All We Want (Alabama Summer Book 6)

by J. Daniels

  There are tables there, little round ones with two chairs pulled up. Most of them are occupied.

  Seated alone at one of the tables is the pregnant girl from the awkward elevator ride we shared. She’s scrolling through her phone while picking at a muffin, and before I have the chance to look away from her, she lifts her head and recognizes me.

  We smile at each other in that ‘running into a stranger for a second time’ kind of way. It’s familiar and friendly. Then the girl cuts her eyes away and hastily searches through her bag while pushing to her feet.

  She walks over with it, her hand outstretched, clutching a few bills.

  I shake my head and wave off her hand-out.

  “I wanted to pay you back for the other day,” she explains, getting beside me. Her face is youthful and round. Her cheeks a little flushed from the hurried walk over.

  “You don’t need to do that. It was nothing.”

  “I don’t like owing people.” She moves forward with me in line, gesturing at the display case of pastries when we step up to the bar. “Can I at least buy you a muffin? They’re pretty good.”

  I wasn’t planning on getting anything besides a drink, but what psycho turns down free food?

  “Okay. Sure.”

  She smiles at me, looking almost relieved. “Cool.”

  I order the Strawberry Frappuccino and a blueberry muffin, thanking the woman behind the bar after I’m handed the pastry bag.

  “I’m glad we’re even now,” the young girl says, glancing back at the tables. “You can, um . . . sit with me, if you want.” Her eyes meet mine. “I mean, if you’re planning on sitting. I don’t mind sharing my table.”

  I look around the seating area.

  Every other table is occupied now, and even though I had planned on eating my muffin in the car, I’m not in any real rush to leave. I have time to eat before I head to the market.

  My gaze returns to hers.

  She’s watching me, waiting for my answer. I wonder if this girl wants company right now and wishes she had it. She’s alone. . . . Maybe that’s why she’s offering this, instead of waiting for me to ask if she wouldn’t mind sharing a table with me.

  I pop a bite of muffin in my mouth. Blueberry bursts against my tongue. “Okay. Let me just get my drink, then I’ll come over.”

  “Cool.” She smiles again and backs away, spinning around and returning to her chair.

  I join her shortly after.

  “I’m Bri,” she says once I’m seated across from her.

  “Tessa. Thanks again for the muffin.”

  “No problem.” She takes another bite of hers. “Do you work here?”

  “No, I just drop in once a week. I work for one of the doctors.”

  “Oh. What do you do?”

  “I’m a transcriptionist.”

  Her nose wrinkles. She pops another bite of muffin into her mouth. “What is that? I don’t know what that is . . .”

  “I basically just listen to his recordings and then type it up so he can read it.”

  “Sounds super boring.”

  I laugh a little. “Yeah, well, it pays good, and I can work from home. That’s a nice bonus.”

  Bri shrugs, leaning back in her chair. “I guess that’s cool.”

  I take a sip of my drink. Sweet strawberry sugar fills my mouth. I’m going to be wound after this. Wow.

  “My doctor is upstairs. I’m here a lot.” Bri’s hands form to her belly, which is much more noticeable now than the last time I saw her. The T-shirt she’s wearing stretches over her form, distorting the faded graphic on the front. “I have to come in pretty much every week at this point. It’s really annoying.”

  “When are you due?”

  “Next month. The tenth.”

  I smile at her. “You’re almost done. That’s exciting.”

  “Yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “I can’t wait to not be the size of a house anymore. That’s the only exciting part about it. Everything else is going to suck. The actual birth? Uh, no thanks. I hear that’s the worst pain ever. Right? That’s what everybody says . . .”

  “I guess. I wouldn’t know.”

  She stares at me for a breath, then her head tilts to the side. “Oh . . . yeah, you told me you really want to get pregnant. That you would cut a bitch to look like this.” She points at her stomach. “Didn’t you say that?”

  “That was me.”

  “Have you been trying for a long time?”

  “A little over a year . . .”

