LUCI (The Naughty Ones Book 2) Page 5

  I can’t. I’m not ready to let go yet, and I can only imagine that he’ll be out of here like a freaking shot once he sees my state and realizes why my belly is so hard and rounded.

  “Luci, baby, come on now. You need a bath and you look about as capable of going it alone as a limp noodle. Don’t be shy. I’ve already seen, touched, and tasted it all anyway.” He grins, a small dimple popping out in his cheek.

  “Er, uh, no. Um, I can do it,” I mutter, holding on to my shirt like my life depends on it, which at this very moment it does.

  Freddie seems to be praying for patience as he pulls his hands away and looks down at me, his bright blue eyes narrowed on my pale face.

  “You’re sick and you need to go to the doctor. And by God, Luci, I will get you there if I have to carry your smelly, puke-stained ass there just as you are.”

  The man’s a freaking tyrant. And an ass. And so handsome that for just a second all I can do is stare at him before I feel my anger rise.

  He wants to take care of me now? Now! When I can’t have him and can’t accept this gentle caring he seems to have found under a rock.

  “What are you even doing here?”

  “I told you I’d be seeing you again. What? You thought I’d just realize I freaking love you and then walk away just because you told me to?” He laughs.

  Admittedly, I’m in such a daze and stuck on his words that I don’t feel him rip my clothes off or gently lower me into the tub. Did he just say…?

  It’s only when I hear his indrawn breath and feel a hand cup the little mound of my belly that I snap out of it and stiffen, my eyes rounding as I bring them up to meet his.

  “Oh, Luci.”

  Don’t cry, Luce. Don’t. So what if he starts going crazy and yelling at you the way he did at Callie and Jack’s wedding. It doesn’t matter, remember? You let him go and chose to have a baby instead of getting your heart broken again.

  “Don’t tell anyone yet,” I manage to say, my mind blank but for the fear that he’s about to run out of here and tell the whole gang and the Times that I’m pregnant.

  I haven’t even told the parents yet.

  He starts stroking me, his fingers tender, gentle, as I lie there and watch him in a daze, somehow seeing a love and tenderness I know can only be the figments of my overstressed mind.

  “It’s real. It’s really happening? You’re pregnant?”

  “Well of course it is, you idiot! I am pregnant and it’s none of your freaking business.”

  Chapter Seven

  The Best Laid Plans

  Freddie

  She’s pregnant.

  That’s all that keeps playing over and over in my head as I look down at her little belly and see the proof that I failed. She’s gone through with having the IVF done and it took, despite my efforts to derail the whole thing and have her needing me for comfort.

  I freely admit that at one mad point I considered swapping out sperm samples and getting her pregnant with my seed. Hell, I jerked off into a cup and handed it over to one of Woody’s doctor pals at the same clinic Luci used.

  Don’t go judging me. I came to my senses really fast after that and had them pull the plug on that idea. I could never deceive her that way and live with myself.

  So I went to plan C and had them tamper with the viability of the sperm she’d chosen. I kept thinking that if only she needed me, even if only for comfort when the IVF failed, that it would be my in.

  I could soothe her and comfort her and prove in this small way that she could trust me and depend on me. Maybe even love me again when she realized that I am so in love with her I can barely see straight.

  And now…

  I can’t think it again even as I cup her belly, because I might go nuts seeing another man’s baby inside her.

  All I wanted is for her to see me and love me again.

  Please God, I beg of you, don’t let it be dead. I may just kill what’s left of the hopeful little boy I once was if the love she had for me is all gone.

  As soon as I have the thought it dawns on me that I don’t give a shit that she’s pregnant with some other douche’s baby. I love her enough that I’ll love her child. It will be mine. It is already, no matter what she thinks or feels right now. I swear to God that I will make her love me again and we’ll be a family.

  “Luci.”

  She somehow gets herself together and out of her daze and starts slapping my hands away with a cursed yell that echoes off the tiled bathroom walls.

