Love You, Baby Page 7

  “That’s pretty cool.”

  Merit’s comment gave her a little thrill of pride. It was where her lawnmower fund had gone when their usual sponsor unexpectedly backed out. She hated fixing the mower, but she’d keep doing it for the kids.

  He then shifted his gaze to her, and his smile dimmed slightly. “Sorry I’m late. The line at the coffee shop took longer than I expected.”

  And just like that, her pleasure at seeing him fled.

  Long line, or did you get caught up flirting with Lyssa?

  She bit back the sarcastic question and turned Ian toward the truck. “Go get buckled in.”

  “I can drive,” Merit offered.

  “Our stuff is already loaded in the truck.”

  She watched him watch Ian. The bright sunlight glinted off his dark hair that appeared to have only been finger-combed. He hadn’t bothered to shave either, and the dark layer of scruff gave him a rugged, sexy air and set off butterflies in her stomach.

  There was a smear of orange just below his left earlobe, but before she could figure out what it was, he shifted his gaze back to her. The angle of the sunlight turned his eyes luminescent, and the hypnotizing effect of his dark lashes and brows with the warm, caramelly brown of his irises almost made her forget she was annoyed.

  “Thanks for waiting for me,” he said.

  “I waited for Ian, not you.”

  His gaze narrowed, flicking toward her truck, and then back to her. “Okay, then. You lead. I’ll follow.”

  It was stupid to take two vehicles. However, knowing he stopped for coffee from his booty call before coming to see her and Ian, she didn’t feel inclined to correct him.

  “By the way, I got you a cup.” He reached toward his console and then held it out the window to her. “I don’t know how you take it, so I got cream and sugar on the side.”

  “Pregnant women aren’t supposed to…” Her voice faltered when her brain registered the black and red Java Hut logo on the cup. Not Brew For You. “Have caffeine,” she finished.

  “Oh. Shit. I didn’t know that.” He pulled it back.

  Inordinately pleased he’d gone to a different coffee shop, she shrugged lightly. “Doesn’t mean I can’t have a little here and there.”

  He raised his eyebrows, and she held out her hand with a small, olive-branch smile. He grinned back as if she’d given him a rainbow, and handed her the cup.

  “Thanks.”

  “Cream or sugar?”

  “Both.” He passed them through the window as well.

  Mae figured since she’d extended the branch, she might as well offer the tree. She motioned toward her truck with her head. “Why don’t you ride with us? No sense wasting gas.”

  Merit didn’t even take two seconds to consider before grabbing his own cup and his sunglasses off the dash.

  He hopped out to join her, and she had to wipe a silly grin off her face when he first hurried to open her door for her, then loped around to get in on the passenger side. He took her cup and added the extras as she backed out of the driveway.

  She hadn’t had coffee since the morning she’d taken the pregnancy test, and she enjoyed every savory sip that slid down her throat as she drove to the field while the guys talked soccer. They arrived a few minutes before eight, and Ian ran to join his team while she and Merit loaded their arms with the chairs, cooler, and a blanket.

  On their way to the sidelines, Mae called out greetings to the parents she knew. She noticed some curious glances, and more than a few of the moms checked Merit out from head to toe and back up again. She wanted to tell them to back the hell off, but reined in the possessive green monster and set up camp a little farther down the sidelines than normal.

  And really, it was hard to blame them. His face was pretty enough, but the rest of him was looking exceptionally yummy in a snug, gray T-shirt, extremely worn jeans that hugged his backside perfectly, and tennis shoes.

  It was interesting how each of the brothers had their own style. Asher liked jeans without holes and crisp, untucked button up shirts with sleeves rolled to the elbows. Loyal was always pressed and tucked in his khaki’s and smart vests. While Merit, other than the one time she saw him in a tux for his brother’s wedding, seemed to favor T-shirts and jeans, holes and rips be damned. No one would ever guess the guy was worth well over seven figures.

