Page 50 of Kicking Up Dust

“I don’t want to tell you!”

“Well, baby, I don’t know how I’m supposed to help you feel better if you won’t tell me the problem.”

She glares at me. Apparently, making sense wasn’t a part of tonight’s agenda, and I have royally fucked up by trying to do so.

Colt

Any idea why Blair’s crying about ice cream not “working”?

I shoot the text over to my mom and tap the sides of my phone, waiting impatiently for an update. Blair picks her bowl back up, scraping her spoon along the bottom while she sniffles. It’s absolutely pitiful, and it’s gutting me.

“Do you want some gummy bears?” I ask her, thinking maybe she’s just craving something sweet and doesn’t want to ask me to go get her more. She’s been shy about asking for what she needs, but I’m trying to break her of that habit.

“No,” she replies sternly.

“Sure, sure,” I say with a nod. Someone knocks on my door before I can come up with another question to ask. Probably a saving grace. My eyes flick over Blair to make sure she’s okay with me opening the door in her current state. She sets her bowl on the nightstand and wipes her face again.

“Come in.”

Mama pokes her head in, brows immediately furrowing as she takes in Blair’s splotchy cheeks. Blair sees her pity and finds comfort in it she couldn’t find in me, apparently, because she bursts into tears again. Mama tuts, pushing into my room and damn near shoving me off my bed so she can sit by Blair instead.

“The ice cream isn’t working,” Blair repeats to her, and Mama makes sense of it somehow, shushing her and thumbing away her tears.

She pulls a bottle of water out of her housecoat, taking the lid off and passing the bottle to Blair.

“Drink this and lie on your left side for a bit, okay? I’ve had it in the freezer since supper.”

“Does anyone want to tell me what’s going on?”

“No, dear,” Mama says, patting my cheek on her way out the door.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair as I take a seat on the bed again. Blair chugs her water.

“Another episode?” she asks when she pulls the bottle away to take a gasp of air, all signs of her emotional turmoil gone. Water clings to her cherry lips and I want to lick it away, but I’m not sure if it would be welcome. Neither of us has spoken about the other night and what it meant for us. I’ve been trying to let her lead.

“Sure,” I agree, sitting back against the headboard and reaching for the remote, resigned to the fact I won’t get answers.

She shoots up in the bed midway through the next episode, scaring the shit out of me while I was doing my absolute best to understand why one of the rich kids is trying to pretend he isn’t rich when he clearly is.

“What? What’s the matter?” I ask quickly, a little too loud as she yanks my hand out of my lap.

She puts it against her stomach, flattening my fingers out for me and pressing it against her.

“What?” I ask again as she stares at me expectantly, smiling widely.

I feel it a second later. A bump against my hand that clearly wasn’t caused by Blair. Her smile grows, eyes alight as mine widen.

“Holy fucking shit, was that her?” I ask, though who else could it have possibly been? My other hand comes up to rest against her stomach as well and I watch Blair’s stomach, waiting for more movement as everything in me settles.

“She kicked off and on throughout the day, but no one else has felt her. Just you and me,” Blair tells me and I want to grab her face in both hands and press my lips against hers so badly, but I don’t want to move away from her stomach either.

Inside, our little girl kicks again.

“Hey, baby girl,” I say, lowering myself to the bed. Blair pulls the hem of her shirt up and I press my forehead against her belly, waiting for her to move again. “I’m your daddy.”

I choke over the words, my emotions getting the best of me, and Blair’s fingers find my hair. I’d seen pictures of this little one, and watched her move on the ultrasound, but nothing ever made her feel as real to me as she does right now.

My entire world is in my hands—this baby and her mama—and I’ll be damned if I don’t make sure they have the very best version of myself I can be. I’m already trying my best, but fuck if I don’t want to try even harder now.