  The action only serves to bring my eyes up to her breasts. I think I just came in my pants when I look up to see her already perfect breasts swollen and tender, a little bigger than I remember them being.

  I want to lower my head and suck on her dark pink nipples till she screams out her pleasure. I want them against my tongue, hardening as I flick and lick—

  “Stop staring at my boobs and get your hands off me, Cage. God, I’m pregnant and you’re still being a perv?” she yells, cursing when she tries to rise and I just push her back into the lukewarm water.

  “Luci—”

  “It freaking figures that you’d be all hot for me now that you know I can’t be with you. What? You like knowing that I’m unable to expect anything from you, so all of a sudden I’m not Typhoid Mary anymore!” she yells, her temper going so hot I feel it singe my eyebrows. “Well guess what, I don’t want you. How’s that for a freaking ironic twist, huh? I do not want you. I’m having my baby and I will be happy and I don’t care if I’m gonna be alone for the rest of my freaking life.”

  The way she buries her face in her hands is enough to solidify my resolve and I pull her closer to me, the water on her skin soaking into my shirt as I croon to her and pepper little kisses over her dirty hair.

  “Luci, baby, please don’t cry. I fucking hate seeing you cry. I meant it when I said I love you and I don’t give a shit if you’re pregnant with someone else’s baby. I still want you enough to just be happy that you’ll let me take care of you. Please let me take care of you, at least,” I plead, ignoring my hard dick as I rub her back and try to soothe her.

  “I hate you so much for hurting me, Cage.”

  The words hurt, I won’t lie, but I shove the pain away and instead keep crooning to her till she stops sobbing and seems to collect herself a little.

  “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for and untrue. I don’t hate you. I just, I just don’t know what to do right now. I was so excited about a baby and I think I went a little nuts when I saw little Jack and…and I was feeling so alone. So I—”

  “Shh, baby. Don’t. Don’t upset yourself more right now. Just let me clean you up and wash your nasty-ass hair first, and then we can sit on the sofa and talk. Just talk.”

  For whatever reason, and I thank God for it, she seems to just deflate and sits quietly while I go about washing her hair and her body, her eyes redrimmed and far away as I pick her up out of the tub and start drying her off.

  For once I’m proud of myself when instead of getting harder at the sight of her naked body, all I do is dress her and scoop her up to carry her into the living room.

  She doesn’t say a word as I lower her to the sofa, and she goes so far as to accept the tea I make her as well as the dry slice of toast that Google said would calm her upset stomach.

  I’m still a little raw as I lower myself to the sofa beside her, and it takes a few throat clearings and a lot of self-control when I finally find my voice and start speaking.

  “I don’t blame you one bit if you hate me after the shit I pulled on you, Luci. I was a heartless coward. I have no excuse for the way I reacted when you told me you loved me. All I can say is that it scared the shit out of me and I reacted badly.”

  “I don’t hate you, Cage,” she whispers after a long silence. “I can’t hate you when I once loved you. It’s just not in me, no matter how much I wish it were.”

  Well thank God for that small miracle, I think, blinking back tears of regret.

  �
�That is…thank you.” I choke, digging my fingers into my thighs to stop from reaching out and touching her. “Talk to me, Luce.”

  I want to know it all. I want to know when she decided that this was her only chance at happiness and how she got through this all alone.

  Most of all I want to know if there’s any chance at all of her letting me back in. As a friend, at the very least.

  Luci shrugs and finally turns her green eyes up at me.

  “The morning little Jack was born I kind of just…lost it, I think. I looked down at her little face, that perfect little mouth that seemed to smile at me, and I thought…I’ll never have this, will I? I’m thirty years old, going for thirty-one, and I have nothing to show for myself but a business that doesn’t really need me, a relationship with my parents that’s okay, and a room I shared in an apartment with my friends. That was it.”

