Page 29 of Make it a Double

Although they gave me a significant raise, I suspected they were also stuffing the tip jars because my cut at the end of the night was much larger than before. There was no way customers were suddenly being that generous. Our service was good, but not like that.

Liv and I said our goodbyes, ending the call with her threat to pull me out of bed if I didn’t show up. The past six months might have turned me into something of a grumpy asshole, but I wasn’t dumb enough to call her bluff. That was one fight I wouldn’t win.

I threw my phone onto my bed and turned toward the mirror once again. Lifting my shirt, I ran my hand over my belly. My pregnancy had been easy to hide so far. I already had curves that helped disguise the fact I’d gained a few pounds, and given my unfortunate inability to keep down much that wasn’t Cherry 7UP or chicken tenders the first four months of my pregnancy, my weight gain hadn’t been substantial.

But it would seem my shy little boy was getting sick and tired of being tucked away. In a few weeks, there would be no question about whether I was pregnant. It wasn’t like I was trying to actually hide anything. Between Duke’s overly watchful eye and Gram’s bingo gals, the entire town had already become privy to my business.

My pregnancy had been quite the hot topic of conversation over the past five months. It’d single-handedly kept the Pinecrest rumor mill alive and turning. Every day brought a new baby daddy theory. One of the girls I graduated high school with actually had the audacity to suggest that Duke and I were having a wildly inappropriate affair behind Olivia’s back. While it was more than entertaining to watch Liv absolutely tear the girl a new asshole via social media, it hadn’t put anything to rest.

Part of me wanted to make up some elaborate name and story just to shut people up. Knowing the Nosy Nellie’s in this town, though, it wouldn’t matter. Nothing short of the father himself showing up and laying claim would put the matter to rest.

And that was never, ever going to happen.

Despite denying having any knowledge of who the baby’s father was, I’d been keeping tabs on Beckett Montgomery like it was my second job. He seemed to be living his best life, going to all those fancy schmancy black-tie events with a different woman on his arm every night and being named one of the most influential minds under thirty-five. I wasn’t sure how he found time in the day to get any actual work done.

Pfft. Yeah, right. I bet he didn’t even actually do anything. He was just a nepo baby who lived a life of luxury on Daddy’s dime. At least, that was what I kept telling myself so I didn’t reach for my phone and send the email in my drafts. Even if I barely knew the man, I had enough sense to know he wasn’t any of the awful things I whispered to myself late at night when the loneliness and frustration creeped in.

Walking over to my bed, I sat down and pulled my pillow to my chest. I had planned to spend tomorrow organizing all the baby gear Liv had brought over, but that was clearly no longer happening. I wasn’t someone who needed everything neat and orderly at all times. In fact, I kind of liked embracing the messier side of things.

Homes without clutter didn’t feel lived in, and I never wanted to live somewhere that didn’t feel like home. But as I stared at the piles of boxes and clothes strewn everywhere, I couldn’t help but feel my anxiety clawing at my throat.

Sometimes I wondered if I did the right thing by not reaching out to Beckett. This whole experience would’ve been easier if I didn’t have to go through everything alone. There were constant decisions I had to make. What if I made the wrong one? What if I accidentally ruined my baby’s life because I made the wrong choice?

At least if Beckett were here, we could share the burden together rather than it sitting on my shoulders alone.

And, if I were being honest, I was lonely. I hated most men these days because I was pregnant and angry at the world, but even I could admit they had their uses. Hormones had my vibrator working overtime. While the orgasms were great and all, it didn’t help the emptiness that came over me when I rolled over and faced the cold, vacant space next to me. There were no strong arms banded around my middle, or forehead kisses after bad dreams.

Why did I have to fall into bed with someone who was the most unavailable person on the planet?

Pushing myself up, I decided to get ready for bed. Exhaustion was my constant companion these days, and I’d worked nearly a week straight at this point. It didn’t happen as often as I would’ve liked, thanks to my overprotective bosses, but two employees had called out sick and they had no choice but to call me in for light duty. I was grateful for the extra cash, but my body was paying the price now.

The house was silent as I tiptoed to my bathroom. Grams had gone to bed a few hours ago. At least she didn’t have company tonight. She'd seen more action than I ever had lately. If ass-crack Harold wasn’t in our living room, rubbing her feet as they watched The Price is Right reruns, she was over at his place doing god only knew what. I refused to speculate on their extracurriculars.

After a quick shower, I brushed my teeth and padded back to my room. My bed was calling my name, and I was all too willing to answer. I needed all the rest I could get knowing Liv was going to go overboard tomorrow. A headache was already threatening to bloom at my temples. There would be no reining her in—I’d learned that the hard way.

I turned onto my side and curled up against one of the pregnancy pillows Liv bought me. This was one of the purchases I’d argued and moaned most about her buying, but in the end I’d been so grateful.

It didn’t quite ease the ache of an empty bed, but it was better than nothing.

I pulled up at Frank’s Bar fifteen minutes early despite spending half of my morning crying. None of my regular clothes fit, save for a few baggy work t-shirts and a pair of neon pink sweatpants I was forced to wear shopping today. It didn’t even match. I looked like a walking disaster.

To top it all off, I’d left my phone at the house, and there was no time to grab it before I was late.

If Liv hadn’t been so damn set on dragging me out, I would’ve canceled. The thought had crossed my mind more than once this morning. It was 2026. Why couldn’t we turn to online shopping like normal people? But realistically, we couldn’t wait. I had to work tomorrow. Even though my bosses were great and understanding, I didn’t want to serve customers in bright pink sweats.

A girl could only take so much.

Pulling into my normal parking spot, I noticed a fancy car on the other side of Duke’s truck. I didn’t recognize it, but that didn’t mean anything. Duke and Liv frequently met with fancy lawyers and liquor distributors who wanted to make an impression. I didn’t remember if they had one today, but I was about to find out.

Other than the nausea and general discomfort, one of the things I hated the most about being pregnant was my constant need to fucking pee. It was never-ending. Like I took a sip and all of a sudden it was rushing through my body to escape. I had about one minute before I embarrassed myself, and the sweatpants, further.

Duke and Liv took their meetings at the front of the bar, so I could easily sneak through the back without disturbing them. I really didn’t want to sit in my car in this weather, anyway. The heater had gone out shortly after Christmas, and would cost way too much to get fixed. If Duke and Liv found out I was driving around in this thing, they’d be pissed.

Hurrying out of my car, I noticed three boxes by the back door. Duke and Liv must not have heard the delivery guy drop them off. I stared at the boxes for only a moment before stooping down to pick them up. They were light enough, but if Duke saw me carrying them, I’d have to deal with a lecture.

Ever since he found out about my pregnancy, he’d refused to let me carry anything over five pounds, which wasn’t easy considering I worked in a bar. It’d been a fight just to convince him I could still carry a serving tray.

I slipped through the back door, careful not to let it slam behind me like it always did. The hallway was dimly lit, and I was so worried about the damn door that I tripped over my own two feet. My palms slammed into the wall as I caught myself, but the boxes went tumbling. They crashed to the ground, knocking over three more in the process. Pain immediately began radiating from my right ankle. “Ow. Fuck. Jesus Christ,” I cried out, looking down at my untied shoes.