Unexpected Gift(52)
“Sorry,” I say, twisting the bottom of the shirt in my hands.
He turns the stove off and pulls the bottle out of the water, testing it on his wrist. He changes positions with Posie until he has her on her back in his arm, carrying her like a football, and puts the nipple of the bottle in her mouth. “Don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry. I like your eyes on me.”
I try not to panic. I really do. “Right.” I ignore his words because I don’t know how to feel about them. I want to like them. I want to love them, but I don’t know how to trust his words. It is hard to let go of so many years of us being at each other’s throats because of a night of fooling around. “How is Posie? I freaked out because I didn’t see her when I woke up.”
He stares at me for a minute, swaying Posie left and right as she eats. “Yeah, I woke up and you weren’t there. When I saw you, she started to wake up, so I took her and brought her down here. I figured she would be hungry. Isn’t that right, little miss Posie?” he coos at her. He plucks the bottle from her lips and makes choo-choo noises, bringing the bottle closer and closer. She gives him a toothless smile, reaching for the bottle again, and he puts the nipple back in her mouth.
My eyes start to tear up, and I sniffle knowing Brandon and Amelia won’t ever be able to have memories like this. They won’t ever run into one another in the kitchen, loving how the other is feeding their daughter. They won’t be able to see so many things. Brandon won’t be able to put money under her pillow when she loses a tooth and believes in the tooth fairy. He won’t be there to teach her how to ride a bike. He won’t see her go through a heartbreak, and then fall in love all over again. He won’t walk her down the aisle. He’ll miss everything.
I wipe my eyes and snatch an apple off the counter and sit down. I peel the sticker off the red, shiny skin, and start to think about how I’m in an already-made family. Am I considered tied down? What if I’ll never be able to find someone who will want me because of my situation? I’m not going to delude myself into believing a man like Caden wants me forever.
“So, we need groceries. The only thing we have in there for us is leftover Chinese food and some cheese. I’ll go when she is done with her bottle.”
The thought of getting out of the house makes me stand and take a bite of the fruit I have in my hand. The crunch is loud, and the juice rolls down my lip and onto my chin when I try to speak. “I’ll go. I’ll take Posie, and you can catch up on some sleep since you never get to.”
“You sure? Because I don’t mind going.”
“Really, I don’t mind at all. It will be good for me to go out and check out the town.”
“Alright, thanks. I appreciate it.” His thick hair falls in his face, and I hold myself back from brushing it away.
The moment becomes awkward. At least, for me it does because I can feel him staring at me with his loaded-question gaze, wondering why I seem so standoffish.
I’m scared of what I feel for him, and I have no idea how to react to it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Molly
The wheels of the cart squeak as they roll against the tiled floor of the grocery store and down aisle two. I’m one of those shoppers that goes down every aisle because I never know what I might see or what I might want. It results in a three-hundred-dollar grocery bill, so it’s a good thing I don’t pay rent, am I right?
Music pumps through my earbuds, and I tap my fingers along with the beat of the song, Zombie by The Cranberries. It’s one of my favorite songs, but Kenna always knows when I am playing it because she calls every single time it comes on.
My phone stops playing the music, and her name and photo flash on my phone. I ignore it because I am finally alone. It’s just me, the grocery cart, and music, and I have a chance of clearing my thoughts, organizing them, and putting them into little comfy boxes. Then, once I get them all sorted out and grab the pasta sauce, I can go back to the way life was before. Before I felt his massive cock gliding between my folds.
Bang!
My phone flies out of my hand, crashing onto the floor when my cart clashes against another cart. “Oh, my god. I am so sorry.” That is what I get. I think of his big penis, and it makes me walk right into someone. “Are you okay?” I bend down to pick up the box of spaghetti I made the other person drop. “My mind is just all over the place.”
“It’s fine. Are you okay?” We reach for the same box and our hand’s touch. Our eyes meet. I know those eyes. I know those teeth. Those perfect, white, straight teeth.
Hottie bartender.
“I know you,” he says, running his hands over the box before tossing it in his cart.
“Um,” I stutter, pushing my hair behind my ears. “Maybe. Yeah, maybe. You look familiar.” My phone takes that moment to ring again, and hottie bartender bends down to pick it up.
He smirks, showing me that Kenna is FaceTiming me. I reach for it, but he yanks it back right out of my reach and swipes the screen. “No!” I whisper, trying to snatch the phone out of his grasp, but he holds it up in the air.
“Hi, Kenna,” he answers.
“Hottie bartender!” she says in shock. “What are you doing with my best friend’s phone? Actually, why are you in Glendive? That’s unusual. Consider me intrigued and very happy. You are a sight for very sore eyes, hottie bartender.”