  I had that very same thought just weeks ago when I looked at my own life and realized I have nothing of any real value. Sure I’m stinking rich and making more money by the minute, and sure I have friends and now an extended family that’s a hoot and makes me happy. But that’s it.

  I have no fond memories of love or anything really that in any way points to a well-lived life. I have nothing that can’t be replaced in any way or another. I feel empty.

  It took a few hours but eventually my mind focused on Luci and I realized that for a few brief moments I did have something so special that the thought of living without it for the next fifty years made me break out into a cold sweat.

  “Yeah, I totally get that,” I mutter with a sad smile that she reciprocates before looking down at her teacup.

  “Anyway, I just thought, I want at least one part of my messed-up album. Just one part, and then all I could think was I wanted a baby. I wanted one person I could love who would need me and love me back. Indie and the others, they’re great and I know they love me, but they’ve never needed me, you know? And then there’s the whole biological clock that started ticking, and well, I just kind of picked up the ball and just kept running without really considering everything, I guess.”

  “And then?”

  I know how she got this way, but some part of me needs to hear it all because as much as it hurts, I want her to trust me with this secret and know for the rest of my life that I have a part of her that no one else got to first.

  She laughs a little and sips at her tea before shrugging again.

  “I went nuts. I went to a boatload of doctor appointments and got all these tests done and then I just, I chose a dad. It was the most ridiculous thing, Cage. I got to look at this catalogue type setup and choose all the things I wanted to pass on to my kid like hair and eye color. Heck, some of those men even had all these IQ tests on their profiles and it…”

  “You chose all the good things you wanted, huh?”

  I want to cry like a freaking baby when she smiles sadly and looks up at me with so much regret, I feel it like a physical blow.

  “No. I just took what I could from the broken dreams and sort of let myself believe it would be enough. I guess…you know what the worst part is? When they did the procedure and I was lying on that bed, I was sad.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I knew that it was just time to let you go and it hurt a little. Up to that point I still had a tiny bit of useless hope left and…when I realized I was pregnant and that the father was a stranger and…I just knew that it was all over and it was sad. That’s all.”

  “Luce—”

  “And then I woke up the next day and the day after that and so on, and I managed to just be happy. I got hopeful and all that stupid emotional stuff because it was done, and as the eternal optimist that my dumb ass is, I saw only good things if it turned out I was pregnant.”

  “It’s scary, huh?”

  She laughs and I see her blush a little as she looks back at me.

  “Terrifying. I feel like shit all the time and I’m alone in this and I never…it never crossed my mind that I would be this way. I saw how happy Callie was, but I never once stopped to think that she was okay because Jack was there and he made her feel like it was all going to be okay. I really should have thought this through better, because I feel like hell and I am terrified of going through this alone for the next seven months.”

  “You don’t have to be alone in this, Luce. I can be there for you every step of the way.”

  “Cage—”

  “No. Just hear me out, okay? I know that you won’t believe that I love you, and I don’t blame you one bit for your lack of trust. I totally deserve it all and then some. I know that. But the truth is that I do. I love you so much it fucking hurts knowing that I ruined the only good thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t expect you to ever love me or want me again, but if you let me be here for you and get you through this, I swear to God I won’t let you down,” I say vehemently, taking her hand in mine. “I can move in here. No, you should move in with me since my penthouse apartment is bigger, and…and I can go with you to the doctor appointments and those classes that teach you how to get through the birth. I can be there for you when you’re sick and can’t take care of yourself.”

  “Cage…”

  “Please. Please, Luci. Please don’t tell me that we can’t at least be friends. Please forgive me enough to let me do this. I won’t pressure you to do anything you don’t want to do, and I swear, if you say yes I will never let you down again.”

  I feel like I’m walking a tightrope without a net as her eyes go misty and she stares at me for the longest time, just stares and seems to look right through me.

  “I’m a handful right now,” she warns.

  “I can handle it.”

  “I puke all the time and I cry for no reason.”

  “I’ll buy tissues.”

  “I’m a bitch in the mornings.”

