“I can’t fuckin’ take this shit anymore. I ain’t eatin’.” And then he was up and storming out of the back door in the kitchen toward the barn.
I watched him from the large bay window as he grabbed his practice rope and started roping the plastic dummy cow. Over and over and over.
I didn’t exactly know why he was so angry, but I felt for him. Maybe he hated the tension as much as I did. Maybe he couldn’t deal with the normalcy of everything after the events of last night. Or maybe he just hated the silence. God knows I did.
Focusing back on my plate, I took a forkful of eggs—they were the only thing I hadn’t tried yet—and bit into them just as a wave of nausea hit me full force. “Oh, fuck…” I cupped a hand over my mouth and launched out of the chair. I barely made it to the bathroom before vomiting up all the contents in my stomach.
Okay, that was totally weird.
As disgusting as it was, the taste of ash stuck to the back of my mouth. Maybe I’d inhaled more smoke than I’d realized. I waited for the nausea to pass, a dull headache blossoming as I cleaned up and made my way back to the table.
Maverick eyed me worriedly.
“I’m okay,” I offered. “I think I just ate too quickly and from all the smoke it just left me feelin’ sick.”
There wasn’t really any other way to describe it, and now that I’d thrown my guts up, I felt fine. Completely fine. I didn’t eat much more, though, but settled instead on the coffee I’d made myself.
Charlie met my gaze from across the table. “I wish that was my reasoning for the constant nausea episodes,” she said lightly. “I knew about morning sickness, but I wasn’t expecting it to be such a pain in the ass.”
“Do you get it often?” I asked.
Ryder didn’t look up from his food as he nodded, but Charlie was the one who answered. “Every fucking day. It’s such a bitch. I can’t eat eggs anymore. They smell so good being made, but the minute they touch my lips…” she made a face. “Nope. Just nope.”
“That doesn’t sound fun. How much longer are you in the first trimester for?”
“A bit. I’m just now eight weeks. I have my first official doctor’s appointment tomorrow.” She glanced at Ryder and smiled. “We’ll get to hear the baby’s heartbeat then.”
The two of them shared a look that could melt even the iciest heart. They were so perfect it was almostsickening.
I smiled, taking a sip of my coffee. “That’s awesome.”
I wondered if I’d ever be in love like that? If I’d ever look at someone like that? It was hard to imagine being that into someone that I’d settle down and have a kid with them. I’d never been the type to stay somewhere for too long. It’s why I didn’t really do exclusive relationships. Long-term hook ups, sure. But a relationship? Marriage? Babies?
I snuck a glance at Maverick, and something softened in my chest. He was hot and kind and everything good in a man. We had something between the two of us that made me want to explore more…but it was too early to know what all would unfold. He clearly had baggage, and I had my own. Two broken people together wasn’t always the best combo.
His eyes locked onto mine, and a shiver went down my spine. I wondered what he was thinking. I wanted to ask him, but it’d be useless, and I wasn’t going to try and force words out of him.
He nodded to my plate, a questioning look on his face.
“It’s amazing,” I said softly, understanding what he meant. “I’ve never been a French toast fan before, but yours is delicious.”
He eyed my half-eaten plate like he’d disagree.
“I’m only not eating because I’m afraid to throw up again. Not because of your cooking.” I offered him a reassuring smile, hoping he believed me.
Charlie and Ryder guided most of the conversation throughout the rest of breakfast. They talked and laughed as if nothing had happened last night. I appreciated it, and I think Maverick did too.He’d settled back into his chair, drinking his coffee—blacker than a midnight sky.
I turned to face him more fully as I asked, “How the hell do you drink that shit?”
He eyed me, a questioning look in his eyes as his gaze traveled between me and his cup.
“How do you drink it black?” I clarified, making a face. Daddy used to drink it like that. Not a drop of sugar, milk, or creamer. It always reminded me of oil in a cup. Just the thought sent a wave of nausea to my stomach again, but I pushed it down, taking a sip of my sugary drink to wash away the thought.
His lips pulled up into the barest ghost of a smile and he shrugged, taking a large sip from his mug.
I stuck my tongue out and shook off the disgust.
Charlie laughed, tucking her feet up under her and holding her mug in her hands. “I’ve asked him the same thing.”
