Chapter 4
Four
Macklin
The Hideaway is slow tonight, but then again, it’s Sunday.
Everyone is at home, getting ready for the work week.
Bowen’s here because this place is his life—his baby, so to speak—and the rest of us?
Well, we brought Copeland here after the baby shower for a drink to celebrate. Water counts as a drink, right?
I think about how I would feel in his shoes. If Baylor were having my baby, I know without a shadow of a doubt I’d be drinking water, too. Possibly a sweet tea, but nothing alcoholic. A grin tilts my lips just thinking about the idea of that happening.
Thinking about Baylor pregnant with my baby is something I shouldn’t be doing, but now that my mind has gone there, I won’t be able to stop.
“What’s that grin for?” Dixon asks, taking a sip of his own beer, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out what he missed.
“Just thinking about Cope and all that pink,” I say.
It’s a lie, but it’s also a good cover, considering we just left his co-ed baby shower, where there was indeed a lot of pink, which has been the topic of conversation of late—ever since Copeland and Ellison found out they were having a little girl.
Copeland’s face breaks out into a huge-ass grin. “My girls” is all he says before his phone rings, and he rushes to answer it.
I eavesdrop a little on the conversation, and it sounds like Ellison’s sister might need help with something.
If Courtlynn is there, there’s a good chance that Baylor is, too.
So, when Copeland tells her that he’s on his way with the guys, I know damn well I’m all in, no matter what it is they have me doing.
I mean, I’d be in regardless—I’m always willing to help out—but knowing Baylor is more than likely there, you couldn’t keep me away.
“What’s up?” Dixon asks as soon as Copeland ends the call.
“Apparently, my sisters-in-law have decided that my wife and I need to move downstairs to the primary bedroom. It was their parents’, and it’s probably double the size of the room we’re in now.
The baby will be here soon, and they say we need the space.
” He runs his fingers through his hair, which is pretty long these days.
“It’s a bold move since none of them have been willing to take that room since they lost their parents. ”
“What can we do to help?” I offer. I’m glad Dixon asked about the call before I had a chance to.
I don’t want to sound too eager. Not that I want to hide my feelings for Baylor.
No, it’s the opposite. I’d shout them from the rooftops if I could, but I think she deserves that information before anyone else does.
“Actually, we could use some help. Courtlynn says they’re doing it tonight.”
Bowen chuckles. “Of course, she did.” He shakes his head, and I swear he mutters brat under his breath.
“I’m in,” I tell him, pushing my half-empty beer away from me.
“Me, too,” Dixon agrees.
“Might as well.” Bowen sighs. “I’m just here to have a drink with my buddies. The staff can handle closing up tonight.”
“Thanks, guys.” Copeland pushes his chair back from the table and stands.
We follow him out to our trucks and, in a convoy of sorts, head to Magnolia Estates, where the girls live—well, Copeland, too, until their house is done.
Over the years, I’d like to think that I’ve perfected my calm where Baylor is concerned.
However, tonight, that calm feels like it’s slowly unraveling.
I’m anxious to see her, and it’s only been a handful of hours since the shower ended.
I want to rush in—not the house—pull her into my arms, and kiss the hell out of her, but instead, I shove my hands into my pockets and lumber along leisurely behind the guys as Copeland leads us up the porch steps and into the house.
As soon as we step inside, we hear laughter.
I know how thrilled I am that Baylor is home, so I can only imagine that her sisters are ecstatic that she’s here to stay.
Copeland doesn’t look back as he takes the stairs two at a time, and we follow along behind him.
Dixon, me, and then Bowen bring up the rear.
“What’s going on in here?” Copeland asks, not stopping until he’s standing next to his wife, who’s sitting in a chair. He bends to kiss her and rubs his hand over her growing belly.
“We’re moving downstairs,” Ellison tells him, smiling up at him, but I can see the tears shimmer in her eyes.
“Babe, we don’t have to do this.” Copeland is quick to stall the progress to make the tears disappear.
“No, it’s time, and I know they would want us to have the space for our little girl.” Ellison wipes at her eyes. “It’s just… I really miss them,” she confesses.
As if her words were shouted, and not murmured softly to her husband, Baylor, Leighton, and Courtlynn swarm them, and for the second time today, my buddy finds himself in the middle of a Moran sisters’ embrace, but the look on his face tells me he doesn’t mind.
