Entice (16 page)

“Uh…” She thinks, chewing the corner of her mouth, her brow furrowing in concentration. “You,” she whispers, “if that’s all right?”

“That’s more than all right, Shorty.” I lean in and give her a quick kiss on that trembling rosebud mouth of hers. “Relax for me, okay? I’m right here. Everything’s fine, I promise.”

She’s a tad calmer by the time we’ve finished all five thousand forms. I kept waiting for “when did you last fart and what did it smell like?” or “did your last booger come from your left or right nostril?” I mean, fuck me they ask a lot of questions.

I deliver the clipboard back to the blonde behind the window who’s eye fucking me like I’m not sitting in a pregnancy clinic with a gorgeous brunette. Rolling my eyes, I set the board down on the ledge and make my way back to Emmett, picking up her hand and kissing it. “One time, not at band camp though, I tried to shave lines in my eyebrows. All the guys had ‘em, so I thought what the hell.” I glance at her from the corner of my eye—it’s working!—a smirk starting at the edge of her lip. “Anyway, the more I tried to even them out, the worse it got, till finally I spent three months of seventh grade with no left eyebrow.”

A small gasp precedes her laughter, then she quickly covers her mouth when she snorts. “Oh my God, how awful. So you walked around with one eyebrow?”

“Yep, loud and proud. People learned real quick not to give me shit about it.”

“Emmett Young?” We both turn as her name is called.

She stands, wobbling a bit, so I quickly rise and place my hand on her back. Her sweet green eyes find mine and I give her a reassuring grin.

“Let’s do this, Mama.”

“Can he come back with me?” Emmett squeaks out to the nurse waiting for us.

“Of course he can! Is this Daddy?”

“That’s me,” I boast automatically.

Emmett’s whole body goes rigid, then trembles, under my hand.

I find her ear with my mouth and whisper softly, “It’s none of their business, babe, just go with it.”

She nods dazedly and I propel her forward with a gentle urging of my hand.

I’ll be damned if they’re gonna look at her like some too young, no father reject, judging her with pity or condemnation in their glares. No one’s gonna look at my Emmett like that ever. And sadly, she can’t supply the real father’s medical history or anything anyway, so…no, not gonna think about it. She’d probably get real mad if I punched a fucking hole in the wall right now.

“This way.” The nurse smiles, extending her arm. Right inside the door she stops us, indicating a scale. “Let’s get you weighed.”

“Oh, um,” Emmett clamps down on her lip, looking at me. “Can you turn around and maybe plug your ears?”

“Hell no.” I smirk at her then turn to Nurse Betty. “My guess is 123. ‘Bout three pounds in the last two weeks, all in her boobs.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Pretty happy about the weight gain to boob ratio.”

Emmett drops her face in her hands and shakes her head, but Nurse Betty thinks I’m hilarious, laughing out loud.

“Well, let’s see how good you are. Please step up here, Emmett.”

Oh, I get a nasty glare from her as she steps onto the scale. “You haven’t ever seen my boobs, and how would—”

“121! Very nice!” the nurse exclaims, interrupting Emmett’s tongue lashing.

I wink at the struck silent Emmett, offering her my hand. “What? So I pay attention? Come on, dear, right this way.”

The nurse leads us to a room, quietly chuckling to herself the whole way as Emmett tries to break my hand.

“Don’t embarrass me,” she hisses quietly.

Once the door is closed and it’s just the two of us waiting for the doctor, I start whistling “Savin’ Me,” casually flipping through an exhilarating edition of Parents. Holy shit! Did you know the biggest baby ever born that survived weighed 19.2 pounds? Good Lord. We won’t be sharing that little tidbit with the already petrified Emmett.

I can feel her angry stare boring a hole in the top of my head, but I keep on reading, holding back a laugh. Why is it that aggravating her makes my heart do a jig in my chest?

“You’re lucky I can’t whistle, or I’d be busting out some choice songs for you right now,” she warns.

Huh, microwaves do not pose a threat to the fetus, despite rumors. Fascinating.

“I know you hear me,” she throws at me and I can tell she’s seething.

