A Not So Meet Cute

“I’m nervous. Why am I nervous? Should I be nervous?” I twist my hands in front of me as I pace the entryway of Huxley’s house.

He’s sitting on the stairs, a grin spread across his face.

“And I don’t like that you’re finding joy in my pacing.”

He chuckles and stands, then steps in front of me to keep me from wearing a path into his beautiful floors. He stills me with his hands to my shoulders and then lifts my chin. Only to bend down and place a soft kiss to my lips. Not sure I’ll ever get tired of receiving his affection.

Ever.

“You have nothing to worry about.”

“Easy for you to say. My mom already loves you, but I’ve never really spoken to your brothers before. Besides a few pleasantries, they’re strangers to me. And they must know I’m some kind of lunatic for agreeing to be your fake fiancée.” I grip my forehead. “God, what they must think of me.” Eyes wide, I ask, “Do they think I’m a gold digger? Because I’m not. I’ll break up with you right now to prove them wrong.”

“They don’t think you’re a gold digger. If they’re judging anybody, they’re judging me. Trust me, I’ve taken enough shit from them over the past week about us getting together. They’re going to be ecstatic to get to know you better.”

“They’ve given you shit?” I ask.

“They said from the very beginning that I liked you but I was in denial. So, basically, them just rubbing it in my face.” He shrugs his shoulders as if it’s nothing.

“And they know my mom thinks we’re engaged?”

He nods. “They’re well aware. Everyone is going to act as though we’re engaged.”

I blow out a deep breath and step into his embrace.

His hand rubs up and down my back. “It’s going to be okay, Lottie.”

“Why did we think it would be a good idea to have our families over for a barbecue? This seems like a recipe for disaster.”

“I thought it was because you wanted to tell everyone how amazing my cock is.”

My head shoots up and I catch the blatant humor in his expression. “What is wrong with you?”

He chuckles. “Trying to lighten the mood, babe. It’s really going to be okay.”

“And what if your brothers don’t like me?”

“They will, trust me. Anyone who can give me as much shit as you do and bring me to my knees, they’re going to love. I wouldn’t be surprised if they showed up wearing Team Lottie T-shirts. Trust me, they’re fans.”

“Team Lottie. I like the sound of that.” I press a kiss to his jaw. “And you still don’t have any regrets?”

He shakes his head. “None.”

It’s been a little over a week since the concert, since we confessed our feelings, since Huxley Cane took me by storm. When we got back home, he brought me back to his bedroom and fucked me until we passed out. The next day, he called in sick—I told Kelsey I’d be working from Huxley’s place—and we spent the entire day getting to know each other all over again. He told me about how when he was an Eagle Scout, he used to boast about it to get girls to notice him. Sadly, none of them cared, which made me laugh so hard I snorted. And I told him about the time I caught my mom making out with Jeff in the pantry when they first started dating, and how Mom said she lost her Tic Tac in his mouth. She was trying to find it. Which then inspired Huxley to proceed to push me on my back and say he lost a Tic Tac as well . . .

I’ll be honest, I’ve never had this much sex in my life. I’ve never been contorted the way Huxley contorts me. And I never knew there were so many surfaces you can have sex on.

Bathroom counter.

Stairway landing.

Lounge chairs.

Patio table.

Fence.

Hood of a car . . .

Basically, if I can sit or lean on it, Huxley can fuck me on it, and he has.

And it’s been amazing. So amazing that I admitted to Kelsey yesterday that I’m embarrassingly addicted to his cock. So bad that anytime I see him, I can practically feel him already between my legs. Yup, I’ve lost it completely.

And yet . . . it’s not just that. In fact, it’s making me see how superficial my previous boyfriends were. Especially Ken. God, I dated an idiot. I knew Huxley had a deeper soul than it seemed when I first met him. And I’ve gotten to know him. Yes, he has pretentious business goals and aspirations, but he’s also generous with his time. He looks for opportunities to grow his employees by offering his expertise when that benefits them. He encourages growth in employee skills. He shared some of his drive with me, and it got me even more excited about opportunities for Kelsey’s company. And for what I’m actually capable of. He complimented me for my business acumen, and that felt extraordinary. He is extraordinary.

Grabbing me by the hips, Huxley asks, “Do you have any regrets?”

“Are you serious?” I ask. “The only regret I have is not stripping down for you on day one.”

He laughs. “Pretty sure you hated me too much to strip down.”

“Angry sex is better than no sex.” I reach up to kiss him just as the doorbell rings. I stiffen in his arms and whisper, “Oh God, they’re here.”

