Chapter Fifteen
Daisy-Mae
Wrist-deep in flour, I reshape my last ball of sourdough to create a tight skin and set it into a dusted banneton basket before covering it with a kitchen towel.
I’m just about to pop it into my refrigerator when my roller door opens and a crash comes from my garage.
I grab a kitchen towel to wipe my hands and run out.
My husband is in an absolute rage, red faced and manic, throwing boxes around that don’t belong to him.
“What are you doing here?”
He pauses and briefly looks me over, cataloging how much my belly has grown. Then he looks away, as if disgusted. “My name’s on the deed, isn’t it?”
“You don’t live here anymore, Eddie. You haven’t lived here since you knocked me up and left to screw your secretary.”
I dare a glance at the car parked in the drive, and instantly wish I hadn’t.
The woman he left me for is sitting in the passenger seat, a permanent scowl on her pretty, young face.
God. I forgot how perfectly adolescent she looks.
My ex isn’t just an asshole; he’s a total creep. Why did I never see this before?
“I own this house too. Why haven’t you signed the damn papers?”
“When was the last time you paid the mortgage? When was the last time you paid the rates, a bill, or for any of the repairs you’ve been neglecting for years?”
“Why would I when you’ve got those rich fucking Winchesters to foot the bill for you?
” Eddie sneers, stepping closer. I don’t step back.
I want him to know I’m not intimidated by him.
He gets up in my face and lowers his voice to a menacing growl, “You think I don’t know you’ve been fucking West?
Or that he’s been getting handy with repairs? I have spies everywhere.”
“He’s been fixing things you won’t fix, because he’s a friend, and one hundred times the man you’ll ever be.”
“I shouldda known he was the one you’d sink your claws into the second my back was turned. You always did have a thing for him in high school.”
I narrow my eyes and glower at him. “Maybe because I knew he was a decent man who would never leave me for a fucking teenager. Just how old is your secretary, Eddie? Are her parents expecting her home in time for curfew?”
His hand comes out faster than I can anticipate and he grabs my shoulder, shoving me back into a stack of boxes. I cry out and lose my balance, falling to the ground, but an old rolled up Persian rug softens the blow.
“Hey!” West shouts and grabs Eddie by the collar. He hauls him outside onto the lawn, where he throws Eddie to the ground and straddles my husband. His fist connects with Eddie’s cheekbone, splitting the reddened flesh like rotted fruit.
I pull myself up faster than I would have thought possible and run toward them, ignoring the pain in my hips and back. “West. Leave him. He’s not worth it.”
Eddie smiles up at west through bloody lips, his teeth macabre and crimson. “You enjoying playing house with my wife and baby, Winchester?”
“Oh, I’m not fucking playing. Way I see it, she was always too good for you, and her kid is too.
Both of them are better off with me,” West says, hovering over him.
He lands a condescending slap to Eddie’s busted cheek.
My husband hisses and attempts to lash out at West, but he delivers a swift kick to his ribs and Eddie gasps on my lawn like a fish out of water momentarily stunned by the pain.
West stalks over to the car and yanks the keys from the ignition. “Is this the kind of trash you wanna be saddled to?” He says to the stunned—and quite frankly horrified mistress. “Eddie Buchannan—adulterer, abuser, and the man who fucking abandons his heavily pregnant wife?”
She shakes her head, too frightened to speak.
“Go home. Move back in with your parents, hand in your resignation, and get out while you can.”
“You don’t know anything about us,” she protests, apparently finding a sticking point for her courage and lifting her chin defiantly at West. “Eddie loves me.”
“I know it ends for you the same way it did for Daisy, with him moving on to the next hot piece of ass, leaving you high and dry with a baby to raise on your own.”
“And you,” he says to Eddie. “If I ever see your face in this town again, if I ever catch you darkening this doorstep or laying a hand on Daisy-Mae again, I’ll fucking end you.” He spits on the ground and then comes toward me, holding the keys aloft. “Which is your house key, Dais?”
I point to it, and he slides it off the ring and pockets it before tossing the key chain behind him on the grass.
Then he grabs my hand and leads me into the garage.
I’m shaking so hard I can barely stand. He cups my face in his hands.
Behind him, the car starts, and I look up into West’s cool blue eyes swirling with so much concern.
“You alright, darlin’?”
I nod and then quickly shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“He hurt you?”
“No,” I sniff, trying to quell my trembling. “Only my pride.”
He wraps his arm around me and turns us in time to see Eddie reversing down the driveway.
My husband glares at us. “Sign the fucking papers, Daisy-Mae!”
West salutes him with the finger. I chuckle at how absurd this situation is, but I think I might be in shock. West hits the button for the roller door and the metal groans as it closes and settles in place.
Eddie’s car tears out of the drive, the tires screeching as he zooms away, and only when I can no longer hear his vehicle, do I start to relax. A sob tears free of my chest.
West wraps me up in a hug. “Come on, darlin’. Let’s get you inside. A little sugar and your feet up will take the edge off that fright.”
“Your face,” I say touching the spot beside his bleeding lip. He places his bloody hand over mine. “Oh god, West. Your hands.”
“You never grew up with Winchesters for siblings, Dais, and it shows.” He leads me inside, then he sets me down at the breakfast table.