  “Oh, shit.” She winces. “And you’re still not pregnant? This was my first time.” She gives me a knowing look. “You know . . . doing it. And I didn’t mean for it to happen. This was an accident. You’ve probably done it, what . . . like, a hundred thousand times by now. Maybe more than that . . . and still, nothing? That sucks.”

  My eyebrows tick up. I tear off another chunk of muffin and stuff it into my mouth. My gaze lowers to the table as I chew.

  Everything comes full circle. Karma included. Was I this obnoxiously forward when I was younger? Probably.

  I might still be . . . huh.

  Watch your words, Tessa. They will return to slap you across the face.

  I swallow my bite with a generous sip of Frappuccino.

  “Sorry.” Bri draws my eyes up. Her smile is pleadingly apologetic. “Was that rude? I’m really sorry if that was rude.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “I hope you get pregnant soon. Like tomorrow . . . or today! I hope you get pregnant today.”

  I chuckle quietly. “Thanks.”

  “Or you could just take my baby . . .”

  I nearly swallow my tongue. Jesus Christ.

  “What?”

  Bri giggles at my reaction. “Just take my baby. I mean, you should. You know?”

  We stare at each other.

  The strangest feeling coils in my gut. Like a virus spreading . . .

  What the hell? Who says that to a person?

  This conversation just went from borderline uncomfortable to strange as shit. Seriously? Take my baby? What a sick joke. Why am I even sitting here?

  Bri keeps smiling at me, and it isn’t forced. Not in the least, which I would expect right now. This isn’t a remorseful, ‘Sorry, I misspoke. I’m totally kidding!’ kind of smile. She’s genuinely grinning at me, like we’re friends, and like she’s meant every word she’s ever spoken to me. Then her mouth is opening to say something else, and I’m almost too afraid to hear it.

  What the hell do you follow that up with? Is she about to offer up her body for next-go? Let Luke have a round with her since I’m obviously having difficulty housing his sperm?

  I will go to jail for sure if I hear anything even remotely close to that coming out of her mouth. No way is she eighteen yet. Close to it, maybe. Pummeling a minor in the fucking face? What is that, twenty to life? Add on the fact that I’d be endangering her unborn child. I’ll get the max sentence. Absolutely.

  It’s probably best I don’t stick around to find out what else she has to say to me.

  “I need to go.” I push to my feet, grabbing up my drink and the rest of my muffin. I crumble it up in the pastry bag. “Jesus . . . and you called me a weirdo? Who says shit like that? Have a nice life. Or don’t. I don’t really give a fuck.”

  Her mouth drops open as she blinks up at me.

  I drop my trash in the bin, tossing everything, I no longer want it, and rush away from the table.

  “Wait!” she hollers out at my back. “Hey, wait a minute!”

  I keep moving, ignoring her, and step out through the double doors, dropping my glasses down to shield my eyes from the bright July sun.

  “Wait! Please? I can’t run like this . . .”

  My feet freeze on the pavement. Really?

  Okay. Maybe she doesn’t know how incredibly inappropriate that was. Not to mention, weird. Straight up weird.

  She’s young. This can be a life lesson for her. Maybe the first of many.

&
nbsp; I spin around and watch her walk outside.

  She’s out of breath, holding the strap of her purse with one hand and the bottom of her belly with the other. “I’m sorry,” she immediately says, moving closer. “Just wait, okay? I can explain.”

  “There’s an explanation? You really meant to say that to me?” I cross my arms under my chest and cock out my hip. “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this . . .”

  She frowns, stopping when we’re a foot apart. “It was a weird thing to just . . . blurt out, I’m sorry. I know it was weird. But, I said it because I’m not keeping my baby. Like, I’m being for real—I’m giving it away. So I just . . . I don’t know, I said it because you want a baby and I have one I could technically give you.” She pants a few breaths. “You know?”

  I blink behind my glasses. “No, I don’t know. What the fuck are you talking about? What do you mean, you could technically give me your baby?”

