Chapter 25 #2
“Make sure none of this burns,” he said, tossing the spatula at Luca, who grabbed it deftly in the air.
“Who’s that?” Olivia said, helping herself to a veggie tray.
But he didn’t hear her as he swung the door open and his eyes landed on Allison.
She looked gorgeous in a bright yellow milkmaid-style sundress and a pale green cardigan over it with little white flowers. The top clung to her curves with a flirty bow tied in front. Her pretty pink lips had a gloss over them, and she waved to a car backing out of his mom’s driveway.
A “Gorgeous” might have sighed out of his lips; he wasn’t sure.
He’d thought about her nonstop since yesterday, wanting to hold her in his arms again. Couldn’t stop thinking about lecturing her father.
He’d stopped himself twice from going to her parents’ house and yelling at him again.
She’d lived with those people as a child. Instead of running for the hills, she’d chosen to try to make them happy again and again.
“Hey, come in,” Wells said, noting her empty hands. “Change your mind about the gift bags?”
“Oh no.” She realized her mistake immediately and looked panicky. “I got a ride over with Lily because we ran late at the Cooperstown Bloom store, and forgot the cute grandparents’ thing. I’m sorry, I’ll drive home if you give me—”
“Don’t worry about it, okay?” he said calmly, tugging her inside. “Come in.”
“Hey, you,” Olivia said, confused, as she clocked Allison.
Annabelle immediately started chattering to Allison about her Girl Scout troop, and Allison gave her her undivided attention, smoothing a hand over Annabelle’s hair with a smile.
His heart twisted at the sight for some reason.
“Hello, dear,” his mom said to Allison as she came into the kitchen. “Are you joining us for dinner? I hope so.”
“Though his chicken isn’t as tender as mine,” Pop said, hitting Wells playfully on the shoulder.
“I invited her,” Wells said, and all five members of his family, Annabelle included, turned to stare at him.
“Food’s ready,” Luca called.
They moved the green beans, chicken, potatoes, and wheat-free rolls to the table.
“To what do we owe the pleasure? Did you lose a bet?” Olivia smirked into a glass of wine that she’d poured for herself and the rest of the adults. Allison’s wine glass sat untouched.
“Um, something like that,” Allison said, her eyes darting to Wells, who pressed his knee to hers under the table. She pressed back.
They all looked expectantly at him instead of diving into the food that was getting cold.
“I guess now’s as good a time as any,” he said, looking directly at Allison. “We’re having a baby.”
Blinking, shocked faces stared back at him. Allison clutched his hand under the table.
But unlike the previous night, a burst of excited yells, laughter, and happiness erupted, arms flailing as his mother launched out of her chair.
He found Allison’s eyes and saw her sigh of relief as Olivia wrapped Allison in a tight hug.
His mom squeezed the life out of him, her head even with his since he was sitting down.
“Mom, are you crying?”
“Of course,” his mom said, her voice wobbly. “I can’t believe you’re having a baby.” Her tiny, bony hands cupped his cheeks.
“You happy?”
Her lips wobbled. “I went from no grandchildren two weeks ago to now having two? I’ve never been better.”
Pop walked over, and Wells stood as the small man wrapped him in a fierce hug.
“Congrats, my boy,” he said in a choked voice, patting him on the back. “Annabelle, you’re going to have to put in overtime helping me get up to snuff as a grandpa. Can you do that?” he said, peering down at her, and she nodded happily.
Luca shook Wells’s hand, a sly smile on his face. “I have a lot of questions,” he murmured to Wells.
Wells clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll explain the birds and bees to you later.”
Everybody buzzed with all the kindest questions. How far along were they? Had they thought about names? How was Allison feeling?
The relief on Allison’s face was palpable. He liked that she fit so well with his family—kind and warm. He knew in his bones that she cared about each one of the people at the table.
“This make up for yesterday?” he said, leaning over to whisper to her as everybody else was absorbed in another conversation.
Allison nodded, chewing a giant mouthful of chicken. “Much better,” she sighed. “I’m really glad I’m doing this with you.”
That shy, lopsided smile of hers tugged at his heart, and he stopped himself from kissing her. The sweetness of her words reverberated through him.
