The Wild Card, page 7
Hayes laughs, holding out his tray of drinks. “Afraid so.”
I take the other tray and sigh, walking through the door that has Bridal by Kyleigh etched on the glass. A bell rings to alert everyone I’ve arrived. Awesome.
The heads of all the women seated on the couches in front of a huge mirror turn in my direction, and that’s when I see Callie standing in the center of them, dressed in a fucking wedding dress. My arms lose strength for a second, and the trays tip out of my grip, but I recover before they fall to the floor.
“Oh jeez, look at him. He’s gonna break out in hives.” A brunette standing off to the side rushes over, laughing.
My eyes are locked on Callie, and hers are on mine through the mirror. Why the hell is she in a wedding dress? I don’t like the image that comes to mind of another man around my kid. Or around her. And that second part is the problem—because a fast, brutal flash of mine to protect sears straight through me.
“We were just trying to convince Leighton how pretty a ball gown style with pockets is,” the brunette I don’t know says.
As if hearing the woman, Callie pulls her hands out of the pockets. She looks like a princess, though I’m definitely not her white knight. Regardless, I want to stomp over there and throw her over my shoulder.
Shit, where did that just come from? I shake my head.
“I’m Kyleigh, by the way. Rowan Landry’s wife.”
I’ve met Rowan and a few of the other guys from the Falcons a few times, but I’ve never met their wives. All I really know is they all have families and live on the same street. That’s some close shit for teammates.
“Foster Davis.”
She laughs and takes one of the trays from me. “I know.”
I follow her to the table at the side of the group. She calls off orders and women raise their hands, all eyes on me.
“This is an absolute no.” Leighton comes out of the hallway in a dress with a huge bow on her right hip. She sees all the women staring at me and ducks around a corner.
“He’s outside,” I tell her.
“Oh good.” She comes back out, walking toward me. “You can come closer. Marriage isn’t contagious.” Kyleigh sets the last drink on the table near Leighton. “Thank you for this. I know Hayes probably sprang it on you.”
I tuck my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “No problem.” My gaze keeps straying to Callie, who is oddly quiet.
Leighton smiles at me and turns to the center stage area. “Oh, Callie, it is beautiful, but I think it suits you more than me. It’s gorgeous.” Leighton glances at me over her shoulder. “Don’t you think so, Foster?”
Her smile says she knows, and if she knows, then I have to think Hayes is next.
Callie said we’d tell him together, but what if he finds out before we have a chance? The two of us decided we’d wait until we go to the doctor because why cause all that turmoil before the doctor confirms everything is okay? Still, something about Hayes not knowing feels like a knife is lodged in my throat.
“Yeah,” I croak.
The entire room giggles.
“Oh, let the poor guy go. He looks like he could throw up,” Kyleigh says.
Just then Hayes and Callie’s mom comes out of the backroom, and her eyes light up when she sees me. My smile widens because I love Mrs. Carlisle.
“Foster!” She rushes over with her arms open, and I try to loosen my muscles and not seem so stiff as she throws her arms around me and buries her head in my chest. “Oh, you’re a lifesaver. Hopefully the caffeine helps take the edge off.”
“We’re fine, Mom,” Callie says with a note of exasperation.
Jennifer Carlisle is like a mom from television. She’s patient, loving, and treats you as if you’re the best person who was ever born. Even me.
Mrs. Carlisle rolls her eyes. “You know my Callie, she likes to get her way.”
Callie inhales deeply, and she steps down from the pedestal. I finally feel as though I can breathe again. I hope she goes in the back and takes off that beautiful fucking dress. But she doesn’t turn toward the back. She walks right over to me.
The dress swooshes as she walks, and the closer she gets, the more my throat closes up. “I was just showing Leighton the dress she’s missing out on.”
“I think you’re missing out on the dress. Buy it for the future.” Leighton sips her coffee, staring at Callie and me. “You never know when you might want to run off to Vegas and marry someone.” She shrugs, looking at me from the corner of her eye.
