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“Yeah. Love. As in, over the moon, fucking crazy about her.”
His usually stern face breaks into a smile. “Good for you. Truly, I’m happy for you. I’ll whip up this contract while y’all eat. Oh, and hey, your girl’s purse and keys are in my car.”
“Thanks, man.” I stand again and head for the door.
“Oh, and, West,” Colton calls after me. “I’ll take three tacos—the ones with the red cabbage and the cotija cheese, extra lime wedges.”
I nod. “You got it.”
With my hand on the knob, Colton stops me again. “I wasn’t joking when I said quadruple.”
I toss my head back and laugh as I walk out of his office. Jackass.
Outside, I look for Stacia, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Until a flash of red catches my eye through the window of the business next door—the baby store.
A self-satisfied smile tugs at my lips as I enter the store. In front of the back wall, there’s an oversized counter with two cash registers. Shelves stack the wall behind it, loaded down with a variety of baby trinkets—rattles, brushes, mirrors, cups, pacifiers, and more. To the left, there’s a few furniture displays. To the right, there’s neatly folded displays of the tiniest clothing I’ve ever seen, as well as the hottest woman to ever shop for them.
I make my way over to her, loving the sight of her in here. “Found you.”
She turns and grins. “Gah. I guess I’m putting the cart before the horse, here, huh?”
I take the small outfit from her and examine it. I’m holding what has to be the smallest sweatshirt known to mankind. It’s a golden yellow color with a patchwork rainbow on the front in orange, blue, and a creamy white. Plainly put, it’s fucking cute, and I don’t care how lame that makes me sound. “Nine months will pass in the blink of an eye.”
“You don’t think I’m crazy to be in here shopping for a baby we haven’t even made yet?”
“Far from it. Honestly, watching you in here, seeing you hold these small-ass clothes…all it does is make me want to take you home and take you straight to bed.”
Stacia pretends to clutch her pearls. “You mean you wanna take me to bed without feeding me first? What kind of man are you?”
I give her a wolfish smile. “An insatiable one with the hottest baby mama in the damn world.”
She laughs, and the sound is pure magic. “See anything else you like?”
“Only everything. This whole line is to die for.”
I glance down to the table, my eyes roving over the various outfits. A pair of sweatpants that coordinate with the top I’m holding catch my eye, and I grab the smallest pair. “Let’s get these.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah, really. Our baby’s first outfit.”
We head to the register where I pay. As the cashier bags up our purchase, Stacia leans in and whispers in my ear, “Now we’ve really gotta get to work.”
“Swear to God,” I growl, “the second we get home…”
She grins, heading for the door. “But we’ve gotta get food for Colton first and sign the contract.”
I sweep her into a hug from behind. “Fuck Colton and fuck food; I’ll just eat you.”
A small, barely audible moan slips past her pink-slicked lips, and it takes my all not to toss her into the front seat and floor it all the way back to our place.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Stacia
West and I grab my purse and keys from Colton’s car and stash them, along with our shopping bag, in his before heading down a block to the best little taco truck that ever was.
Technically, they have an actual brick and mortar location on the other side of town as well. The line is long, but fast moving, and well worth the wait.
When it’s our turn, West prompts me to go first, and I waste no time ordering three General Tso’s tacos—which is super weird for me. I always get spicy beef tacos, hold the lettuce. But something made me ask for these today.
I step aside for West to order—steak for Colton and chicken for him, as well as an order of chips and guac and three glass bottle Cokes. While we wait for our order, he asks, “Are the GTs any good? I’ve always wanted to try them but never have.”
“Uh, I’m not sure, honestly. I’ve never had them.”
West nods. “Adventurous, I like it.”
“That’s the thing, I’m really not. I am a creature of habit with my food. I rarely try new things.”
He looks perplexed. “Then what made you order them today?”
I shrug. “Fuck if I know. Here’s to hoping they’re good.”
Our ticket number is called and West collects our food, passing me the drinks and chips. Side-by-side, we head back to Colton’s.
Not shockingly, Colton has transformed his desk into a freaking table, complete with placemats and cutlery. “You eat your tacos with a fork?” I ask, horrified.
