Page 82 of Kicking Up Dust

“What’s that?” Colt asks, brows furrowed.

Theo nudges his chin at me. “Go up behind Blair and reach around under her stomach,” he says, waiting until Colt follows the instructions. “Put your hands on either side there, a little lower, yep. Now, she’s gonna lean back on you when you do this, so make sure you’re steady and then really gently lift her belly up. Not fast and not far but⁠—”

Colt does as he says and the instant euphoria that comes with the loss of pressure on my back makes me slump back against him, my head finding a resting spot on his shoulder.

“Oh my god.”

Theo chuckles. “Annie did the same thing when she was pregnant with Callie,” he says, and I expect to see sadness in his eyes when I open mine to look at him, but I don’t. He seems happy to have been able to pass on this trick.

“Thank you,” I tell him, feeling slightly bad for Colt because I’m going to be asking him to do this at least three times a day now.

Kenny comes up before Theo can reply, her hand sliding along his arm in a way I clock immediately, even if Theo doesn’t seem to. “Can Callie have a s’more?”

“Your call,” he replies, smiling down at her. I blink, turning to look at Colt the best I can in this position and he side-eyes me as well. We’ll discuss it at home tonight, I’m sure.

“When you go to let go, just make sure you do it gently, not all at once,” Theo advises before walking off.

Colt holds me for another thirty seconds or so before letting go, pressing a kiss to my neck in apology.

“You want to go sit down? Looks like the smoke’s blowing north so we’ll just sit over by Bails.”

“Will you make me a s’more?”

He chuckles, leading me over. “Of course, mama.”

I chat with Bailey while Colt stands beside Kenny, one hand in his pocket and the other wrapped around a stick with a marshmallow on the end. My mouth waters as I watch him. Callie bumps Kenny, causing her to accidentally push her stick too far into the flames, catching fire to her marshmallow. Colt passes the one he’d been roasting for me to her before Callie can start crying, shooting me an apologetic smile.

“So… Theo and Kenny?” I ask Bailey quietly.

She snorts. “Once Theo gets his head out of his ass, I’d imagine, yeah. She’s had a crush on him since we were kids, though it died down a bit when he got married. Then she started watching Callie and, well, she’s practically Callie’s bonus mom at this point. Fighting to get Callie in her class next year too.”

I imagine that’s a hard dynamic. For Theo. For Kenny. For Bailey. Even if I don’t know everything, I know enough to know she wants to be a mother. I imagine watching Kenny play mommy is probably just as hard as me being pregnant is for her, but she doesn’t seem to want us censoring anything just for her sake, so I don’t bring it up.

Colt brings back my s’more and I reach for it in delight, but he pulls it back, helping me stand up instead so he can take my spot and I can sit on his thigh. There’s not a ton of space for him to sit otherwise.

When I’m seated, he passes it to me and I barely get it within an inch of my mouth before I’m shoving it away and covering my nose. It smells absolutely abhorrent. Sickly sweet. My stomach rolls and my throat clenches as I wave the s’more around until someone finally gets the hint and takes it.

I turn back, with watery eyes from gagging, just quick enough to see Bailey taking a bite out of my s’more and for some godawful reason, that makes me cry.

FORTY-FOUR

BLAIR

35 Weeks

Baby is the size of a riding crop

Colt’s jacking off in the bathroom. He’s trying to hide it with the sound of the shower, but he’s already moaned my name no less than ten times in the past fifteen minutes and I’m honestly starting to worry about the state of his cock.

It had been a very long day of helping Austin with her Quitter’s renovation—which was mostly me just sitting at one of the tables and doing busy work that kept me included without putting me in harm’s way, according to Austin—and I was people’d out. Unfortunately for Colt, that included sex.

Hence him trying—and seemingly failing—to jack off in the bathroom and pretend he’d just naturally become unaroused simply because I wasn’t interested and he didn’t want to pressure me.

But Colt can come quickly—and that’s not to say anything about him; it has far more to do with how utterly obsessed with me he is—and fifteen minutes is really pushing it. I want him in bed so we can go to sleep.

“Colt,” I call, making my voice loud enough that he can hear it over the wasted water.

“Yeah, babe?” he calls back, and he sounds almost out of breath, which is hilarious.