  “That’s okay. I’m an asshole before the first cup of coffee anyway, so we can be miserable together,” I counter, seeing her lips twitch.

  I know I have her when I squeeze her hand and she squeezes back, seeming to regain her strength.

  “Thank you, Cage.”

  We’re back in business.

  All I have to do now is figure out how to seduce a pregnant woman and make her so dependent on me, she won’t want to ever leave me again.

  Chapter Eight

  Dorothy, That House of Yours Fell on Me When it Wound Up in Oz.

  Luci

  It’s all so surreal that I want to say I fell down the rabbit hole, drank both potions, and met a talking rabbit and the Mad Hatter all in the same moment.

  Or maybe I just wound up meeting a scarecrow, lion, and tin man.

  That’s how I feel a month later when I drag a shirt over my burgeoning belly and look down at yet another new article of clothing that doesn’t fit me.

  “Hey, babe? You ready?” Cage calls from outside my door as I scowl at my reflection in the mirror and snarl in disgust.

  I’m three going on four months pregnant right now and I look like I swallowed half the football team along with the Goddamn ball! I’ve been shopping once already when none of my pants or shirts fit anymore and Cage came home a week ago with a whole new wardrobe when he noticed that I was popping the buttons on all my blouses.

  And here I am again, looking like a freaking ten-year-old in his five-year-old baby brother’s clothes. My boobs are so big they need their own zip code, and I can’t turn a corner without announcing my arrival anymore.

  Freaking scientist’s mutant sperm. I feel like I’m carrying a Hulk baby the little mite is growing so fast. Today is another appointment since Cage in all his paranoia called the doctor yesterday and started yelling at him about how big I am already and how things do not seem right.

  Have I mentioned yet that living with him is like living with a paranoid old mama bear? The man feeds me constantly, won’t let me bath or shower alone, and just goes out of his way to be wherever I am at all times.

  He even calls
me from work when I’m doing something I shouldn’t and lectures me to death about being stubborn and too damn ornery for my own good. So what if I tried to change a freaking burnt-out lightbulb by myself. I’m pregnant, not dying.

  “Babe?”

  Snapping out of my ramblings, I stomp to the door and jerk it open with a huff, ignoring his bulging eyes when they land on my bra and boobs where the shirt won’t close.

  “Don’t even because I am so not in the mood right now. Nothing fits and I promise you and all that is holy, if I have to try another shirt on and have the buttons pop, I will lose it,” I warn, hating the tremble in my lips.

  Crying is so not cool, not when he looks ready to start hyperventilating at any minute, but I can’t help it.

  Cage seems about to have another panic attack before I see him freeze and smile. Then he’s hoofing it down the hall only to return seconds later holding up one of his T-shirts with a grin.

  “Here. This should fit over your boobs, at least. Damn baby, how are you even standing upright right now?”

  “You shut your disgustingly handsome face and go get us some yogurt before I kick your ass.”

  He leaves with a chuckle and one last glance at my watermelons while I rip the shirt off like it’s dirty and slip on his.

  When it settles easily, without pushing on me like a second skin, I let out a sigh and slip on my flats, making my way to the kitchen with a little more pep than I felt minutes ago.

  “Hell yeah, that looks great, babe,” he says, giving me a wolf whistle and a wink.

  I don’t at all miss the hot look he can’t quite hide, and I feel myself heat a little just thinking about sex with Cage. It’s a fact that a lot of women are okay during the whole pregnancy thing, and Callie even told me that one of the women in her class once told her that she was so put off sex while she was pregnant that she caught her poor husband masturbating at all times of the day.

  I feel like someone lit a fire in my pants and poured gasoline on my crotch. And Cage looking at me like I’m dessert? Not helping the blaze, man.

  “Huh, now I know you’re full of bullhockey, mister. These babies are maternity pants. Maternity pants, Cage. You know, since you bought them for me, that they have enough elastic to circle the fucking globe.”