Guess what she’s not doing right now? Freaking out, shaking her leg, or fidgeting with her hands. Worth it. Keep ‘em coming, Shorty. I can distract you with my infuriating appeal all day long.

“You announce my tit growth out loud, but I’m being ignored? Unbelievable,” she sneers, shaking her head and trying desperately to kick me from her perch on the examining table.

Yeah right, with her short legs? Not happening. Ah, but dynamite comes in short sticks, and she’s getting off the table to come over and attack me when I’m saved by the knock.

“Knock, knock.” The doctor peeks around the door. “Emmett? I’m Dr. Greer.” The woman doctor (you bet your ass I got a woman) shakes Emmett’s hand, then mine. “And you are?”

“Sawyer Beckett, the love of Emmett’s life.”

“Oh yes, I’ve been told you’re quite the character.” She clears her throat. “And how are you doing, Emmett?”

At first she mumbles her answers, never looking up from her lap, but after about ten minutes she starts to feel more comfortable and things start going smoother. I’m surprised to learn Emmett’s had a lot of abdominal tweaks and lower back pain. Neither of those sound good to me, but the doctor says it’s her body stretching, making room for bubba, and quite normal.

“Okay, let’s get you in a gown and we’ll examine you. Let me step out and give you time to change.”

“I’ll, uh, step out too. Good luck,” I kiss her cheek, “you’re doing great.”

“Sawyer.” She grabs my shirt and pulls me back.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” Her eyes mist up, her voice shaking.

“My pleasure.” This time I bend my head and kiss her lips. “Have them come get me when you want me back in here. Don’t be afraid to speak up.”

She nods, her smile holding more confidence now than it has all day.

“
M
r. Beckett?” I look up from my phone when my name is called. “Emmett’s ready for you to come back.”

I follow her, an odd feeling in my chest. Knowing she really does want me there, that she sent for me, is severely fucking with my heart. When I walk in the room, Emmett’s lying back on the table and immediately holds out her hand for me to take. “March tenth,” she says with a smile. “We’re about to hear the heartbeat. Do you want to?”

“Yeah, babe,” I kiss her forehead incessantly, “I’d love to.”

“Okay, Emmett, this will be cold.” The lady on a stool warns as she squirts sploog all over her belly.

“What the—”

“Sawyer,” Emmett squeezes my hand, demanding my eyes on her, “no comments.”

“I wasn’t gonna.”

“I know you, you were so gonna.”

My argument is stopped cold in my throat as a loud whooshing sound fills the room.

“Nice and strong,” the nurse comments. “146 beats per minute. Perfect.”

“PERFECT? FOR A FUCKING STROKE!” I scream.

“Sir,” she chuckles with a broad smile.

I’m not sure what the fuck is so funny.

“That’s absolutely normal for a fetus. It’s in the ideal range.”

“We’d like a second opinion. Can you go get Doctor Down Under, please?”

“Dear God,” I hear Emmett mumble. She sits up, hands covering her face for a second. “I am so, so sorry. We’re having him tested for Tourette’s.”

“I think it’s adorable he’s so protective over his baby. Trust me, the daddy stories we could tell,” she laughs, “they’d make your man here look calm.”

“You ladies do realize I can hear you when you talk out loud, right?” I butt in. “I wasn’t kidding. I want to hear someone else tell me that’s a normal rate.”

“Of course,” the nurse stands, “here’s a towel to clean up with, Miss Young.”

Emmett thanks her, wiping the lube from her tummy blindly, because she’s staring at me. “You are insane, and blunt, and embarrassing,” she hisses.

“Em, I—”

“Ah, let me finish. And I love it all. There is no one I’d rather have here with me today. Come here.” She opens her arms and kisses my cheek, hugging me fiercely. “Love you.”

It’s not the same as “I love you,” but I’ll take it.

Chapter 15

As Great As It Gets

—Emmett—

“
D
id he rob Disneyland?” I ask Sawyer where only he can hear. The K looks like… well, Disneyland.

“Laney wants, Laney gets.” He laughs like it’s no big deal. Apparently Dane making Laney’s fantasies come to life is the norm.

“Hi!” Laney floats across the room in a white gown, rivaling Cinderella. “Emmett, you make an even hotter Belle than the real one!”

