And freaking Will, you’d swear the guy suddenly became the big brother I never had (or wanted) with the way he keeps forcing healthy foods on me and telling me to take it easy.
I swear I almost miss his lascivious looks and inappropriate comments because at least none of it was as stifling as having the men around me trying to lift everything from a bottle to a freaking teaspoon for me.
You’d swear being pregnant suddenly turned me into a weak, mewling idiot. Where before they’d all watch me carry a case of beer, stumbling under its weight, now they all jump when I so much as breathe near the storage room.
I appreciate all the concern, but after getting “home” last night and having poor Judith almost expire with happiness and stick to me like bubble gum under my shoe, I’m a tad crankier about their gestures than I probably should be.
Add Roman’s stubbornness to the mix and I’m about ready to start unloading old Bertha with an eye on the box of shells.
“Hey, darlin’, that lemon ain’t done nothing to deserve its fate,” Will says, making me jump when he pops up beside me with a grin.
I look down and see the remains of a lemon beneath my knife and grimace at the pulp that’s left of the poor thing.
“You bugging me for a reason, Sparrow, or is it just my lucky day?”
“Well, darlin’, I’d say it’s your lucky day with my attention being the golden ticket and all, but I just wanted to come on over and let you know that Lonnie spotted another of those assholes outside the bar. This one’s packing, so I called Miah and he’s coming over to get you home.”
Oh for the love of God.
“I can’t…please don’t make me go back there this early. She’ll make me try on freaking wedding dresses and shoes,” I whine pathetically. “You don’t understand.”
“Darlin’, why’s it that women always bitch and gripe about not having all the fancy shit they always want, but when they get it they moan about it being too much?”
I frown. My old Converse and even rattier Levi’s are my idea of designer, and I dare anyone to tell me and Bertha something different.
But I get what he’s saying. I have a whole family that wants me and wants me to let them love me. I just don’t know how. My dad was gruff and ornery and most of the time we only saw each other at breakfast or suppertime.
That’s what I’m used to, besides the quiet, intimate dinners I’d had with Roman.
“Will, have you ever been a wine-and-flowers type of guy? You know, the man who wants fancy candlelit dinners with the perfect wife and three kids at home?”
That has him turning green and I laugh when he swallows and immediately shakes his head.
“Nah. You know me, I like beer and women who are easy to please. Like you, I guess,” he says sheepishly, taking another regretful look at my belly.
“Well, that’s me. I like simple and relaxed, and with Roman that’s what I had. The man is not at all like his family, and I love that about him. He understands that I don’t do PDA, and that if I wanted something hanging on me twenty-four seven, I’d buy a scarf. The others don’t quite get that. They’re just so…”
“Loving?” He laughs and I grimace and flip him the bird.
“Too loving. Judith keeps kissing my cheeks and looking at me with stars in her eyes. You know Clari had to bribe her little brother Josh last night to keep the woman off me, and even that only worked for an hour. And Josh is the most adorable thing I ever saw. He should have kept her entertained for a good hour more. But no…”
I spent an hour listening to wedding plans I have no intention of making until my errant boyfriend gets his ass back to me alive and whole.
“You want me to shoot straight with you, darlin’? You’re not giving them a chance because you think that man of yours ain’t coming back. You don’t want to love them if he’s not gonna make you theirs. I’ve known you for a long time, Mel, and I know how your messed-up mind works. My advice is, give them a chance and have faith. That’s all we got, after all, and it makes life more bearable in the end.”
“You been watching Dr. Phil now that Dr. Oz isn’t on TV anymore? That was downright inspirational,” I say with a smile.
That gets me the bird and an unimpressed laugh as Miah strolls through the door, followed by Jared and a very mean-looking Wyatt Lane. The man looks ready to kill and I thank the sweet baby Jesus that he isn’t looking at me that way.
“I still think we should send that fool back, bloody and broken. Cleo needs a message she can’t ignore.”
“Quit it, Wyatt. We don’t want to antagonize her again. Lord knows what she’ll do to Roman. Oh hey, Mellie, you ready?”