“She’ll probably sneak off and come back with a wedding ring on her finger and a baby in her belly.” Mrs. Carlisle puts her arm around her daughter’s waist and tugs her to her side. “She’s impulsive, and we love her for it.” She smacks a kiss on Callie’s cheek.
Callie’s eyes drill into mine again. Now my heart feels as though it’s fighting a rip current—kicking for air, desperate to make it back to shore.
“I should go.” I back step toward the door.
“Is Hayes out there?” Mrs. Carlisle asks.
I nod. “Yeah, he’s adamant about not seeing Leighton.”
She laughs. “Tell him I’ll see him at Peeper’s in a little bit? And you come too.”
“Ah… I have some things to do.” I am not going to be in the same room as Callie and everyone else until Hayes knows what’s going on.
“Not anymore. Nothing is more important than spending time with me, your second mother.”
Sadly, she is the closest thing I’ve had to a mother since I was eleven.
“Mom, let him be. He’s a busy guy.” Callie doesn’t say it vindictively, and she’s not throwing laser eyes my way, but still some part of me wants her to be just as uncomfortable as I am.
“I’ll stop by for a little bit,” I say.
“Oh good.” Mrs. Carlisle brings her hands together in front of her.
“Thanks, Foster!” Kyleigh raises her cup. “And tell Hayes thank you too.”
“Yeah… um, good to meet you.”
We all stand there awkwardly, and my eyes soak in Callie one more time before I clear my throat and circle around, getting the hell out of the store.
“You survived!” Hayes pockets his phone and pushes off the brick wall. “I thought they swallowed you up in there.”
Almost.
“Fuck no.”
Now I just need to erase the image of Callie in a wedding dress from my head. She’s gonna be the mother of my child, so of course some twisted part of me thinks there could be more here. But a relationship would only complicate our co-parenting dynamic, so I need to put her in a box that doesn’t involve sex.
Easier said than done.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Callie
I’ve tried ten times to get out of going to Peeper’s, but my mom was insistent—even when Leighton tried to come to my rescue by telling her I have a lot going on with the podcast.
So reluctantly, I walk into Peeper’s Alley, dreading the fact I have to be around Foster without anyone knowing a piece of him is growing in my stomach.
I haven’t been able to get his pale face out of my mind when he saw me in a wedding dress. It was probably his worst nightmare. He looked pale then green, as though he wanted to search for the nearest trash can so he could go vomit. I wanted to tell him he doesn’t have to worry—I don’t expect a proposal just because I’m carrying his baby. I thought that went without saying, but maybe I need to confirm to him that it’s not the nineteen fifties.
“I know it’s Foster,” Leighton whispers as my mom swarms Ruby with an unwelcome hug and we trail behind. “You’re not hiding it very well.”
“You have no idea.”
I haven’t told Leighton yet even though I said I would. Mostly because I don’t want to put her in a worse situation with my brother. I kind of wish I would’ve just hung on to the news for a while, so she wasn’t always pestering me about who the father is.
And she’s a nurse and observant as fuck, so of course she noticed Foster ready to keel over in fear and anxiety when he saw me standing up there in a wedding dress.
“Exactly! Because you aren’t telling me.”
I steel myself and put on a brave face as we’re about to go through the door into the private room. I have to ready myself to brave an hour or two of uncomfortableness as I pretend I’m not pregnant with my brother’s best friend’s baby, and also try to act as normal as I can with my best friend who knows what’s going on. But before we go in, the door to Peeper’s opens, and Hayes walks in with Foster and the three kids. Foster’s talking to Lincoln about something, Monroe is in Hayes’s arms, and Lake looks as though she’d rather be lying on a bed of nails than be in the bar.
“Oh, they aren’t here yet.” Leighton ditches the plan to head into the backroom and meets Hayes in the middle of the bar.
Monroe wraps her arm around Leighton without letting go of Hayes, and the three of them stand there in a little hug for a moment. I have no idea what Hayes whispers to Leighton, but her face flushes.