West pulls the pitcher of sweet tea from the fridge and grabs a glass from the cabinet.
I like that he moves around my kitchen as if it’s his own.
I swear Eddie never learned how to open a refrigerator to grab his own beer, much less knew which cabinet I kept the glasses in.
“Here.” He slides the tea toward me. “You’ll feel better once you drink this. When did you eat last?”
“I’m fine.” I say with a nervous smile.
“Jesus. It scared the shit outta me when I saw him manhandle you like that.” He leans forward, cupping my face, searching my gaze as if he doesn’t quite believe that I’m okay.
It’s intoxicating having him this close, his cedarwood and leather scent is so delicious that my panties are soaked.
West’s eyes are deep blue and full of concern.
His shirtsleeves are rolled to expose his muscular forearms and golden tan.
I reach up and wrap my hand around his wrist, and he leans closer.
Our lips are mere inches apart, lips that are full and so, so kissable.
Recognition seems to spark behind his eyes, and his gaze drops to my mouth.
Just kiss me already. Please.
His lips meet mine, as warm and soft as I’d imagined.
Suddenly, his hand is gone from my cheek, it dips between my thighs, and just when I think he’s about to touch me where I need him the most, he grips my chair and drags it closer.
I am eight-months pregnant with a fat ass, so this was no easy feat, and he just moved me like I weigh nothing.
His tongue darts between my lips and sweeps across my own.
West’s free hand clasps the back of my neck, as if he’s afraid I’ll slip away.
I press my hands against his chest, seeking more of him, but when I moan and deepen the kiss, he pulls back.
“Shit,” he says, bringing his hand up to run through his hair. It’s covered in blood. My husband’s blood. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, that was ...” I trail off, because I don’t have the words. I don’t want him thinking I’m reading into this more than I should. “Weird.”
“Weird?” West asks, and he looks a little hurt.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s not every day I kiss my best friend.”
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s fine,” I say at the same time. “We both just got caught up in the moment.”
“Right. Adrenalin, it makes you either wanna fuck or fight. Sometimes both.”
I stand, but our chairs are so close together that I almost wind up knocking him out with my pregnant belly.
West gently puts his hands on my abdomen, as if to keep me from falling.
Too late, I guess. My eyes prick and there’s a rather inconvenient lump in my throat I can’t swallow around.
I step out of his reach, doing my best to avoid looking at him, or worse, having him see me cry.
“Dais—”
“We need to fix your hand, mister.” I waddle toward the bathroom at a clipped pace, much more energetic than I actually feel right now. My eyes are brimming with tears and I’m not even sure why.
Please don’t follow me. Please. But West is not a mind reader.
“Daisy.”
“I just need a minute to grab the first aid,” I say, hurrying for the bathroom.
“My hand is fine. Will you just stop and talk to me.”
I wave him away. “It’ll just take a second.”
“It’s not my blood,” West says. I stop and turn toward him. “Besides, I’ve known toddlers who hit harder than your husband.”
“Ex,” I correct. West raises his brow. “Or soon to be, I hope. After today, I’m going to find a good lawyer and have them read over those damn papers before I sign them.
He served me a couple weeks back, and I’m not sure why I haven’t signed them yet, but I don’t want him taking any part in my baby’s life. ”
“I don’t blame you. People like Fast Eddie are only looking out for number one. I don’t think this baby is gonna be coming to him for life advice.” His gaze bores into mine. “Now, are we done talking about Eddie, because I’d much rather talk about what just happened between us.”
“We just got—”
“Caught up. You said that already.”
“I can’t ... I have a baby.”
The corner of his mouth turns up in a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Kinda knew that already too.”
I press my fingers against my lips, swollen and puffy, still warm from his kiss. “West ... I ... I’m raising a baby alone.”
“You’re not alone. You’ve got me.” His voice wavers as he said that last word, so I look up into his eyes as I wrap the bandage around his hand.
“Whatever that looks like for you. Whatever you need from me, just say the word.” He studies my handy work and then sighs deeply.
“Besides, you do realize you’re an honorary Winchester now?
You’ve got all of us, whether you like it or not. ”
“I like it,” I whisper, tears finally spilling down my cheeks.
West smiles and his gaze drops to my mouth again.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and when he leans in, my heart starts beating out a staccato drumbeat.
His lips part. I close my eyes as he leans in .
.. and presses a kiss to my forehead. I swallow down my hurt, my longing, and my humiliation.
West cannot see any that because one kiss is a perfectly acceptable accident, but two would certainly ruin the friendship.
Another beat and he pulls away, and I want to beg him to kiss me, to touch me, but I don’t. Instead, I ask, “Will you spend the night?” His eyes go wide, and I hurry to correct him, “In case Eddie comes back.”
“I’ll stay forever if it’ll make you feel safe, Dais.”
“Thank you,” I say through a throat tight with tears.
I snuggle in against him, even though I know it’s not fair.
It’s too much to ask of him, but I can’t help it.
I need him. I want him. I just can’t afford to ruin our friendship, because he’s the one true friend I’ve got.
Besides Hadley, he’s the only one I’ve got, and I’ve never been more aware of that fact than I am right now, curled into him, as he presses a tender kiss to my hair.