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Who pervs on a pregnant chick?
Me apparently.
"Can I, uh, help you with anything?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
I might be an asshole, but I'm also a gentleman.
Kinda.
Okay, sometimes.
Being supportive does not come standard in my default settings, but she's looking a little frazzled.
McKinley frowns. Her head swivels, taking in the room.
"There's so much we don't have," she whispers. "This is going to be a disaster."
I stagger back a few steps. We are not seeing the same room. There are piles upon piles of baby clothes and diapers.
A shit-ton of other things, too. The massive room is stuffed full of baby crap. Every day more arrives. If she's not careful, she won't have anywhere to put the actual baby.
"What are you missing?" I ask, scratching at my jaw.
I'm not dumb. I'm definitely not about to point out she's got basically anything she could need.
Men view things differently anyway.
Once the baby comes, undoubtedly there will be some things she didn't even think to buy, but all that requires is sending Walker to the store. An hour max and she'll have whatever it is she's missing.
"Bottles," McKinley says, ticking things off on her fingers. "A baby thermometer, nipple pads. The doctor said I might start leaking before the baby is even here." With that, she bursts into tears.
I shove my head out the door, frantically scanning for anyone.
Literally, anyone would be better-suited to handle this situation than I am.
There's fucking no one.
It's a goddamn ghost town all of a sudden. Normally, you can't get away from all the people in this penthouse...
My head falls back, and I stare at the ceiling. Frowning, I swipe a hand over my face and take a few steps toward McKinley, who has dramatically collapsed on the floor.
She's cute.
It's distracting.
She's superiorly overreacting, but she's also growing a human being… So, I'm pretty sure that earns her a free pass.
I know I can be a hard-ass. I didn't wake up one day and just decide to be this way. Fuck no, I'm third-generation military.
My father was not exactly the warm and fuzzy type. That's why I learned to crack jokes. If I could make him laugh, he was somewhat less likely to crack my skull.
I don't think the gentle approach is going to work here.
"McKinley, get up," I say, my tone firm.
God, she's really fucking cute as glares at me. It's hard not to crack a smile.
"I just spilled my guts to you. Told you how I'm afraid I'll fail at being a mother and you're yelling at me?" She frowns, sniffling.
