Baking and Babies (Chocoholics #3)(66)

“Yaaaaay, it kicked,” I cheer in a monotone voice with fake enthusiasm.

Someone clangs their silverware against a glass across the room and Dicky Daren finally finds something more interesting to record as he walks away from us.

All three of us let out a sigh when we’re alone again.

“I’m sorry,” Charlotte whispers. “I just don’t want anything to mess this up. Please, Molly, just until after the wedding. I know I’m being selfish and I know you hate me, but this is the only wedding I’ll ever have and I want it to be perfect.”

With an annoyed growl, I point my finger at Charlotte’s face. “You better hope this is your only wedding because if there’s a second one, I will f*ck that shit up.”

Charlotte squeals, throwing her arms around me to squeeze me so tight I can’t breathe. “You are the best sister in the whole world!”

Ava clears her throat. “Um, hello? What about me?”

Charlotte finally releases me and scowls at her. “You sent me that birthing video and told me it was a cute kitten compilation.”

“Well, it was about pussies, so technically I didn’t lie. I just forgot to mention it was about pussies that look like a serial killer got ahold of them,” Ava shrugs.

Leaving them to bicker, I turn and make my way to the table where Marco is sitting. He sees me coming and pulls my chair out for me, resting his arm on the back when I sit down.

“Everything go okay?” he asks softly as the servers come out of the kitchen and start putting plates in front of everyone.

“Super,” I tell him with a bright smile. “You’ll be happy to know Cletus kicked for the first time. It was a joyous event.”

Marco slides a glass of orange juice across the table to me and gives me a sympathetic smile.

“Yum, more mommy juice,” I grumble, bringing the glass to my lips and taking a huge swallow.

My throat burns and my eyes water as soon as the liquid slides down my throat and I slam my fist against my chest as I cough.

“I guess I shouldn’t have asked the bartender to put enough vodka in there to choke a horse,” Marco whispers in my ear as he pats my back. “Fetal Alcohol Syndrome for our baby it is!”

I get my coughing under control and manage a small laugh. “Thanks for sneaking me a drink. I’m going to need about ten more to get through this night.”

Clinking my glass against Marco’s beer bottle, I hold it up for a toast.

“Here’s to one more night with our little bundle of joy. May our baby have your good looks and my charming personality, minus the swearing and underage drinking.”

A server’s arm that was sliding between us suddenly drops the plate of food right into Marco’s lap.

“YOU’RE having a baby?!”

Marco’s chair flies backwards as he pushes his feet against the floor to quickly remove the boiling hot shrimp scampi appetizer from his crotch, and I turn around to look at the woman who just yelled and dropped the plate.

I practically motorboat the woman standing between us since her giant fake boobs that are popping out of her shirt are right at my eye level.

“Megan, I didn’t know you worked here,” Marco says with an uncomfortable laugh while he swipes away the food with his cloth napkin. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”

I look back and forth between Tits McGee and Marco, wondering how they know each other, hoping they’re neighbors or cousins. Please, God, let them be related.

“Did I really hear you say you’re having a baby? I think I’m going to be sick,” Bimbo Barbie says with a grimace, tossing her perfect blonde hair over one shoulder.

“Um, Molly, this is Megan Levine. Megan, this is my girlfriend, Molly,” Marco says without looking up, suddenly very interested in getting the stains out of the crotch of his pants.

She doesn’t even glance in my direction, and if I didn’t already hate her because of her fake tits, big hair, tiny waist and all around perfect body, I sure as shit would now. She looks right over my head like I’m not even sitting here.

“It must take a lot of skill to say the word girlfriend without laughing,” she says with a smile that is definitely not friendly. “Looks like nothing has changed and you’re still sleeping your way through another stupid porn cookbook. If you decide to include another story about me in this one, at least get the facts straight. The Chocolate Sauce Suckfest was my idea, and I’m the one who told you to use milk chocolate instead of semi sweet. The least you could do is put my name in the acknowledgements.”

So, not a cousin, unless it’s recently become acceptable to blow your relative.

I try really hard to say something awesome and sarcastic to make her feel like an *, but I’m too busy wondering why Marco would ever want someone like me when he had someone like her. Also, what in the holy f*ck is she talking about? Porn cookbook? Acknowledgements? Is everyone a fan of that stupid Seduction and Sugar book but me?

“Oh, how cute,” Megan purrs. “I think your girlfriend is in shock. You might want to do something about that, Alfanso. Or is it Marco? I can never remember which is the right one.”

What in the actual f*ck of all f*cks is happening right now? Am I on drugs? Is she on drugs? Is the documentary they’ve been filming really some kind of hidden camera show where they play jokes on people? Maybe it’s an episode of Intervention and mom was right. Vodka really is a gateway drug to meth and I became an addict without even knowing it.