  “Chairs and a blanket?” he asked as she spread out her red, white, and blue throw in front of the chairs.

  “Yep. Keeps people from sitting in front of us.”

  “You’re kidding. They do that?”

  “The second time an opposing team’s parents did it to me with umbrellas, I started bringing the blanket. Hasn’t happened since.”

  “Ok-ay.”

  “Plus, I can stretch out if I want.”

  “Can I join you?”

  The husky, suggestive question made her heart skip even as she darted a quick glance around to see if anyone had overheard him. “It’s a kid’s soccer game,” she admonished in a low tone. “Keep your mind out of the gutter.”

  “You’re going to have to help me with that.” He grinned. “My mind took up permanent residence in the gutter round about the time I turned thirteen.”

  She twisted to face him, hands braced on her hips. “Well, then, have a seat, and I’ll tell you all about having to pee every half-hour when the baby is sitting on my bladder. Then there’s the heartburn, swollen ankles, weight gain and stretch marks—”

  “Stop. Please.” He held up both hands in surrender. “That’s way too much seduction for me to handle with all these people around.”

  Mae laughed as she dropped down into one of the canvas chairs. He sat in the other and drained the rest of his Java Hut cup before tossing the empty under his chair.

  “How do you take your coffee?” she asked. Partly because she was curious, and partly to distract herself from thinking about how persistent he was now, but things would change when she had swollen ankles and stretch marks.

  “I had a caramel mocha latte.”

  “Ah. So just a little coffee with your sugar?”

  “Yep.” He smiled and extended his legs to cross them at the ankles as he slouched in the chair. Then he lolled his head in her direction to give her a wicked grin as he eyed her over the rim of his sunglasses. “I like it sweet, remember?”

  It was the “remember?” tacked on at the end that stole her breath away. That, and the return of his low, husky tone shot heat straight to her core. The one night they’d spent together, he’d said she tasted sweeter than honey.

  “Merit,” she whispered in warning.

  His eyes darkened as his lashes lowered, his attention zeroing in on her mouth. She realized she’d licked her lips at the same time the referee blew the whistle to start the game. She jumped about three inches, and heard Merit’s low groan as she turned to watch the kids run across the field. Ian’s team was in red and white, the opposing team in green and black.

  Mae took a sip of her coffee, but it was too hot with the sizzling heat burning under her skin, so she held it out to the sexy devil beside her. “I probably shouldn’t drink any more of this. You want the rest?”

  “Sure.”

  The brush of his fingers against hers sent her pulse soaring again. As soon as he took the coffee cup, she stripped off her hoodie and fished a water bottle out of the cooler. After guzzling a quarter of the contents, it took effort to keep from pressing the cold plastic against her neck and into the V of her breasts.

  Her nipples tightened, and she did a covert glance to make sure they weren’t poking out like little twin peaks. Nope, all good. Though, damn, her cleavage was way more pronounced in her top, her chest having already increased a cup size with the pregnancy.

  She and Merit had only had that one night together, but she wondered if he’d notice. He’d seemed to really enjoy playing with her breasts, and had done magical things with his hands and his mouth—

  Focus on the field, not the man next to you.
Focus on the kids.

  K.I.D.S.

  While she stared across the field, Merit sat forward to brace his forearms on his knees. “What number is Ian again?”

  She pointed out his number four jersey on the opposite side, and then gladly answered all his questions about the rules in between calling out encouragement to the players and cheering when they made a goal. With Merit there, self-consciousness held her back a little, until Ian kicked the ball into the net ten seconds before half-time.

  She jumped to her feet and put her fingers to her lips to blow a loud whistle. Ian had told her last year he could always hear her whistle so it had become their thing. Then she clapped and cheered, and lifted a hand to Merit for a high-five.

  He slapped her raised palm with a grin. “You really get into this, don’t you?”

  “That’s my kid out there,” she boasted proudly, sitting back down as the ref signaled for half-time.

  “Impressive whistle you got there.”