Not what he would’ve expected from Allison I’d-prefer-to-shove-you-into-traffic Styles.
As they all passed dishes and conversations overlapped in the flickering candlelight around his mother’s well-worn table, Wells felt like he was exactly where he belonged.
Had he been happier? He didn’t think so.
They all talked about Luca and Olivia’s wedding plans for the fall. He talked about the diner, teased Allison, Allison teased him back, and everybody laughed harder at her jokes.
He hadn’t considered how she might become part of his family.
In his naivete, he’d assumed she’d drop their child off for family dinners.
Those plans were readjusting as he watched Allison, deep in conversation with his mother and Olivia about shopping for maternity clothes.
Maybe she would stay for family dinners.
Maybe Annabelle and any kids Olivia and Luca had would call her Aunt Allison.
Hmm. He laughed into his glass of wine, surprised he hadn’t thought of that himself—that she’d want to be part of his family.
She looked gorgeous in the flickering low light of his mom’s dining room, and he was so fucking glad they had a contract in place.
Otherwise, he might start getting ideas.
They rode home together a while later, and he pulled to a stop beside her cottage.
“Would you mind if I stopped in to see Harry?” she asked.
“Smokey,” he countered, smiling, and kept going down the gravel drive to his house.
She shook her head with a quiet smile. “The cat food smell doesn’t bother me as much now. I’m feeling a lot better.”
“I saw you ate a whole plate at dinner,” he said, finally giving his eyes permission to linger over every bit of her as they walked up to the front of his house. “You know everyone in town will have heard by morning, right?”
She chuckled. How had he never noticed how throaty and sexy her laugh was?
“I figured. I told Pearl two days ago, so that’s fine. Saves us the trouble.”
Smokey meowed her approval as they walked in. Allison set her bag down and gracefully knelt down on the floor, her yellow dress billowing around her knees, looking like the sexiest embodiment of a pool of sunshine he’d ever seen.
She bent over to cuddle Smokey’s face onto hers, talking to her.
He’d kept his eyes trained on his plate throughout dinner to avoid staring at her breasts that now spilled out of the front of her top as she bent over. She had color back in her cheeks after looking run-down for the last two months.
She was practically glowing as she smiled at the cat, being silly on its back, playing with her fingers as she teased it. Like a sexy, elegant princess he was destined to stare at from a distance for the rest of his life.
Goddamnit, he was attracted to her.
His eyes lingered on her cleavage. “You look nice,” he said, his voice rough.
Her eyes lifted up with a confused smile as she continued to play with the cat. “You’ve seen me all night.”
“Just saying, being pregnant looks…” He gulped, trying to stare anywhere else but at her breasts that were larger than he remembered. God, he missed them. “It looks good on you.”
“The dress?” she said, confused.
“You. Being pregnant.”
She sat back, staring at him, realizing the weight of his words. “Being not a jerk looks nice on you too,” she said, tilting her head with a smile.
All he wanted was to run his lips along her exposed neck as she teased him. Right there, with her breasts half out, he wanted to ask her to stay.
I should ask her to stay.
I want her to stay.
But for what? Cuddling?
He sighed. They were done with the baby-making part.
And to admit that he wanted more—well, that was expressly against the contract, wasn’t it?
“I’ll walk you back home,” he said, holding out a hand to help her stand up.
“It’s a hundred feet away,” she said, taking his hand and pulling herself up.
He held her hand a second or two or three longer than was truly necessary, then dropped it. But he didn’t step away.
He wished there was some drama or emergency on hand so he could pull her into a hug one more time.
Give him an excuse to kiss her.
“It’s dark,” he said, his eyes flitting to her lips unwillingly. She was staring at his mouth too.
But that chapter was closed, right?
Her smile seemed sad.
“We’ll be fine, Shortcake and I.” She bent down to pick up her purse. “Bye, Harry.” She bent down one more time to stroke her from head to tail.
Wells had to close his eyes to keep from groaning at the excellent things that did for her cleavage.
He watched her from the open door, waving as she walked down the drive to her cottage.
Sex is probably the very last thing on her mind.
Unlike him, who had developed a taste for her and wasn’t sure he could ever get rid of it.