I open my mouth to point out that there is no real Belle, but Sawyer quickly shakes his head at me and squeezes my hand in his.

“Sawyer Landon Beckett, what the hell are you wearing?”

“I’m the Beast.”

“Those are you BKE jeans,” Laney points, “and a ball cap? Really? And a—a t-shirt?”

“Shorty, tell her. I’m a beast in any outfit, right? Happy Birthday, Gidge.” He picks her up and twirls her around.

“Oh, here,” I cut in, extending out her gift bag. “Sawyer and I got you something, together. We hope you like it.”

“Thank you!” She takes the bag and gives me a big hug. “So basically, Sawyer put in some money and sent you shopping?” she jokes, jabbing him with her elbow.

“Actually, no. We went shopping together and he helped pick it out.”

“Birthday girl burn!” Sawyer goads, pinching her nose. “Enough about how awesome I am though, where’s Prince Pansy? Shouldn’t he be carrying the back of your dress or something? Is he wearing tights? Please tell me he’s wearing tights.”

“No, he’s no fun either. Go find him, you’ll see,” she pouts.

“Am I really not fun, baby?” Dane sneaks up behind her, slinking his arms around her waist. “Emmett, tell the truth, can you not tell who I’m dressed up as?”

He steps around her, wearing jeans and a t-shirt that reads “Prince Charming” across it. I can’t help but snicker, giving Laney “I’m sorry for breaking girl code” eyes. “Prince Charming?”

“Prince fucking Charming.” He points and me and winks. “See, baby, they all know who I am.”

Laney huffs and grabs my hand, dragging me over to the cake table. “We are officially playing hard to get. Don’t look back at them.”

“Okay.” I fight to hold a straight face, helping myself to a glass of punch.

As the rest of the guests arrive, the night peps up with Dane refusing the birthday girl’s attempt at playing hard to get, and Laney almost pulling off “miffed.” It didn’t hurt his case any that all the other guys showed up…not dressed up. Evan’s in regular clothes with a hook on one hand, the Captain Hook to Whitley’s adorable Tinkerbell. Tate’s wearing an eye patch…cause Bennett’s Ariel? We all took a turn explaining that yes, Ariel is a mermaid, but that doesn’t make Eric a pirate, but he argued and told us all to fuck off, repeatedly. And Zach? Zach looks like John Smith anyway, and the girl he brought with him as Pocahontas? Yeah, she’s a head-turner for sure.

All the princesses in the land hate her.

“Looks like you got a Pocahontas after all,” I grumble as Sawyer and I dance. I’m standing on top of his boots to even make it look reasonable and suddenly feel short, and fat, and pregnant…

I should have come as Winnie the Pooh.

“Who are you talking about?”

“The hot, half-naked, Amazonian girl with Zach? What do you mean who am I talking about?”

“Not you?”

“Are you on crack? No, not me.”

“Then I have no idea who you mean. Eyes on Emmett, always. Belle of the ball.” He kisses the end of my nose.

I rest my head against his chest, pretending for only a moment this is real, he is mine and I am his, that I’ll always be the only girl he sees. “When can we go home?” I yawn into his chest, the rhythm of our bodies swaying and him holding me up suddenly making me very sleepy.

“Now, if you want. You want?”

“Uh huh.” I nod, kinda hoping he’ll carry me and rescue me from this ridiculous dress.

“Let’s go say goodbye and get you home.”

“Are you sure?” I protest. “I can go alone. I don’t want you to leave your friends because of me. Stay.”

“Do you ever hear me, Emmett? When I tell you how I feel, do you ever really hear me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Let’s go home.”

“You awake?”

He doesn’t answer my whisper and there’s no flinch of his body, entwined with mine, to indicate that he heard me.

I’m not sure what’s changed, but there’s something in the air that hasn’t been there the weeks of other nights we’ve slept in my bed together. Tonight I can’t find sleep and each breath is a struggle. Tonight my clothes feel like a barrier rather than armor and my nipples are hard, aching for his hand to come up and caress them.

“What are you thinking so hard about over there?” His sleepy rumble makes my body respond even more.