Nick’s tone was tight as he clipped out every word. “For making her come downtown. You know how I feel about the paternity thing man. So don’t even go there.”
He’s a lost cause. Changing the subject, Kevin wanted to know, “So how is Summer? Can I talk to her?”
Dragging his hand down his face, Kevin was pushing it as usual. “Man, she’s driving me crazy. And no, you can’t talk to her.”
“Driving you crazy?” There was an air of amusement in Kevin’s voice. Nick was a trip. He was the one who insisted the poor girl come to his office with the threat of a snowstorm. Serves him right, Kevin thought.
“Man, I’m so confused. She looks so pitiful. I want to take her in my arms one minute and tell her everything’s going to be okay. But then I look at her big belly and get pissed off all over again. I don’t know if I can take having her here…so close.”
“Well you should’ve thought about that before you made her come out knowing a damn storm was coming. If you had, Summer would be home and you’d be alone.”
“Yeah, I hear you man. To make matters worse every time I say something to her she jumps like a spooked cat.”
Grunting into the phone, Kevin warned, “Stop acting like a damned beast and maybe the poor girl will relax some. You need to chill and lightening up a bit.”
As much as he wanted to cuss Kevin out, he refrained himself. He knew he meant well. But Kevin would never understand how much this thing with Summer was affecting him. At least not until something like this happened to him. The way Kevin chased skirts he’d have a heart attack if one of those skirts told him he was about to get caught up in some baby momma drama.
“Listen, Kevin, man I need to go.”
“A’ight man. I’ll check you later.
“Later.”
Chapter 8
Slowly Summer stripped out of her clothes. She took her time to remove every piece. The longer she took, the longer she delayed seeing him. She pulled on the oversized tee shirt then padded over to the huge walk-in closet. I know I look a hot mess. Opening the door to the closet, staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the door, she groaned, “I am so fat.” Her protruding belly making the tee shirt rise higher than normal made her suddenly uncomfortable with her expanding body. She shrugged slim shoulders. “Oh well.” Stepping back, gently closing the door, she picked up her wet clothes and headed to find Nick.
He had changed into a white tee shirt which amplified his broad chest and a pair of jeans that clung to muscular thighs. Standing at the island in the center of the kitchen he was preparing dinner as Summer came waddling into the kitchen, entering as quietly as possible.
Sensing her presence, Nick stopped dicing or chopping, whatever it was he was doing to look at her. Heaven help him, she was absolutely gorgeous. The tee shirt stopping mid-thigh revealing shapely legs and bare feet showed more skin than he’d seen on her in awhile.
Summer flushed, turning crimson from Nick’s gaze. Holding out the wet clothes, she asked in a small voice, “Can I wash these?”
“You know where everything is.” His tone was indifferent as he returned to his task.
Moving pass him to the laundry room she proceeded to set the washer on the proper setting of water, added detergent, and then her clothes. Putting everything back in its place, Summer went back into the kitchen. Nick was still at the task of preparing dinner.
Wanting to feel useful she offered, “Is there anything I can help with?”
Never making eye contact or breaking his focus, blowing her off, he said, “No, I’m good. Go watch television or something.”
Nick was not having it. No way was he going to allow Summer to get close to him. Refusing her help had hurt her feelings; he saw it all in facial expression. If he allowed her to get close, it would only confuse him even further. She would become a distraction stealing him from his thoughts. He had to maintain his priorities. The first being finding out why she had played him.
Feeling dismissed, Summer plopped down at the foot of the king size bed. She grabbed the remote from the nightstand and flicked on the large screen plasma television. Clicking through the channels, she peeped at the digital clock on the dresser. It read3:28. Good, Martin is about to come on.
Summer felt like she needed a good laugh to ease the stress that had been building all day. If she wasn’t careful, she possibly could start having premature contractions again. Dr. Neil constantly reminded her she needed to remain as stress free as possible. Yeah right. So far, everything was cool; as far as the contractions went, she hadn’t felt a thing except normal active fetal movement.