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"I told you I want to try. We need to start somewhere if we want to be ready when she comes. " He smirks, then peers down between us. "When am I going to meet my baby girl?"
"Her due date is July eleventh."
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
Wednesday morning,I get startled awake by a frantic Rhys. My door flies open, and he takes over the entire frame. "Dude, why are you in bed? I've been waiting for an hour." His tone borders on girly hysterical—no offense to any females.
Huh?
I peer at my alarm clock. Oh shit! The red digits tell me it's 11:13 a.m. I was supposed to meet Rhys at the venue at ten.
"I'm sorry. Shit. I didn't go to bed until, uh…two."
"What the hell were you doing?" He throws his arms up as if to say,what's more important than my wedding?
"I was with King." That shuts him up.
King had the early shift at The Grizz yesterday, and after lunch, I dropped her off to change, then drove her to work. We talked about everything and nothing all day. She showed me ultrasound pictures of our baby, and I teared up like a pussy. A week ago, I had no idea I was going to be a father before graduating college. I didn't know if I wanted to be a dad or part of her life—shitty ass selfish move, I know. Den chewing me out was the first step. I was prepared to be there for my daughter—do the right thing. Then, I walked in on Marcus with his arm around King, and it was clear that no matter what happened between us, the thought of another male touching her—now or in the future—was ahell to the fucking no. Not until I knew that there was no future for us. And here we are, giving it a shot.
I haven't kissed her since Monday night. The furthest we went yesterday was holding hands and her sitting in my arm on the couch. The way my pulse thrashed through my body made me feel like a teenager again that was getting his first feel of a girl's tits—and I didn't even get to touch anything. I couldn't help but notice the size of King's boobs, and dear Lord, if I didn't want to slip my hand under her oversized shirt and—
"Dude, you better tell me this is morning wood, and you're not this happy to see me." Rhys's mocked outrage makes me throw my pillow at him.
I blow him a kiss, and his eyes widen, then the biggest grin breaks free. "It's good to have you back!"
I laugh. "Get the fuck out. I'll be ready in ten."
It's good to be back—feel likemeagain.
The day passesin a blur of wedding preparation. I check my phone regularly until Rhys threatens to confiscate it if I don't focus. But I made King promise before leaving yesterday that she'd text me if she or the baby needed anything. I am already whipped to my daughter's every whim, and she hasn't even asked for anything. I am in deep shit.
Rehearsal dinner passes smoothly, but when I call King on my way home, she doesn't answer. Every nerve ending instantly goes into overdrive, and I floor it to her house, all kinds of scenarios running through my head. By the time I throw the 4Runner into park, I'm at the brink of having vertigo. What if Gray took her (again), or something was wrong and she needed medical attention?
I burst into her house without knocking, and Mags jumps off the couch. "Where is she?"
"Excuse me?" She props her hands on her hips.
Her attempt to intimidate me is being drowned by the adrenaline coursing through my veins. "Mags," I growl.
She huffs, exasperated, rolling her eyes. "She's asleep, numb nuts. You kept her up way past the appropriate bedtime for a pregnant woman."
There's a bedtime?
Mags stares at me, dumbfounded, then cackles like a hyena on crack, pointing and circling her index finger at me. "That's priceless."
I flip her the bird and head down the hallway to King's bedroom. Echo is on her doggy bed on the floor and bolts up as soon as she sees me.
"Hey, girl." I squat down to greet her properly. When her wet kisses have covered every visible inch of skin, I try to gently push her off. "Enough," I chuckle.
"Wes?" a sleepy murmur comes from somewhere under a massive amount of blankets.
"Hey, Princess." I keep my voice low, not wanting her to wake up all the way. Being out cold at nine o'clock at night, she obviously needs rest.
Instead of going back to sleep, though, she pushes herself up to a sitting position and swipes her hair out of her face. "How'd goooo?" She covers the yawn with her hand.
I sink down on the mattress, facing her. "Good. Seems the best man is a bigger deal than the groom. All Rhys has to do is show up and look pretty."
She lifts an eyebrow but smiles sleepily. "Don't let him hear that."