  “I’m giving my kid up for adoption!” Bri gestures at herself. “I’m in the process of picking out a freaking family to give this to, and I haven’t picked one yet. And you seemed cool for like, two seconds. I thought maybe you would want it, but forget it if you’re just going to yell at me. Forget I said anything, all right?” She turns and stalks away.

  What the fuck?

  Wait . . .

  WHAT THE FUCK?

  “Hey!” I rush over to her, gripping her elbow so she’ll stop retreating. “Wait, okay? Just . . . wait a minute. God.”

  “What?” She wrenches her arm back.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you, it’s just . . .” I pull in a deep breath, calming myself. “I’m sorry, okay?”

  Bri adjusts the strap on her shoulder. “Yeah, okay. That wasn’t cool though.”

  “I know. But, trust me, it’s nothing personal. That’s how I would react to anyone. If you knew me, you would know I’m kind of a bitch,” I pause when her eyes widen. “Which probably isn’t selling myself in terms of you picking me to give your baby to and I can not believe we’re having this conversation.”

  She stares at me.

  Oh, my God, is this happening? I can’t believe this is happening right now.

  “You’re serious . . . you’re giving your baby up for adoption and you would consider us?”

  “Yeah. I mean, if you would want it.” Her shoulders jerk. “I’m working with an agency and I have this binder of couples or families who want to adopt, and everyone seems great. It’s hard to pick when no one stands out. And I have to pick soon.” She rubs her belly. “Like, soon soon. Then I ran into you, and you seem cool. I like how you talk to other people, it’s funny. Plus, you bought me that muffin. I thought, maybe you’d adopt it. You’ve been trying for so long, you obviously really want a kid . . .”

  “W-We do.” I clear my throat when my voice catches. “It’s . . . it’s all we want.” My eyes burn with the threat of tears. Thank God I have my sunglasses on. I don’t want to seem desperate right now, but God, it’s all I feel.

  “Would you and your husband adopt a kid?” she asks.

  “We’ve talked about it, yeah. Absolutely.”

  “I’d have to get you in touch with the agency I use. There’s like, screening stuff they do, house visits, plus paperwork . . . and it costs money. Not like a crazy amount, but it’s not free, you know?”

  “Of course. And I’d have to talk to my husband.” I giggle, shaking my head. “He obviously has no idea this conversation is happening . . . I still can’t believe it’s happening. My heart is beating so fast right now, it’s insane.” I run my hand over my sternum, blowing out a deep breath. “Wow. Okay. Wow . . .”

  Bri smiles at me. “You want a baby bad, huh?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m tempted to not let you out of my sight until you pop out this kid, which seems psychotic and is probably another thing I shouldn’t have shared with you . . .”

  She laughs a good two seconds before I allow myself to join her.

  “This is crazy,” I say. “Um, do you want to exchange numbers? And you should probably meet my husband before you like, officially decide, right?”

  Or not. You could just sign over your baby to me now. That would be amazing.

  Bri nods while digging out her phone. “Yeah, they recommend I meet everyone if it’s more than one person adopting.”

  “Do you want to maybe come over for dinner?” I ask. “Tonight? Or tomorrow . . . we’re pretty flexible. Whenever you’re free.”

  “I can’t tonight. I could do it Friday . . .”

  “Friday works. We can do Friday.”

  “Okay.” She holds up her phone. “Should we . . .”

  “Yeah. Absolutely.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and we exchange numbers. “I’m Tessa Evans, by the way, in case last names are relevant. And my husband is Luke. Luke Evans.”

  “Evans is a cool last name.”

  “It is.”

  I’ve never thought that before, but I’m thinking it now. Hell yeah, Evans is a cool last name. Cool enough for her baby, that’s for sure.

  She drops her phone into her purse, grips the strap, and smiles at me.

  “Okay, great.” I grin. I can’t just smile. There is no just smiling at this point. I almost want to hug this girl. Actually, I seriously do, but no way am I pushing that boundary.

  We could be getting a baby!

  “I’ll go talk to him, and then if we’re good, which I’m sure we will be (please please please, be good with this) I’ll text you our address and we’ll see you Friday night.”