  “Thanks.” She craned her head to watch Ian run to the sidelines, then sat back in her chair and reached for her water.

  “I want to come to your doctor appointments.”

  Mae’s stomach flipped over at the sudden switch in Merit’s tone from teasing to serious. The unexpected subject change triggered an initial flash of fear about letting him get too close. But before her defenses soared sky high, she made herself pause for a beat.

  Benefit of the doubt, remember? He’s here—and this is the second time he’s asked.

  “Okay.”

  He arched his brows as she took a drink of water.

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “My first one is scheduled for Tuesday at nine-thirty. I’ll text you the office address.”

  “Right now?”

  “Um…” At his expectant look, she pulled out her phone and sent him the info. A second later, his phone made a humming noise in his pocket.

  “Thank you.” His chin lowered, his attention shifting toward her stomach. “It’s hard to believe there’s a baby in there. You don’t look pregnant.” He jerked his gaze up. “That’s not to say that I doubt you are. I swear, I didn’t mean it that—”

  “Relax, I get what you mean,” she assured him with a soft laugh. “Give it a month or two. But right now, I’m at eleven weeks, so the baby is only about the size of a lime.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I have a book that goes through the size from week to week.”

  “Can I see it when we get back to your place?”

  “Sure.” But then she had to turn away, because tears had suddenly flooded her eyes. Merit shifted in his chair, and in her peripheral vision, she saw him push his sunglasses up while leaning forward with a frown.

  “What’s the matter?”

  She shook her head, tried to stop the tears, but then gave up and turned to him with an embarrassed, watery laugh. “Just another one of those sexy things about pregnancy. I cry at the drop of a hat.”

  “Or me asking to read a book?”

  His soft smile melted her heart, and she wiped her cheeks. “Yeah. Ian’s father…well, let’s say he had a very different reaction than you so far. He didn’t even want me to have Ian, and he signed his rights away the day he was born.”

  “I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been. I’m sorry.”

  “So was I, but mostly for Ian. It’s probably best he has nothing to do with him. He wasn’t the man I thought he was.”

  “It’s his loss,” Merit murmured as his gaze met hers. “Big time.”

  And maybe he’s not the only one who’s not the man I thought he was.

  She swallowed hard at the intensity of his gaze, and when she lowered her lashes, she noticed the speck of orange under his ear again. She automatically reached to wipe it off, but caught herself just before her fingers touched his face.

  He grasped her hand when she started to retreat. “What?”

  The warmth of his hand engulfed hers, and she had to take a second to focus. “You have something by your ear.”

  His brows drew together as he let her go. The kids were returning to the field and the whistle blew as he swiped his hand over his ear. “Did I get it?”

  “No. It’s still there. It’s just below.”

  He wiped again, and arched his dark brows.

  “Nope.”

  “Then you get it.”

  He leaned in, and she found her gaze locked with his for a heart-stopping moment. Swallowing hard, she shifted her attention and reached up to swipe her thumb over the spot.

  “It looks like paint,” she commented. “Where you using orange paint on something?”

  He stiffened slightly and reached to replace her hand with his. “I, uh—”

  A cheer went up on the field. Mae whipped around to see Ian’s teammates high-fiving him near the net. “Damn it. I missed his goal.”

  She never missed his goals.

  “I was told I’d get yelled at for saying words like that,” Merit murmured.

  “You will if you say them in front of my son,” she retorted as she saw Ian looking their way. She hurried to give him the whistle, and he shot her a grin and a wave before running back to his spot in time to resume play.

  Determined to keep her son front and center, Mae made sure to watch the rest of the game instead of getting distracted by the man beside her.

  Chapter 11

  Merit slung both chairs in their carrying cases up over his shoulder, then grabbed the cooler from Mae’s hand so they could switch to a field on the other side of the complex for Ian’s second game. He was having fun, even though she’d avoided looking at him since he’d taken a quick trip to the bathroom to make sure he got rid of all the paint.