“They’re going to love you. I promise.” He kisses me one last time, then takes my hand in his and brings me to the front door. When he opens it, he reveals Breaker and JP, both holding Tupperware and flowers in their hands.

“There she is,” Breaker says, pushing through the door. “The girl who turned our brother into a walking pile of lusty mush.”

“Jesus,” Huxley mutters.

“These are for you.” Breaker hands me flowers and then pulls me into a hug.

JP follows behind him, handing me flowers as well. “You’re a goddess,” he says, giving me a hug as well. “We want you to tell us everything.”

Huxley inserts himself between his brothers and separates us. “That won’t be necessary. You know enough.”

“You can’t protect her all night. We will get her alone, and we’ll ask her embarrassing questions. We need as much ammo as we can get,” JP says.

There’s a knock at the door.

With a warning glare, Huxley says, “Be on your best behavior.”

His brothers roll their eyes—which I think is hilarious—and they walk toward the kitchen as Huxley answers the door. “Maura, Jeff, Kelsey, welcome.”

Huxley swings the door all the way open, revealing my family on the other side. Mom made homemade churros and Jeff brought a fruit salad I know he spent at least an hour making. He takes his fruit salads seriously. It shows. They’re positively beautiful and really freaking delicious.

“Thank you so much for having us. I’ve been itching to see where our Lottie has been staying,” Mom says as she steps in and gives Huxley a hug. Jeff offers him a handshake and Kelsey gives him a fist bump, which I think is kind of funny. We’ve had two meetings with Cane Enterprises, and even though Huxley is extremely professional, Breaker and JP have made the business relationship more easygoing. I can see that in the easy manner Kelsey has around Huxley now.

I give them a quick hello before we all head back to the kitchen. Reign prepared a spread of food, which he arranged on the kitchen island while Huxley and I were busy doing . . . other things.

The sliding glass doors to the backyard are open, and there’s music playing softly in the background.

“Wow,” Mom says in awe. “Your place is spectacular.”

“Thank you,” Huxley says while taking the food Mom and Jeff brought. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

Over the past week, I’ve come to know the real Huxley. The Huxley I thought I met when we ran into each other on the sidewalk. Easygoing, fun. The once stiff and unapproachable man I knew is no longer in sight. Actually, the only thing stiff about him is his cock.

After we’re all settled, pleasantries and introductions behind us, we head out to the patio with our food and take a seat at the large patio table on which Huxley and I have had sex three times. But no one needs to know that.

Huxley leans into my ear and whispers, “Your mom is sitting in the exact same spot where you came so hard, you squirted.”

“Can you not?” I whisper back, feeling my face go red.

He chuckles and kisses my cheek.

“What are you whispering about over there?” Kelsey, who’s sitting across from me, asks. The glint in her eye tells me she knows exactly what we’re talking about, because I told her about our patio table escapades.

“Nothing,” I say, glaring at her.

“So, Jeff, are you going to tell them the news?” Mom asks, thankfully changing the subject.

“What news?” I ask, glancing down the table at Jeff, who’s partaking in some of his fruit salad and Reign’s homemade macaroni casserole.

The table grows quiet as Jeff sets down his fork and lifts his head. “I received a letter in the mail yesterday. Apparently, someone contacted the beautification committee and suggested they take a look at our house. They came by last week while visiting the other properties and congratulated me on a well-preserved yard with exquisite definition and color selection in our planters.” Mom squeezes Jeff’s arm.

“Seriously?” I ask, in complete shock.

Jeff nods, his smile so large that it’s contagious. “Unfortunately, the house isn’t within the boundaries of the contest, but they did give me an honorary award and said they’d be working with the city on expanding the boundary line so I can possibly be included in the future.”

“Holy shit,” I say. “That’s amazing, Jeff. Oh my God, you’ve worked so hard.”

He nods again and his eyes well up. He looks at Huxley and says, “Thank you, Huxley. I’m not sure you know how much this means to me.”

Huxley?

I turn around to look at him, and he offers Jeff a simple nod. “I just made a phone call. You did all of the work.”

“Wait, you called the beautification committee?”

“Nothing to make a big deal about,” he says under his breath. “Congrats, Jeff. It’s a well-deserved honor.”

In the most sincere voice, Jeff says, “It means the world to me to be recognized, Huxley. Thank you.”

And then the table falls silent as my mind swirls with this new information.

Jeff heard from them yesterday.

But they did their rounds a week to two weeks ago.

Which means . . . Huxley must have called them before we were together, when we were at each other’s necks with anger and frustration.

And he did that. He called.

He put that smile on Jeff’s face.

“Huxley,” I whisper.

He picks up my hand, places a kiss across my knuckles, and says, “We’ll talk about it later.”

