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“Good girls like bad boys,” she said with a smirk. Her thumb continued to scroll the list.
“Brian and Branson?”
I threaded a hand through my hair and exhaled. “That could work; both are nice and seem low on the name bullying spectrum.” A smile spread across my face as she turned her attention back to her phone. Although I hadn’t thought much about baby names, I wanted one of the twins’ to be named Jaimie. It was different, and I was sure Jaimie would love the idea.
The car slowed as we pulled into the driveway of a two-story brick house with a three-car garage. We were in one of the best neighborhoods in Stonebridge, and the houses were grand and separated by a fence and a long brick pathway. A woman with red hair walked up to the SUV as we were getting out and greeted us. Ian pointed to me, letting her know that I was the one she should be trying to impress.
Once we stepped inside, I was taken back by the grand staircase and shiny wood flooring below my feet. The home had cathedral ceilings, warm-colored walls, and a large backyard. I could see the corners of her mouth curling as she watched me tour the house. She suggested that the conjoining bedrooms would be perfect for the boys, and I thought so too. We passed the study, the parlor room, four guestrooms, and the master bedroom.
“This is cute. Way bigger than my house.” Samantha said as she played with the buttons on the stainless-steel appliances.
“You have three houses but choose to live in the small townhouse instead.”
She folded her arms and popped her hip out.
“I have four houses, and I couldn’t jet off to Europe to occupy them because of a certain someone…” She turned and began prying open the cabinets and analyzing the shelving within them.
“I could fit my entire bus in this kitchen.” I squeaked.
“Oh, yea. Is that thing collecting dust?”
I gave her a side-eye. She always hated my bus, and her hatred toward it grew stronger the day I fell off the back of it.
“No, it’s not. It’s actually in the garage at the penthouse. They have a separate garage for owners who have larger vehicles that need storage.”
An annoyed look stretched across her face, and I replied with a smile, which infuriated her even further.
“Thoughts?” Ian said as he laid his satchel on the kitchen island next to me.
“I like it, it has enough rooms, a big backyard, and the school district is the best in Stonebridge.”
“All good points. The other three homes we have not seen yet have a similar look. I can pull them up on the tablet,” he said as he unlocked the device.
The realtor set down a pitcher of juice and some light refreshments on the other side of Ian, and Samantha wasted no time digging in. She’s always been a sucker for fruit punch and chocolate chip cookies. Her eyes glided to mine, and she attempted to do her little happy dance as she stuffed another soft cookie into her mouth. She offered me one, but I refused. I had no problems consuming chocolate cake or ice cream, but chocolate chip cookies made me gag, which was another annoying side effect of my pregnancy.
“Two phones? You must be important?” Samantha said as she pierced her lips around the rim of the clear plastic cup.
“One’s business, and the other is personal, but I’m still important,” Ian said with a wink.
One of his phones began to vibrate in his bag. He pulled it out and excused himself from our presence as he took the call. Samantha continued eating her cookies, and my fingers glided over the screen as I looked at the other perspective homes. A chime echoed through the front pocket of his satchel and continued three more times, and Samantha reached for Ian’s bag.
“No, Samantha,” I whispered as I snatched the bag away.
Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she tugged on to the strap. “What if it’s an emergency? What if someone died?”Her brow rose, with her grip becoming stronger by the second.
My shoulders slumped, and I let out a sigh, but before I could answer her question, she already had her hand deep inside Ian’s satchel. She pulled out the black device, and her face went from amusement to shock.
“Samantha, what’s wrong?” Her lips parted, but no words came out.
I didn’t wait for an answer either. My hands reached over, and I snatched the phone out of her hands. I could feel my lungs cutting off my breathing as I stared at the texts in front of me.
Ian: What does she look like?
Jaimie: She’s tall and looks just like Thomas Kingsley. At least she has a sense of humor.
Jaimie: Remind me to call the lawyers once this shit is over.
My eyes scanned the picture below the text; this time, I couldn’t contain my tears. My chest tightened as my eyes stared at his arm wrapped around another woman’s shoulder. His lips dangled inches from the shell of her ear, and his grin stretched clean across his face. Well, don’t they look fucking great?
