The Trouble With Tomboys(69)

“Your name’s Banner Jewell?”

“The Banner part was supposed to be Banana,”

she explained. “Actually, it was supposed to be bananer because that’s what Pop calls bananas. But Jebediah Gilmore can’t spell worth crap, so I ended up being Banner instead.”

“Banner Jewell,” he repeated to himself.

She sighed. “I’m going to have to tell you the whole freaking story, aren’t I?”

He didn’t answer, but his look said yes.

“Okay. All right. When my mother was pregnant with me, she was always hungry for bananas. She ate them like they were going out of style. Well, Pop would tease her and say I was going to come out one big bananer if she didn’t stop. But my mom would rub her stomach and say, ‘Don’t talk about my little Jewell that way.’ And Pop would counter, ‘Don’t you mean, your bananer?’ I guess the joke was carried all the way through her pregnancy. So, when I was born, they named me Bananer Jewell. Except Pop spelled the name wrong on my birth certificate. And Bananer became Banner. And Banner Jewell quickly became B.J. Thank God.”

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“I like the name Banner,” he said, sounding

almost defensive about her bashing her own name.

“If we have a girl, I think we should name her Banner.”

“Hell no,” B.J. said, jerking upright into a sitting position to glare down at him. “I’m not putting some poor child through that name.”

He lifted his eyebrows in disagreement, but

said, “Then what were you thinking for a girl’s name?”

Totally clueless as how to answer, she muttered,

“I don’t know. I haven’t even thought about it.”

“Well…” He frowned, deep in his own thoughts for a moment. Then, “What was your mother’s

name?”

B.J.’s lips parted in shock. “Dellie,” she said, surprised he’d want one of her family names for his child. Then she remembered they’d named his

stillborn son Bennett, which had been Amy’s maiden name.

Relaxing against him, she rested her head on his shoulder. “You really want to name her after my mother?” She closed her eyes as he began to sift his fingers through her hair.

“Sure,” he said. “Why not?”

The gentle stroke of his thumb continued down the side of her throat, and she hummed her

appreciation, adding a slurred, “Thank you.”

“And what if it’s a boy?” he asked next.

But B.J. didn’t answer. She’d already fallen asleep.

194



The Trouble with Tomboys





Chapter Seventeen


Since she didn’t have anyone or anything to fly anywhere, B.J. planned on going to her house the next day to pack up the rest of her things she hadn’t already moved to Grady’s place. But Jo Ellen called before she’d even left the house, asking if she wanted to go shopping for baby necessities.

Not particularly enthused about the idea of

packing, B.J. agreed and drove to Grady’s sister’s house instead. From there, they trekked nearly an hour to the closest mall. By the time they stepped inside the baby outlet, she decided packing might not have been such a terrible idea after all.

“Holy hell,” she breathed, stopping in the

entrance to gawk at the rows and rows of infant paraphernalia. “Do I really need all this crap?”

Jo Ellen merely hooked their arms together and urged her into the store. “Let’s start at this end.”

To B.J.’s horror, they went through the entire place, stopping in every freaking aisle. Jo Ellen tried to teach her the art of comparative and bargain shopping, but it didn’t take. She had to admit, though, the newborn bootie sneakers Jo Ellen discovered were adorable. Unlike Grady’s sister, however, she was able to contain her oohing and awing, even if she did snag two pairs and shove them into her shopping cart. The only item to provoke an actual response from her was a bib exclaiming I love my Daddy. Jo Ellen merely sent her a knowing smile and tossed it into the cart as well. By seven o’clock that evening, she was dead 195







tired. Her muscles ached in places she didn’t know she had muscles, and her ankles were swollen as far as the skin would stretch. Feeling giddy, though, she realized the expectant Mommy bug had finally bitten. She started thinking about the baby to come.

Would it be a boy or a girl? Would it look more like her or Grady? Grady, she hoped.

Though Jo Ellen had successfully instilled her with excitement for a future of parenthood, she was still ready to drop into the nearest bed when she pulled into Grady’s drive at a quarter to eight. She frowned when she realized damn near every light in the house was glowing.