“PLEASE TELL us you have some embarrassing stories,” JP says as he takes a seat across from me on a lounger. Breaker joins him.

I glance over at the patio, where Huxley is in deep conversation with Jeff and my mom. Kelsey left a while ago because she claimed she had another engagement, but I saw right through her. She was avoiding JP and his flirtation. Frankly, I was enjoying the show, but Kelsey could only take so much.

Hunkering down with the boys, I say, “I’m not sure the man is capable of doing anything embarrassing.”

“Obviously he’s been able to hold it together so far in front of you. Trust me when I say, the man can embarrass himself.”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you delight me with a story?”

Breaker and JP exchange glances. “Did he mention the time he did a presentation at NYU about entrepreneurship, and the entire time, his fly was undone?”

“What?” I laugh out loud. “No, he didn’t.”

Breaker nods. “He did. At the end of his presentation, one of the dickhead college kids asked him if he was hot.”

“Oh God.” I clamp my hand over my mouth, giggling.

“Of course, Huxley was confused and answered no and asked why. Then the kid said because he didn’t know why else his fly would be undone unless it was for a cross-breeze.”

I burst out in laughter and draw Huxley’s attention away from his conversation. He eyes his brothers suspiciously, and there’s no doubt he knows what his brothers are doing.

“What did he do?” I ask.

Breaker rubs his hand over his jaw, something I’ve noticed Huxley does as well. “He of course was humiliated. Zipped up his pants, cleared his throat, and then thanked everyone for their time before bolting. Bro was an epic dick for days after, blamed us for sending him out there unzipped.”

“What?” I ask.

JP presses his hand to his chest. “Exactly. Explain to us how that’s our fault. Are we supposed to hover over him like a helicopter mom?” JP shakes his head. “No, not our job. Be an adult man and zip up your pants.”

“Now, before we go into any meeting, we always whisper to Huxley to check his fly.”

“Stop. Do you really?” I chuckle.

Breaker nods. “Yeah, he hates us so much for it, but to hell if we’re going to be blamed again for his mistake.”

“You’re protecting yourself,” I say.

“Exactly,” Breaker says to JP. “She gets it.”

“She gets what?” Huxley asks, joining us, my mom and Jeff at his side.

“Nothing,” JP says. “This is between us. Nothing you need to concern yourself about.”

“If you’re talking to my girl, I’m concerned,” Huxley responds, which of course makes me all weak in the knees because of the possessive tone he uses.

“Ooo, I like this side of him,” JP says. He stands and slaps his brother on the shoulder. “As much as I love talking to your fiancée about your embarrassing moments, I need to head out.”

“Me too,” Breaker says.

“We’re headed out as well,” Jeff says. “We came over to say bye.”

I stand and give Jeff and my mom a hug, making sure to squeeze them extra tight. It was good seeing them again. I’ve been so wrapped up in my hectic life that I’ve missed spending time with them. Hopefully things are slowing down now, though, so we can plan more things like this.

Together, as a group, we head to the front door, where we all exchange hugs, thank-yous and goodbyes. Once the door is shut, Huxley turns toward me and asks, “What did they say to you?”

I chuckle and head into the kitchen to start cleaning up. “Afraid they said something that would deter me away from you?”

“Yes.”

“It’s going to take a lot more than a story about your fly being down to tear me away.”

He groans and leans against the counter. “They didn’t.”

I pin him with a look. “Was it for the cross-breeze?”

The look in his eyes is absolutely murderous, and it just makes me laugh even more.

“You’re no longer allowed to talk to them.”

“Such a shame,” I say. “We got along very well.” Since we already took care of the food earlier, I just stick the dishes in the dishwasher and then turn toward Huxley. “I’d love to talk to them more. They seem really grounded.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you would.” When I close the dishwasher, he comes up to me and tugs on my hand, pulling me in close. “Did you have fun today?”

“I did.” I smooth my hand up his chest. “But I do have to ask you something.”

“What’s that?”

“That phone call you made—”

“It’s not a big deal, Lottie.” He starts to move away, but I stop him.

“It’s a big deal to me. I’m not sure you realize this, but you made Jeff’s year. He works so hard on our front yard, and to be recognized like that, it means everything to him.” I force Huxley to look at me. “When did you make the phone call?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because it does. When did you make it?”

He lets out a deep sigh. “I don’t know, like four weeks ago.”

“Four weeks ago?” I ask, astonished. “As in, right after we met?”

He pulls on his neck. “Yeah, probably around then. But like I said, it doesn’t matter.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I say, reaching up to him and gripping his cheek. “Huxley, you did this out of the kindness of your heart, because you knew it meant a lot to someone else. Not many people would stop to do something like that.”