“You need the space,” Leighton finally says when they pull out of the embrace. “Mom and Dad would want that for both of you and their grandchild. Besides, it’s just for a little while,” Leighton says, smiling at her sister.
“It’s the right thing to do.” Ellison nods.
Copeland leans down and kisses his wife again, and I step up next to Baylor, placing my hand on the small of her back. Her heat warms my hand, and I fight the temptation to pull her closer.
“Put me to work, Bay,” I tell her. If I get to attach myself to her for the rest of the evening, you can bet your ass I’m going to.
She turns to smile at me over her shoulder. “I was just getting ready to go downstairs to start cleaning. You can—” she starts, but I interrupt her.
“Perfect. Show me what needs to be done.” Keeping my hand on the small of her back, I use the other to motion toward the door.
“Yeah?” she asks, almost as if she’s surprised I’d offer.
“That’s what we’re here for. You and I can tackle the cleaning, while everyone else packs. Besides, this room is a little crowded.”
“I’m taking this one,” Baylor calls out, pointing at me over her shoulder like she’s just claimed the last slice of pizza. “We’re going to clean everything while you all pack.”
“You want me to do that?” Bowen asks, looking at me like I just personally betrayed him. There’s a whole silent “don’t leave me with her” happening in his eyes, but I just shake my head and step a little closer to Baylor, my hand still nestled at the small of her back.
“Aw, what’s the matter, Bowen?” Courtlynn says, already circling him like she’s caught fresh prey. “You afraid of a little hard labor?”
He scoffs, straightening up. “Please. I’m afraid of your version of hard labor. Your idea of cleaning is alphabetizing the snacks and calling it productivity.”
“At least I know the alphabet,” she fires back instantly.
“On that note, we’re out,” I say, getting everyone’s attention. I press on Baylor’s back, and she gets the hint as we move toward the door and rush downstairs.
“Okay, I’m going to gather some cleaning supplies. I’ll be right back,” she tells me once we reach the bottom of the steps.
“I can help,” I say, trailing along behind her like a lost puppy. “You might not be able to carry it all.”
“Good thinking, McBride.” She grins, calling me by my last name.
She motions for me to follow her, and I do as I’m told.
“So, it’s a hardwood floor… We’ll need to sweep and mop, and I was thinking of using the mop to wash down the walls before we do the floors, and wipe down the baseboards.
I know my sisters well enough to know that after we packed up our parents’ things, that room has been untouched.
” She stops and glances at me over her shoulder. “You sure that you’re up for this?”
I chuckle and point a thumb at my chest. “Bull rider, remember,” I tease.
“Ex-bull rider,” she quips. “And let me tell you, years and years of dust bunnies can be lethal.”
That pulls another laugh from me. “What kind of man would I be if I let you go to battle with the dust bunnies all on your own?”
She pauses as if she has to think about her answer.
“One that shows up,” she mumbles under her breath, but I still hear her.
I want to pull her into my arms and tell her I’ll be there every second of every moment from here on out, but she’s not ready for that.
She literally just let that piece of shit, who never appreciated her, go.
She’s barely been home twenty-four hours.
I need to slow my roll just a little, but not so slow that she doesn’t know I want her.
It’s a very thin line I’m trying to walk when all I want to do is race toward the finish.
Race toward her.
Instead of telling her that, I bite my tongue and reach around her to grab the mop bucket and start filling it with water. Baylor pours in some cleaner before gathering more supplies.
“Okay,” she says, once we’re standing outside the closed bedroom door. She pulls in a deep breath and slowly exhales.
“Baylor, let me do this for you,” I say, my tone gentle. “You can go help the others pack.”
“No, it’s okay.” She reaches over and places her hand on my arm, giving it a soft squeeze. “Thank you, but I need to do this. We all do.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, before turning the handle, pushing the door open, and stepping into the room.
I step in behind her, placing the mop bucket and the mop down, as I wait for her to tell me what she wants to do first. She, too, sets all her supplies down, then slowly walks around the room.
Finally, when she speaks, it’s with the sass that I know and love from her. “All right, Macklin McBride, let’s get moving. These walls aren’t going to wash themselves.”
She bends over to pick up the window cleaner and a microfiber cloth. When she stands, I reach into the mop bucket, get my hands wet, and flick water at her.
“Hey!” She turns around, laughing.
“That’s what you get for sassing, Moran,” I tease.