.

A Jeep Wrangler isn’t the most practical car for kids—especially a baby.

But I found a different Jeep model I like.

Maybe I’ll save up and have it painted baby blue to keep the love of my first car baby alive.

I drum my thumbs on the steering wheel as I jam—more quietly now—to Fall Out Boy.

I get an approving look from a guy walking by, and where in the past that might’ve been something that would be an icebreaker or lead me to a hookup, as I predicted the night we met, Wilson Decker has ruined me.

Since we finally gave in to the tension between us the other day, we haven’t been able to stop.

We did it three times that day and again that night.

And last night, Sophia convinced me to stay for dinner, then read her a book before bed.

Before I could even try to leave the apartment, Deck had cornered me, begging me to stay.

Because I now apparently turn into a pile of mush when he hits me with sex eyes, I did, then ended up in his bed.

I fell asleep there because my body felt like jelly, and when he wrapped his arms around me, I didn’t have the energy to fight him.

I had to do the walk of shame back to my apartment at five in the morning so Sophia wouldn’t see me.

Talk about messy.

And yet I’m getting surprisingly comfortable in my little mess.

Would it be so crazy to keep hooking up with Deck, co-parent our child, and continue being there for Sophia?

It could totally work, right?

Some new-age version of family that would make old people roll their eyes and say “back in my day, we had respect for what a family is.” All while at least one partner was cheating and women were forced to be childrearers and nothing else.

Sometimes I feel like a bad feminist because that’s what I’d love to be—a stay-at-home mom, not a cheating-at-home wife.

But feminism is all about women having opportunities and freedom of choice.

I’m allowed to want to stay home with my kid.

On my terms. Obviously, I’d want to have my own things and find things outside of being a parent that fulfill me and bring me joy, but I’d love being a stay-at-home mom.

I just have to figure out how to finance that.

Sophia’s bright smile catches my eye from up the walkway, and she pauses to give a hug to a friend and say goodbye.

That makes my heart happy. I want her to form those kinds of bonds.

Though I’m closest with Frannie, Kennedy, Justin, and now the football boys, I had my bestie Lena growing up.

She was the first to leave me when she moved to Oregon after high school, but she’s happy there, and we settle for monthly video calls to maintain our friendship.

I turn off the music as Sophia gets to the car. “Are you okay climbing in by yourself?”

“Yep!” She hops right in, drops her bag on the floor, and buckles herself up.

“Ready to go?”

“Yes. Let’s go home.”

“So, how was your day?” I carefully pull out of the spot I’m in, hand on my horn in case someone tries to cut me off. People are maniacs in the school pick-up line.

“It was good. I had grilled cheese for lunch!”

“Yum. That’s one of my favorites. Who was that you were hugging when you left?”

“Oh, that was Maria. She’s my best friend.”

I put on a fake pout in the rearview mirror. “Replacing me already?”

She laughs. “No. You’re more than my best friend.”

“Oh? What am I then?”

As I come to a stoplight, I glance in the mirror and look at her contemplative face.

“I don’t know exactly, but you’re… like family.”

Oh, my heart.

“I feel the same way, kid.”

She laughs again. “That’s what Daddy calls me.”

She’s quiet for the next couple of minutes until I get back to the parking lot across from our building.

As I help her down, she looks up at me tentatively. “Are you and Daddy friends?”

I glance down at her. “Yes. We are.”

“Are you more than friends?”

Shit .

I don’t want to lie to her, but telling her I’m pregnant with her half-sibling and crawling into her dad’s bed at night isn’t the right call.

“We’re friends.”

When the road is clear, we cross the street and head inside the building.

“But do you want to be more than friends with Daddy? Because sometimes he looks at you… the way he looks at me. Kind of. Not exactly.”

I pause at the apartment door and meet her eyes. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. He always looks like he’s really happy you’re here. He doesn’t look at anyone else like that. Besides me.”

Damn, she’s perceptive. It’s a good thing I’ve been able to hide my puking from her, otherwise she probably would’ve figured out I’m pregnant by now.

Unlocking the door, I push it open.

“Do you want me to be more than friends with your dad?”

She sets her bag down and takes her shoes off, then runs over and gets comfy on the couch.

“If it means you’d stay with us forever… that you’d always make him smile like that, then yes. And… I wouldn’t mind if you were my stepmom. Even though I’d probably call you my mom since I don’t have one of those. Exactly.”

Yikes .

Deck gave me a basic rundown of the situation with her mom last week, just so I’d be prepared. Sophia seems pretty well adjusted with all of it, but still, I’m sure it’s getting harder to understand that as she gets older.

“Well, I don’t know if I can promise all that, but I can promise I’ll always be here for you. Deal?”

She nods happily. “Deal.”

“Good. Now, what do you say we have some apple slices with peanut butter and chocolate chips, then start getting the quiche ready for dinner?”

“Chocolate chips? Yes, please.”

Sophia yawns as I finish reading her a book.

I wasn’t planning on staying late tonight, but apparently me reading to her at bedtime is becoming a thing. I’m not sure if I should let it become a thing or not, but… I’m right here. One day, maybe she’ll help me read to the baby at night.

I’m getting way ahead of myself.

“I think it’s time for someone to go to sleep.”

She nestles against me. “Mhm.”

I look down and find her eyes closed as she snuggles close. My heart melts into a puddle.

I’ve never really done this. Occasionally when babysitting, but as a nanny, I was always off the clock by dinner time, usually earlier. Sophia has attached herself to me quickly, too. But the feeling is mutual. She’s already stolen a piece of my heart.

I carefully climb out of her bed, pulling her blanket up and putting the bear she loves so much right next to her.

Switching her lamp off, I creep out of her room, only to find Deck waiting in the hallway for me.

“You’re good for her,” he says, looking reverently into Sophia’s bedroom.

“What do you mean?”

He turns to me, a gentle smile on his face. “She’s been lonely. She’s needed connection. A different kind than I could provide.”

“My brand of chaos?” I ask with a light laugh.

“Your tenderness and warmth. She was instantly comfortable with you. And it’s not because you’re a woman or give off maternal energy—though you do.

It’s because you’re you. From the first moment you met her, you made it a point to see her.

To see who she is and what she needs. In a short time, you’ve become another safe place. For both of us.”

He stares at me with those smoldering dark eyes, and my body heats. That melty, tingly feeling tries to overtake me, but I steel myself.

After a quick glance into Sophia’s room, I shove at Deck’s chest. “Stop with the sex eyes. We need to talk.”