“We don’t have to make a big deal out of this.”

I pause and observe him. The fidgetiness of his body. The inability to look me in the eyes. “You don’t accept compliments very well, do you?”

“I don’t think it’s necessary to make a big deal out of something that, in the grand scheme of things, was small on my end.”

“But it wasn’t small,” I counter. “It wasn’t small at all. You made Jeff, a man so special to me, happy. You truly made his year, Huxley. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for that.”

He grips my hips and leans forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

He takes my hand and guides me up the stairs to his bedroom. The entire way, I keep thinking about how things have changed, and so quickly. We went from being at each other’s throats with insults to not wanting to let each other go. Kelsey was right—there really is a fine line between love and hate, and we crossed over it.

“I DON’T FEEL comfortable with this,” I say as we wait for Dave and Ellie to show up. “We need to tell them.”

Huxley looks just as uncomfortable as I feel. “I know, but I don’t know how to fucking do it. I still haven’t secured the deal, because he keeps cancelling on me.”

We’re waiting outside a tall brick building for a newborn class. Dave asked if we wanted to join them, and of course, Huxley—still on his quest to secure Dave’s properties—said yes. But now that we’re here, it doesn’t feel right at all, especially since we’re actually together now.

“What do you think he’d do if he actually knew the pregnancy thing wasn’t true?”

“I don’t know,” Huxley says, looking out toward the street. “I’m pretty sure he’d never do business with me, because I lied. And my worst fear would be the news getting out to everyone around us, all the people I work with. It could be absolutely disastrous.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine people wanting to do business with you after you’ve claimed a fake fiancée and child all in one day.”

“Doesn’t bode well for me.”

I nudge him with my shoulder. “I know I’ve said it before, but it was a pretty idiotic move.”

He chuckles, pulls me closer against his chest, and kisses me on the top of the head. “Yes, you’ve made that statement before.”

“Hey, you guys, over here,” we hear Dave say from behind us. Together, we turn around to find Dave and Ellie wearing jeans and matching white button-up tops, walking toward us with their arms wrapped around each other’s waists. They are something else.

Huxley lifts his hand in a wave and then quietly says to me, “I’ll figure out a way to make this better, I promise. Let’s just get through today.”

“Okay.” I give him a squeeze, and then we join Dave and Ellie.

“Oh, wow, you look amazing,” Ellie says, pulling me into a hug. “You’re positively glowing in this dress.” I chose to wear a flowy dress just in case I’m supposed to be showing, which I’m not. “Isn’t she glowing, Dave?”

“She is,” Dave says with a sly smile. “She looks like a woman in love.” I nearly choke on my own saliva.

I cough a few times and Huxley rubs my back. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.” I cough again. “Just swallowed wrong for a second.” I gather myself and smile at everyone. “Uh, so, are we going in?” I thumb toward the door awkwardly.

“Yes, I’m so excited. I heard the dolls are so lifelike in this class that they actually pee on you. Doesn’t that sound thrilling?”

Keeping my composure, I answer, “Oh yes. Very excited for that surprise.” About as excited as I was for the fake breastmilk to fly across my face.

Dave and Ellie walk in before us, and Huxley hangs back for a second, tugging on my hand. “Everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, everything is fine. Why?” I ask, pasting on a smile.

“Because you’re acting weird.”

“Am I?” I ask in a high-pitched tone. “I feel as though I’m normal.”

He studies me for a few beats before reaching for the door and opening it for me. Hand on my lower back, he guides me in to where Dave and Ellie are waiting for us. Ellie holds up a baby doll and says, “We got our baby. His name is Enoch. Isn’t he dreamy?”

Dreamy?

It’s a doll.

I really want to know what species Ellie is because there’s no way she’s human. Not even close to it. She’s an odd one.

“What a lovely baby,” I say. “Very . . . plasticky.”

Huxley tugs on my arm toward the registration desk. He lowers his mouth to my ear and in an amused tone, he asks, “Plasticky?”

I chuckle softly. “I don’t know how to compliment a fake baby.”

“Hello, who is the reservation under?” the receptionist asks.

“Mr. and Mrs. Cane,” Huxley says, shocking me.

“Ah, I have you right here. Let me go grab your baby and supplies.”

When she takes off, I turn to Huxley with an arched brow. “Mr. and Mrs. Cane?”

He smirks. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Uh . . . what?” I ask, about to choke on my saliva again.

He laughs and tugs me closer to him to place a kiss on the top of my head. “Your fear of being attached to me is making me feel like a god today.”