  Orange fucking paint. On his face.

  Dipshit.

  Thankfully, Mae either forgot about it, or she didn’t care enough to resume the conversation. Then again, the thought of showing her what he’d worked on after leaving her place last night gave him an electrifying jolt of excitement.

  Until he recalled her ex had been a musician with no job, and he’d mooched off her as he fucked around with other women.

  Merit was still hunting for a job, his cash stash had dwindled as alarmingly as bills had rolled in over the past week, and though Loyal hadn’t called him Mooch in a while, the hated nickname was sure to slip out sooner or later. Mae was too gun-shy the way it was. The less she knew about the similarities between him and her ex the better, so there would be no baring of his soul or his secret retreat anytime soon.

  As they passed the concession stand, Ian sprinted ahead a dozen yards, shouting, “Uncle Bryce! We won!”

  A tall guy with light brown hair caught the kid for a hug. They each stepped back to do an elaborate handshake that ended in the universal hand explosion as Mae and Merit joined them.

  “How many goals?” Uncle Bryce asked.

  “Two.”

  “Jinkies. You’re an all-star, Scoob.”

  “Thanks.” Ian beamed. “I gotta go practice with Cory. You gonna watch with Mom and Merit?”

  The guy’s blue gaze flicked up and locked with Merit’s for a moment. Then he ruffled Ian’s blond hair. “You betcha. Go get ‘em.”

  He took off running, and Mae moved forward. “Hey, Bryce.” She gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek. “I thought you were working this morning.”

  “The boss knocked off early with the storms coming later. Said he had to get home and get some work done, so here I am.”

  “Here you are.” She didn’t sound all that happy to see him. “Well...this is Merit. Merit, this my youngest brother, Bryce.”

  Ah. She hadn’t wanted to make the introduction. Tamping down on a little jab of hurt, he shifted the cooler to his left hand. Before he could offer a handshake, the guy braced his feet shoulder width apart and crossed his arms.

  “You must be the guy who knocked up my sister.”

  Mae gasped and backhanded him on the arm. “Bryce!”
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  “What? Is this not the guy?”

  “I’m the guy,” Merit confirmed, standing a little straighter as he squared his shoulders.

  “Still, you don’t just say something like that,” Mae snapped at her brother in a low undertone. “What if it wasn’t him?”

  “Did you suddenly start serial dating?”

  She frowned. “Of course not.”

  “Then it stands to reason, if you haven’t been with anyone since the jerkwad, and this guy’s here with you and Ian today, then he must be your baby daddy.”

  “Oh, my God, shut up already,” she hissed as she cast a furtive look around.

  Merit didn’t care she was worried about anyone overhearing them. He was stuck on the haven’t been with anyone since the jerkwad bit. Could that be true? He watched her face. If it was, then he’d been her first in over seven years. Because her and Ian’s birthdays were only a week away.

  No way.

  “Am I wrong?” Bryce asked.

  “He already told you you’re not.”

  Fuck. Maybe it had been seven years—

  “What are your intentions with my sister?”

  Merit flicked his gaze to her brother as Mae muttered, “Oh, God.”

  He looked the guy right in the eye. “To not be a jerkwad.”

  Bryce stared him down, then grinned and extended his hand. “Welcome to the family.”

  The shake was firm and short, but friendly enough that a wave of relief caught Merit by surprise. He hadn’t expected to care what her family thought of him, especially a younger brother. In truth, he hadn’t even thought about her family beyond Ian. He didn’t know about her family beyond Ian. He was going to have to fix that.

  “How old are you?” Bryce asked.

  The question surprised him into an automatic reply. “Twenty-six.”

  “At least you’re older than me, but still…” The guy arched a brow at his sister. “Cradle robber.”

  Mae rolled her eyes and reached out to grab the cooler from Merit’s hand. “Three years difference is hardly robbing the cradle.”

  He’d have to agree with her. A few years between them was insignificant in his mind.