Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“I know, but accepting help doesn’t hurt every once in a while, either. Boston, take care of our girl for me, please.” Isabelle walks toward me to squeeze my hand, then leaves as fast as she came. Neither Amelie or I say a word, waiting until her mother is completely out of earshot. My eyes watch as she takes her first sip of tea while my hand reaches into my pocket, wraps around my phone, and bring it up to place a call.
“Don’t you dare. I realize she’s family to you, but this concerns the two of us first. I’m not telling my mother until I’ve had an appointment, and since I already have a gynecologist who is also an obstetrician, I’ve got it covered.”
“Then I suggest you make the call now, get the appointment by today, or I’ll be taking over whether you like it or not. As much as my money was an issue for you earlier, set it aside. There’s no reason a pregnant woman should be fainting. I’m sure you ate last night. It’s only going on ten in the morning, and the weather isn’t the issue. New Orleans is cooler than it usually is this time of year.” She takes another sip of the tea, narrowing her gaze above the dainty teacup. I’d probably break it by setting it down, and I’m sure it’s an heirloom.
“You know, I don’t particularly care for you right now.” The paleness is gone, she’s no longer looking green around the gills, and there’s that saucy side of her shining through.
“That’s okay. You will later when I’m fucking that attitude out of you.” That effectively shuts her up. She takes her cup of tea with her as she spins around and heads for the balcony. One thing is for certain: Amelie can run, but she can’t hide.
NINE
Amelie
“Why does he think everything can be cured with an orgasm?” I mutter to myself, taking my seat on one of the small bistro chairs I have set up on the balcony. Thankfully, my stomach isn’t rolling with the urge to purge the small amount of tea I drank. Now, my emotions, sickness, it all makes sense. Chalk it up to the pregnancy and making me feel things I’ve never felt before. I close my eyes, inhaling the scents coming from down the streets. The spices in the gumbo, jambalaya, and crawfish are hitting already. It figures this child of mine would hate breakfast foods when I absolutely adore any and every item on any given menu to start the day.
“You’re going to need this in order to make an appointment with your doctor.” The man of the hour walks out, interrupting my tirade right as I was getting ready to blame him and his super sperm for making me the way I am—annoyed, horny, happy, then confused all in a matter of minutes.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious. I was trying to drink my tea before it got cold, but I’ll do it now. Clearly, you’ve got zero patience.” And now I’m going to need to add bratty to the list. It’s funny how you can miss a person, then suddenly, they’re back in your life. You would think it’d be the happiest day in your life when all you want to do is rewind the clock, get some sleep, and start over.
“Nope, not when it comes to you and our child. Amelie, there are only a handful of people I care about in my life. You’re one of them, probably more than my brothers and their significant others. I’m going to worry, more so now. You fainted, beautiful, full-blown body trying to drop down to the ground, then, when you’re coherent, you tell me you’re pregnant. I’m allowed to be concerned. Please make the call.” I take my phone from him and place it on the table. Boston sits down in the chair opposite of me, his big body dwarfing the balcony and the chair.
“I’ve already made the call. I made an appointment after my test came back positive. It’s for later this afternoon. And while I can understand your concern, is it possible to, I don’t know, maybe talk instead of order me around in the future?”
“Well, I stand corrected.” He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair. He still doesn’t apologize, which is fine by me because I won’t either. Being bitchy is absolutely warranted.
“I’ll say.” My tea is gone, and the queasiness is finally gone, too. My mom and her intuition. Add a little creole on the side, and Isabelle LeBlanc Boudreaux probably has a sneaking suspicion on my being pregnant.
“Still, Amelie, I’ll be there. You get that I’m here to stay. We’ve got a lot of shit to work through, but we’re making this work. Shit, beautiful, if I had it my way, we’d have done things a fuck of a lot faster, including you being tied to me in a permanent way. I don’t deserve that, not yet. When the time is right and you’re not ready to upchuck the contents of your stomach, we’ll talk, hash things out, figure out a solid game plan, one that doesn’t have you pissed as hell.” Boston drops his forearms to his spread thighs, eyes staying on me the entire time he’s talking. This man right here, he’s the one I gave more than my body to, even if I shouldn’t have. The heart wants what the heart wants, and my heart wants Boston. Any way I can have him.