The receptionist comes back out and hands us a girl doll. “Her name is Judith. She’s a cranky one.”

Judith?

Are we taking care of a seventy-year-old?

I take the baby and glance down at it . . .

“Good Jesus,” I whisper. “She’s missing an eye.”

The receptionist nods. “Not all babies are perfect.”

“But this baby doesn’t look as though it was born like this, it looks as though it was mauled by a pack of coyotes.”

“More like a brothel of chihuahuas,” the receptionist says. “Judith has been through a lot, but I know you two will take great care of her.” The receptionist motions toward the room. “Hurry on in, the class will be starting soon.”

I tuck Judith in my arm and turn toward Ellie and Dave, who are cuddling Enoch as if he’s their own. Sorry, Judith, we probably won’t be having the same bond.

“She’s what nightmares are made of,” Huxley whispers in my ear.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if somehow she finds a way to hitch it back home with us and stare at us in the middle of the night while we’re sleeping.”

With his hand on my lower back, Huxley says, “If I look over my shoulder as I’m pounding into you and see her, I’m telling you right now, I’m going to leave you.”

I whisper back, “I don’t blame you.”

“Are you ready?” Dave asks, looking up from cooing at Enoch.

“We are,” I say, even though I have no idea what to expect or what Huxley got us into.

As a group, we walk into the room, which is filled with couples holding babies. At least ten other couples all hover over their baby stations. The only tables left are one in the back and one in the front.

“If you don’t get that back table, I’ll never suck your cock again,” I whisper to Huxley, who chuckles and moves forward in front of Dave.

Hands out, he says, “Ah, damn, looks as if we can’t sit next to each other. We’ll take this back table.”

“Oh, what a shame,” Ellie says, scanning the tables. “Well, might be for the best, I think our little Enoch is crushing on your one-eyed Judith.” Ellie winks and then takes off toward the front with Dave.

I glance up at Huxley and ask, “Do you think that was sarcastic? Do you think she was hating on Judith?”

“Does it matter? I thought you were terrified of Judith.”

“I am,” I say as we make our way to the back table. “But she’s ours to be terrified of, no one else’s.”

“I think you’re taking this baby thing too seriously.”

“Are you saying you’re not actually here to learn the ins and outs of taking care of an infant?” I ask him.

“I’m just hoping there’s some kind of snack break.” He glances around the room. “But I don’t see a snack table, so I’m guessing I’m out of luck.”

“Why do I like you?”

Leaning in toward me and talking closely to my ear, he says, “Because you can’t get enough of my cock.”

“If only that were the case,” I reply as the instructor walks into the room. Wait . . . “Is that Heaven?”

“Who’s Heaven?” Huxley asks.

“Uh, the lady who made me dry-hump you in front of a bunch of strangers.”

“Oh Jesus,” Huxley says, trying to get a better look at the instructor. “Fuck, I think it’s her. Thank God we’re in the back.”

“Welcome,” Heaven says, her voice booming through the speakers. “I’m so glad everyone could join us on this wonderful journey of getting to know your newborn. I see some familiar faces, and I’m sure I’ll see more as I make my way around the classroom to work with each of you individually.”

“Oh, great,” I mutter. “I’m sure she’s going to be focusing on us again.” I glance up at Huxley. “You owe me, Hanley.”

“I’m starting to realize that.”

“Now, please go ahead and turn on your babies. The switch is on their back. They’ll wake up, and we’ll get started.”

I flip Judith over and find her on switch. I move it to the right, turn her back over, and then with one eye, she blinks at me.

Blinks again.

And then . . . wails.

“Dear Christ,” I say, tossing her on the table, which only makes her wail even louder.

“What are you doing?” Huxley asks. “You’re drawing attention to us.”

“Not on purpose.”

“Why is she so loud?” he asks, picking her up by the leg.

“Because she has one eye and isn’t happy about life,” I answer while looking around. “I don’t think you should hold her like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like she’s a snake you found on the trail.” I nudge him. “She’s not going to bite. Coddle her.”

“Easy for you to say, she’s not staring at you with her one eye.” She wails even louder and Huxley grimaces. “Good fuck, what has possessed this thing?”

“It doesn’t like being held upside down like that,” I say.

“It doesn’t know. It’s not alive.”

“Says the man who’s scared of the blinking doll. No, I think it has a sensor. Hold it close to you.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t call Judith it, maybe that’s hurting her feelings.”

“Then hold Judith close to you,” I say as she screams even louder.

“Like to my chest?”

“Yes,” I say in exasperation. “Like an actual baby, Huxley.” Judith wails again, and I catch sight of Heaven walking toward us. “Oh shit, Heaven is coming in this direction. Quick, coddle her. Coddle her, damn it.”

