AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I tell Colton so, too. “Yeah, man. Honestly, at this point, she’s the only woman I can see having my kid.” And it’s true, too—I can fucking picture her artfully inked belly swollen with my baby so clearly. It’s honestly kind of hot to imagine.
The weight of my words settles over the both of us, though the true meaning of them doesn’t hit me until much later.
I freshen up at the office before heading to the house to grab Stacia, hoping like hell she took me at my word when I told her to dress sexy. Then again, she could wear a burlap sack and I’d still probably pop a chub; she’s just that hot.
Knocking on my own front door is a little weird, but I want this date to be as date-like as possible. Which means waiting on the porch for my girl—not that she’s mine.
But she could be, my brain shouts.
A moment or two later, the door swings open, and I fucking swallow my tongue at the sight of her, a vision in red. Her Jessica Rabbit-red hair is styled in that way designed to make a man think of sex, and her lips are painted a shade or two darker than her shining locks.
As I drag my hungry eyes over her, I find myself noticing things about her that I’ve never paid attention to on a woman before. Like the way her long, sooty lashes nearly touch her brows and the way her brown eyes seem to glimmer with specks of gold.
She has her bull ring—as I like to call it—flipped up, but the hoop on her nostril glints, a little red stone winking at me from its center.
Her red dress fits as though she was poured into it. With spaghetti-thin straps, the top resembles a bra with a V between the cups, showing off her ample—and biteable—cleavage. From there, the fabric sweeps down her body, clinging to her like a second skin, ending mid-thigh.
The look is wrapped up with matching red heels. She’s all curves and confidence as I lick my lips, helping myself to a second serving, dragging my eyes back up to hers. I pause at the soft curve of her belly, visible through the stretchy, clingy material of her dress, and I can’t help but wonder if her panties are red as well.
She clears her throat, and I find my words. “You look fucking decadent.”
She laughs through her nose. “Decadent?”
I step closer, skimming my hands over her hips, pulling her into me. “Good enough to eat.” My voice is low, wolfish, hungry.
She inhales a stuttered breath and puts a little distance between us. “Ready?”
I give her one last once-over. “More than.” I offer her my arm and she takes it as I walk her to my car and help her into the passenger seat.
“Where are we going?” Stacia asks as I drive us out of town. All I offer in reply is a tight-lipped smile. When I veer onto the interstate on-ramp, she asks again. “Seriously, West. Where?”
“Shh,” I murmur as I reach for the volume dial on the stereo. “Just let me surprise you.”
Shockingly, she nods and settles back into her seat as I crank the volume, flooding the small space with music.
An hour later, we’ve reached our first destination of the night—dinner. I park and kill the engine before coming around to open her door. “Hope you’re hungry,” I tell her as I press my palm to the small of her back, guiding her to the entrance.
“Always.” On cue her stomach rumbles as I open the door for us, holding it to allow her to pass. “Oh my God,” she moans as we step into the cozy space. “It smells like heaven.”
She’s not wrong either. The scent of sizzling garlic, roasted tomatoes, and fresh basil cling to the air. Stacia takes in the space as I speak to the hostess, who quickly whisks us back to our table.
Over delicious and crusty rosemary bread, Stacia and I swap stories of our childhoods. The difference in our respective upbringings strikes me; hers was happy and relatively normal, whereas mine was a literal shitshow.
Our conversation pauses when our main courses are delivered, and we lose ourselves to the delicious and authentic Italian flavors.
“Oh, shit,” I start as our plates are cleared. “I’m such a jackass. How was your interview?”
She beams. “I got the job!”
My heart pinches at the thought of seeing her less. What the…weird. “Oh, yeah? Tell me about it?”
“It’s…I’ll be waitressing.” She shrugs.
“Nothing wrong with that.” I hold her eyes, blue locked on brown, conveying my sincerity. “Not a single thing.”
“Thanks. I know that, it’s just…everything feels so…heavy.”
I’m half-tempted to tell her I’ll solve all of her money problems if she’d just have my baby, but that seems sleazy, and if—when—she agrees to this, I want it to be on her terms and not because I manipulated her into it. “I can’t even imagine. Hopefully tonight we can take your mind off of everything for a while.”