  “Cool.” Bri lifts her hand to wave as she turns away from me.

  “Uh, see ya!” I call out.

  She smiles over her shoulder before disappearing around the building.

  “Oh, my God,” I whisper, looking down at my screen.

  Did that just happen?

  I blink to clear my vision, then, with shaky fingers, I pull up Luke’s contact information and hit Dial, pressing the phone to my ear.

  “Hey, babe,” he answers on the second ring.

  “Where are you right now?”

  “Precinct. Just got back.”

  “Okay, don’t leave. I’m coming to you.”

  “Why? What’s up?”

  I beam as tears stream down my face. “You are not going to believe this . . .”

  I STOP AT the entrance into the kitchen and press my shoulder against the wall, my mouth lifting in the corner as I watch Tessa at the stove.

  She’s stirring two pots at once, looking between them while risking occasional glances at the chicken popping in the skillet. When she opens the oven door and peeks at the lasagna cooking, my chest rumbles with a laugh.

  Tessa closes the door and peers back at me.

  Strands of red hair hang in her eyes. She bats them away. “What?”

  I bring my arms across my chest. “Is it still just that girl coming for dinner, or did you invite everyone we know? How much food are you makin’ for this?”

  She fixes the messy knot at the top of her head. “I didn’t want to just offer chicken or some other meat if she’s vegan or something. How fucking rude would that be?”

  “So just make lasagna. Why are you making chicken too?”

  “Maybe she doesn’t like pasta . . .” Tessa turns back to the stove and resumes stirring. “I don’t think I’m overdoing this, so don’t tell me I am.”

  I straighten off the wall and stalk toward her.

  I could argue with her right now, or try and convince Tessa that she needs to relax about this, but I know it wouldn’t matter what I say to her. I tried getting her out of her head yesterday when she went on a cleaning rampage, telling her this girl wouldn’t care if the siding outside needed to be power-washed or how spotless the upstairs bathtub looked. Tessa wasn’t hearing it. I’ve never seen her this nervous about something before, which is saying a lot, considering everything we’ve been through. And I get it. I’m nervous too. I’m not letting her know that, but I am. I’ve been worrie
d about this for two fucking days, ever since Tessa came to my precinct and told me about this girl.

  I couldn’t believe it. There’s a part of me that still can’t. I’ve been on board with adopting a kid from the beginning, but I didn’t think it would be happening this fast.

  I thought I’d have some time to prepare. Nine months at least. We could be getting a baby in a month.

  One month. Holy fuck.

  Short notice aside, the second this became a possibility, I wanted it. I want this girl to pick us. Do I think she’s going to base her decision on this dinner tonight? No, but my ass was outside power-washing the side of the house yesterday, just in case.

  So yeah, I get it. I don’t argue with Tessa or intervene when she insists on scrubbing out a bathtub I’m certain won’t be looked at, or right now, when she’s absolutely doing more than she needs to. What’s the point?

  She wouldn’t believe me if I told her all of this wasn’t necessary. I’m not sure I’d believe it either.

  I step up behind her, wrap my arms around Tessa’s middle, and bend down, kissing her shoulder. Her cheek. “Hey.”

  She keeps stirring one pot and reaches back with her other hand, gripping my ass through my shorts. “Hey.”

  “You need help with anything?”

  Tessa shakes her head. “Everything is pretty much ready.”

  “Smells good.” I kiss down the side of her neck, breathing her in. “The food. You.” I roll her skin between my teeth.

  She shivers and softly moans, grinding back against me. “I wish we had time for another round. I could use a distraction.”

  Another round.

  My hot as fuck wife stripped the second I walked through the door earlier and rode me, hard and fast in the middle of the living room floor. She smiled and sighed after she came, gave me a ‘thanks for the quick fuck’ wink, and dressed on her way back into the kitchen.

  I laid there for a few minutes afterward, thinking about how fucking awesome my life is.

  Tessa releases the spoon she’s holding, cuts the heat off on all the burners, and drops her head back against my chest. She pulls in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “I’m nervous, Luke.”

  “I know.”