“Ugh, okay.” Huxley brings Judith to his chest and holds her, but that doesn’t stop her wailing. “She’s still acting like a wretched crotch.”

“Then pat her.”

“Pat her?” he asks.

“Yes, you know. A light tap to the back. Soothe her, Huxley.”

Awkwardly, he pats Judith, which only makes her scream more. “It’s possessed. It’s because she’s missing an eye, there’s no other explanation.” He hands me the doll, which I hold out in front of me. The plastic doll wails, blinks, and wails some more.

“I don’t like this thing.”

“You’re not coddling it,” Huxley says as Heaven draws closer.

“Because I’m afraid Judith is going to suck my soul right from my body if I bring her in closer.”

“Here, I’ll pat her while you hold her.” Huxley reaches out and pats Judith on the back a few times.

After the fourth pat, Judith stops crying.

“Oh my God, we did it.”

“Did we?” Huxley asks, unsure. “Would she just stop like that?”

“I think so. I think we soothed—”

Before I can finish my sentence, I’m sprayed in the face with some sort of milky liquid.

“Oh fuck,” Huxley says, jumping back to avoid whatever hellish liquid the doll is spewing.

“Get it off me, get it off me,” I yell as I run in place, holding Judith as far away from me as possible. “Oh my God, why does it smell?”

“I have a wash—” Huxley makes a gagging sound. “Jesus fuck, it smells so bad. What is that?”

“I don’t know, just get it off my face.”

“Everything okay over here?” Heaven’s voice cuts through the chaos.

I pause my theatrics and try not to vomit from the putrid smell on my face. “Judith is experiencing an exorcism,” I say.

“I can see that. It seems as though she’s not feeling well. Is that how you’d hold a baby who’s not feeling well?”

“This is how I’d hold a baby that just sprayed sour milk all over my face. She’s lucky she’s not rolling on the ground by herself.”

Huxley wipes my face with a washcloth, and I allow myself to take a deep breath once most of the liquid is gone.

“Why does it smell?” I ask Heaven, who’s standing in front of us with a judgey look on her face.

“We try to make the experience as authentic as possible, which is why I’d ask that you treat the baby like a real one.”

“I am. I was just caught off guard, I wasn’t expecting for—”

Judith gurgles.

Judith makes an odd sound.

And then, to my horror, Judith starts leaking something brown.

Without even thinking, I screech, drop Judith on the table, and step away as a fresh round of putrid stench comes from Judith’s plastic bottom.

And of course, because she’s Satan’s baby, she wails so loud that everyone is looking at us now, even Dave and Ellie, who are coddling Enoch.

This is not going well.

“I’M SORRY,” I whisper as we sit outside of the building, cleaned up, thankfully all remnants of Judith wiped away.

“Don’t be, that doll was possessed.”

“Yeah, but I got us kicked out of the class.”

After Judith had another “upset belly,” as Heaven liked to call it, I swore at the doll, which caused our eviction from the classroom.

I’m sorry, but if that was a real child, I probably would’ve reacted the same exact way, except the whole dropping the baby thing. But I doubt there’s one parent out there who would’ve been able to keep their cool as they were being blasted by their baby from every hole. Please show me one parent who would’ve been able to handle that situation with dignity and grace.

None.

“Kicking us out of class was aggressive,” Huxley says. “Just because of your litany of swear words? Frankly, I thought it was a colorful combination.”

I lean against him and press a kiss to his cheek. “I appreciate you appreciating my ability to combine swear words.”

The door to the building opens and Dave and Ellie step out, holding hands. When they spot us, they smile with apologetic looks.

“We weren’t sure if you two left or not,” Ellie says. “That was a bit of a rough situation in there.”

Huxley helps me stand and places his arm over my shoulder, keeping me close to him. “I’m not sure we were expecting things to be so volatile,” Huxley says with humor in his voice.

Dave chuckles. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a string of unfortunate events before.” He smirks. “And congrats on the swear words. Quite impressive, Lottie.”

I feel my face heat up with embarrassment. I was so thrown off by Judith that I completely forgot about all decorum and the purpose of being in the damn class to begin with—to impress Dave. I really hope I didn’t just screw things up for Huxley. This deal that seems to have been dragged on forever.

“Sorry about that.” I wince. “I think I was so overcome by the smell that I lost all ability to act like a normal human.”

“No need to apologize,” Dave says. “I’m not sure I would’ve been able to hold it together if the same thing happened to me.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to,” Ellie says, resting her hand on her belly. “I’m starving. Would you guys care to join us for some dinner?”