My mom calls Lake over to her side. There goes my buffer.
Foster and Lincoln walk toward us, and Lincoln puts a hand up for me to give him a high five. Foster says nothing, passing me and going into the backroom. I guess that’s how this needs to go so no one suspects anything. I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t hurt though.
Eventually I make my way into the room, and the rest of our group joins us. Somehow, I still end up next to Foster. He leans back with his arms crossed and his eyes on the television. I didn’t realize he’d be so into watching contestants try to win a competition by climbing slippery steps but whatever. It’s easier if we ignore one another.
Ruby comes in with chocolate milk for Lincoln and Shirley Temples for Monroe and Lake, their usual requests. She’s really come around to having the kids here.
She slaps Foster on the shoulder. “What’s with you?”
Hayes’s eyes stray from the screen over to Ruby. “I asked the same thing.”
Great. They’re sensing something’s off.
“I’m fine. Just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” Foster says.
“Keep your bedroom antics out of the kids’ ears, please,” Hayes says.
I want to stick my finger in my throat. It’s terribly unfair that he has no idea Foster was up all night pondering being a dad and how it will affect the rest of his life.
Foster scowls at my brother. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I just couldn’t sleep.”
“What do you want?” Ruby comes over to me.
Of course the show goes to a commercial, so everyone is looking at me now.
“Um…” I’d usually have a glass of wine or at least a seltzer, but that’s not happening. “I’ll just have a… Sprite?”
Ruby’s eyes narrow at me. “You’re not drinking?”
Thanks, Mom.
I shrug, trying to play it off. “The coffee earlier made my stomach a little queasy.”
Foster turns toward me, and his gaze dips to my stomach. I nudge my foot against his under the table. His eyes snap back up, and he turns to look at the television.
“Oh, I hope you didn’t get mine,” Leighton says. “You know how I take so much sugar.”
Leighton for the win.
“Sugar? You don’t take sugar.”
Shut up, Hayes.
Leighton rolls her eyes. “I do when we get it out.”
Just pile on the guilt that she’s now trying to convince her loving fiancé that she takes her coffee differently at a café than at home.
“Since when?” Hayes, of course, doesn’t let it go because no one knows Leighton like he does.
“Since I sipped someone’s at work by accident and liked it.”
Hayes’s eyebrows shoot up. “Someone who?”
“She does know people you don’t, Hayes.” I try to get her out of the mess I created, but he narrows his eyes at her.
“Is this someone male?” he asks.
“Oh, how is Elias? Did he ever get to Colombia for that bike trip he wanted to go on?” My mom came in for the save when she didn’t even know it was needed.
Thank you, Mom.
“And you?” Ruby asks Foster, ignoring our back and forth.
He strips his attention from the screen and looks at Ruby. “I’ll just have a… water.”
“Water?” Easton says, walking into the room with Decker right behind him. “Since when do you drink water?”
“Since I want to.” Foster returns his attention to the TV.
Easton and Decker both say hello to the kids and give my mom a hug.
“Where’s Dave?” Decker asks.
Mom pats him on the cheek. “Golfing.”
“We should’ve gone golfing,” Easton says, sitting down. “Ruby, can I have a beer?”
Decker raises his hand. “Make that two. Thanks, Ruby.”
She leaves and thank God the entire drink fiasco is over.
As they talk about the slippery stairs on the show and how one girl is almost to the top, a rush of nausea hits me. I’ve had a few queasy moments, but no real morning sickness.
Great, I manifested it with my lie. Karma is here to teach me a lesson.
I get up and walk toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Hayes asks, and everyone turns to look at me.
A sharp comeback is on my tongue, but my gaze snags on Monroe. “Bathroom,” I mutter.
“Are you okay? You look pale,” Mom asks, half rising off her chair.
“I have to go too,” Foster mumbles and comes alongside me. “I’ve got her, Jennifer.”