“That would be great,” I answer for the both of us before Huxley can come up with an excuse. I think I owe it to him to give this outing one more shot.

“Wonderful,” Ellie says. “Right around the block, there’s a quaint sandwich shop I’m obsessed with. Does that sound good?”

I nod. “Lead the way.”

Dave and Ellie take off, but Huxley holds me back a few steps. Whispering into my ear, he says, “You don’t have to do this. I know you probably want to get home.” And shower. Yes, God, yes. But . . .

“I owe it to you,” I answer.

His lips run over my ear, sending chills down my arm. “You owe me nothing. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

I link my fingers with his, twining them together. “I promise, I’m okay. Let’s see if we can make a dent in this deal.” I wink and let him draw me in closer as we trail behind Ellie and Dave. He leans away suddenly and clears his throat.

“Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, um . . . I don’t think you got all the baby vomit out of your hair.”

Oh fuck.

“DON’T you just love a meaty sandwich?” Ellie asks, taking a ravenous bite of her Philly cheesesteak sandwich. Cheese drips off her chin as she smiles and chews.

Dear God.

“I love all the meat in my mouth,” I answer, causing Huxley to snort next to me. Huh, I guess that didn’t sound quite right.

“So sad that you opted for the soup. You could’ve really chowed down on this cheesesteak.”

I got the chicken noodle soup because, frankly, I had no idea what a pregnant lady could eat, and since Ellie and Dave insisted on us ordering first, I went with something neutral. Trust me, that cheesesteak looks phenomenal.

“Not sad at all,” I answer, scooping up a spoonful of the boring broth. “Love me a good soup.” I shovel the spoon into my mouth and pretend to enjoy the lackluster meal.

“Is that so?” Dave asks. “Are you a big souper?”

“She’s obsessed with soup,” Huxley steps in to say. He’s been done with his sandwich for a bit now, having opted for something small with a side salad. His arm is draped over my chair and he’s been casually twirling my hair with his finger. “Remember that barley soup you made for us that one night?”

Uhhh . . . no.

And frankly, soup is ehhh. I’m not much of a heated-liquid person. I prefer a hearty sandwich, so where is he going with this?

“Oh, yeah, the barley soup,” I answer.

“You used a whole jar of dried barley.” Huxley laughs and turns to Dave and Ellie. “I tried to be the doting fiancé and eat it, but it wasn’t swallowable.”

“Oh, I’ve had my fair share of unswallowable things,” Ellie says, looking at Dave with a certain glint in her eye. Good . . . God!

Dave raises his hand apologetically. “Not the best cook . . . in any aspect.”

Is it just me or are these two throwing down sexual innuendos?

If they are . . . gross!

“And then there was the beef and potato stew you made,” Huxley continues, being Mr. Chatty today. “Now, that was good.”

Since we’re throwing out sexual innuendos . . .

“Because I’m great at handling meat.”

Huxley’s eyes fix on mine. “You’re very good at it.”

We stare at each other, smiles playing on our lips. Is he thinking about last night? Because I am. I’m thinking about how I spent a good ten minutes handling his meat while he writhed beneath me, begging for release.

“Oh, Dave, do you see that?” Ellie asks.

Huxley and I both snap out of our ogling and turn toward the couple opposite us.

“Yep.” Dave has a huge smile on his face. “I think that’s our cue, sweetheart. We need to leave these two alone.”

Ellie nods. “Those pregnancy hormones are kicking in, and they’re about to tear each other’s clothes off.”

I mean, I wouldn’t mind seeing Huxley’s well-built chest right now. At the sandwich shop, not so much, but you know, when we get back home.

“You don’t have to leave,” Huxley says, clearing his throat, but his grip on me grows tighter, more possessive.

Dave laughs. “I think we do.” He offers his hand to Huxley and asks, “Next week, think we can discuss this acquisition?”

Huxley straightens and takes Dave’s hand, giving it a good shake. “Yes, I’ll have Karla call you to see when we’re both available.”

“Perfect.” Dave lifts my hand and places a kiss on the back of it. “Lottie, always a pleasure getting to see you. Good luck . . . handling your meat.”

My cheeks flame. “Th-thank you,” I say awkwardly.

Ellie gives us a quick goodbye, and once they’re out of the restaurant, Huxley turns toward me, a huge smile on his face. “Babe, did you hear that?”

I love it when he calls me babe. It means he’s relaxed, in a good mood, and the stick he likes to wear up his ass most of the time has been temporarily removed.

“That he wants to meet up with you?” I ask.

He nods, that lopsided grin so damn endearing that I find myself drawing closer to him.

“I think he’s ready to make a decision. Fuck, could you imagine if this is all over next week?”

My smile fades as realization hits me square in the chest. What if this is all over next week? I never really gave much thought to what would happen after Huxley secured the deal. I know we’re sort of dating, but do I leave his house? I’m making some money now that Kelsey and I were paid an advance by Cane Enterprises for our work. Does that mean I could afford my own place now?

“That, uh, that would be great,” I answer with a smile, but my mind is wandering. My head is swarming with what if it really is all over?

No longer hungry, I pack up my soup and let Huxley know I’m ready to leave. He texts his driver, who meets us outside. Together, we head out of the restaurant and straight to the waiting car, where we take a seat in the back. I buckle up and look out the window, willing my emotions to stay as calm as possible.

The unknown is scary.

Being unprepared is even scarier.

I need to have a plan for when Huxley does secure the deal.

I have a job—thankfully.

I still have my old car and, to my knowledge, it still works, so I have a way to get around.

School loans are paid off—that’s still a miracle.

Huxley has already said he’ll go to the reunion with me, so I don’t have to worry about that. Sticking it to Angela will still be a possibility.

But a place to live . . .

That’s the one thing I don’t have under control.

Needing to calm down the worry, I pull my phone out of my purse and go to Zillow, because where else should I look for an apartment? And I do a search for places in West Hollywood. I won’t be able to afford anything near Huxley, but near Kelsey would be good.

A studio, that’s all I need.

Not a basement apartment, though, that’s just asking to be murdered.

God, rent is so high. That’s okay, I don’t have much in the way of bills. Spend more on rent, save by forgoing luxuries.

“What are you doing?” Huxley asks, the angry tone of his voice catching me off guard.

I glance up at him and catch the confusion in his face. “Uh . . .” Keeping my voice down, I whisper, “Looking for a place.”

“Why the hell would you be doing that?”

I turn toward him now and say, “Well, if you secure the deal, there’s no need for me anymore.”

His brows narrow. “Are you saying you’re going to leave once I secure the deal?”

“Isn’t that—isn’t that what you want?” I ask, completely confused.

“What I want is you. So why the hell would I want you to leave?”

“Uh . . . I don’t know,” I answer. “I mean, I assumed we’d still date, right? Is that a bad assumption?”

“That’s a correct assumption. But what I don’t understand is why you’re trying to leave.”

“Because I didn’t think you’d still want me around,” I whisper to him, not wanting the driver to hear us, even though there’s a privacy shield.

Huxley grips my chin and holds me in place as he says, “You’re not going anywhere. You hear me? What we have goes beyond the contract. To me, the contract doesn’t exist anymore. What’s between us now is real. Is it not real to you?”

“No, it is,” I say quickly. “I just didn’t want to, you know, impose.”

He chuckles and leans in, placing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to my lips. When he pulls away, he quietly says, “Lottie, trust me when I say you’re not imposing. I want you in my house, in my room, in my bed. I want you on my couch, holding my hand while watching a show you’ve forced me to reluctantly binge. I want you in my pool, skinny-dipping like you enjoy so much. I want you on my roof, feeling the rain bounce off you during a storm. I want you at my dining room table, eating dinner next to me, giving me a hard time for whatever reason you come up with that day.” He lifts my knuckles to his lips and places a soft kiss to them. “I want you, okay?”

The smile that crosses my lips stretches from ear to ear. “Okay. So, no apartment searching?”

“No, Jesus.” He chuckles while shaking his head. “No more giving me a heart attack.”

I press my palm to his cheek. “Aw, you act as if you’re attached.”

“I am. I’m very much attached to you, Lottie. I don’t know how you did it, but I’m addicted. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Good to know.” I nod casually. “Very good to know.”

I glance at him, holding back my smile.

He smirks.

I attempt to play it cool.

He calls my bluff and reaches out to tickle me, causing me to laugh, right before he captures my mouth, placing a muffling kiss across my lips. I melt into his embrace and enjoy him laying his claim.

He’s not the only one who’s addicted, because I need this man just as much as he needs me. I need his teasing, his annoying habits, and his ability to rile me up. I need his caring heart, his blessed soul, and his ability to make me feel safe and protected within the comfort of his arms.

My feelings changed for him so quickly, like the snap of a finger, which makes me wonder, did I always feel like this with him? Were my true feelings just masked with indifference?

From how much I’ve fallen for this man, my answer is probably going to be a yes.

Yes, I do believe I’ve always had feelings for him. I’ve always felt drawn to him. A connection that’s unmistakable. But now I’ve lifted the veil, and I’m able to acknowledge the truth.

I not only like Huxley Cane, but I’m falling in love with him.