What is he doing? He’s drawing more attention to us. I’m practically ready for Hayes to ask what the hell is going on, but Monroe asks him if they can make guacamole tomorrow for National Guacamole Day.
Thank you, Monroe.
I step out of the room, and Foster shuts the door behind me. Ruby eyes me from the bar, and I feel like I did the first time I smoked pot and was so paranoid I convinced myself the police were watching me through the windows.
I smile and walk toward the bathroom hallway, stopping outside of the men’s.
“You need to snap out of it,” I whisper, “and order a damn beer.”
His head draws back. “Sorry if I’m not even done processing the fact that I’m going to be a father,” he whispers back. “And then I go into that bridal store and find you wearing a wedding dress.”
I tilt my head. “Your worst nightmare, right? Well, don’t worry about it, big guy. I’m not expecting you to go down on bended knee just because your dick shoots magic sperm.” He looks as though he wants to say something, but I continue on. “If you don’t start acting like your grumpy, pissed-off self, they’re going to figure out that something is going on.”
“Me getting you pregnant is the last thing they’ll think happened.” He frowns.
I rear back. “Excuse me? Why? Am I not good enough for you to sleep with?”
“Fuck, Callie, no. I just meant because as Hayes’s best friend, I should’ve kept my hands in my pockets and my tongue in my damn mouth. And I definitely should’ve kept my dick in my pants.”
He was a good kisser. Rushed, but good.
He sighs and takes off his ball cap, setting it back on his head right away. “I feel guilty as shit. Does Leighton know it’s me?”
“She suspects, but I haven’t told her.”
His lips press together. “She acts like she knows. Maybe we shouldn’t wait to tell your brother. We should just go in there and tell him.”
I give him a what the fuck look. “Um… no. My mom is in that room. I get it. I do. I hate keeping this from him. It’s all I can think of when we’re with him. And poor Leighton. But we agreed to wait until we saw the doctor.”
He sucks in a breath then nods. “Right. What if… the tests are wrong?”
I haven’t told Foster that if he read the box of the pregnancy test, he’d see that it’s unlikely they could all be faulty, but I also understand seeing a doctor and getting the news from a professional before we scream it from the rooftops and explode our world. I honestly have no idea how my brother is going to take this news.
“Regardless, you’re going in there and ordering a beer.” I thumb in the direction of the backroom.
“I can’t.”
“Why? I’m sorry, are you the one who is currently growing a human being in your body?”
He shrugs. “I’m not, but you are.”
“What does that mean?”
Foster looks at me as though he’d rather spit razor blades than confess whatever he’s thinking.
“Foster, what am I missing?”
He hems and haws, repositioning his hat once more. “I can’t really do anything to help you through this, so I just thought, if you can’t drink, I don’t drink.”
When I laugh, a flash of hurt hits his eyes, making me feel like a jerk.
I rest my hand on his forearm. It’s so muscular. I wonder what it would feel like if his fingers were diving in and out of me.
What the hell was that?
I blink and shake my head. “I’m sorry. That’s incredibly sweet of you, but unnecessary.”
His eyebrows draw down. “I’m doing it.”
There’s a finality to his tone. I want to fight him on it, tell him he doesn’t owe me anything, but I’m not sure I can change his mind.
“Fine, but you’ll have to go back to making sarcastic insults to people.”
A cocky smirk crosses his face, and my libido starts up like a racecar engine. “You telling me you want me to be a dick?” He leans forward a little, caging me against the wall.
I wish I could break the small amount of distance between us and kiss him. “I’m telling you to be yourself.”
“You looked beautiful by the way.” His voice is a low whisper. “In the dress.”
My cheeks heat. Although his tough and rough act gets me hot, his compliments are like a simmer slowly heating up my insides—and my libido.
“Thank you. But I mean it, I’m not looking for any dramatic acts of solidarity here. We’re going to co-parent our little one, but that’s all.”
He nods, but his eyes don’t stray from mine.
