Baking and Babies

Home > Romance > Baking and Babies > Page 12
Baking and Babies Page 12

by Tara Sivec


  “Sucking up to me will get you nowhere,” she deadpans.

  Or not.

  “It’s okay if my family was a bit too much for you,” she continues, without giving me a chance to say anything. “I get it. Not everyone can handle their unique brand of hazing someone new. If you want out, just be honest with me. I’ll tell them you changed your mind or something. Ava is pretty good with computers, I’m sure she can make sure your home address isn’t easily accessible anywhere on the internet until everything blows over.”

  Shit, Rosa was right with all that advice she gave me before I passed out. By staying away from her in the hopes that the image of me hurling in her parent’s shrubs would disappear from her mind, all I did by avoiding her was make her second-guess me. I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear the home address thing. Knowing the men in her family would hunt me down and shank me like a thug in the prison yard if they thought I left a pregnant Molly all alone is enough to give me nightmares.

  I step right up in front of her until our toes are touching, hoping she notices I smell like Cool Water cologne instead of Cold Water and Piss.

  She has a dusting of flour on her right cheek that my hands have been itching to brush off ever since I first walked into that office a few minutes ago. I silently bring my hand up to the side of her face and graze the tips of my fingers against her skin. I keep touching her long after the flour is gone because she feels like velvet—warm and soft and smooth.

  “They weren’t too much for me, I promise,” I insist quietly as she lifts her chin and searches my eyes to see if I’m telling the truth.

  “I’ll admit, the thirty-eighth hot dog was too much, and I should have tapped out somewhere around thirty-four, but I haven’t changed my mind and I’m sorry for being a dick the last few days,” I apologize.

  “You don’t have to say you’re sorry,” she says with a shake of her head. “I’m the one who’s sorry for bringing you into this mess. I know it’s crazy, and you probably think I’m the biggest idiot in the entire world for faking a pregnancy for my sister…”

  Her voice tapers off and she sighs heavily, looking away from me to stare out towards the street.

  “I’ve spent my whole life feeling like an outsider with my entire family, but mostly with my two sisters,” she explains softly. “Growing up, they were always boy-crazy and fashion-crazy and just plain fucking crazy, and I couldn’t relate to them. The only thing I’ve ever been crazy about is baking. Until now. Now, we have something in common and something to talk about and I actually like it. It’s girly and it’s dumb and I’m sure they’re going to want to get pedicures and do my hair and watch reality TV together now, but I don’t care.”

  Molly laughs softly before turning her face back to mine, and I can tell by the way she had to force the laugh out that she hates sharing her feelings and acting, like she said, girly.

  “Can you be a little more specific on the thing you guys have in common now?” I ask with a raise of my eyebrow.

  Her cheeks flush in embarrassment and that gives me my answer, but I still want to hear her say it.

  “It’s the fashion-crazy thing, isn’t it?” I tease. “I bet you’re going to start demanding everyone in the kitchen at work has to wear designer chef jackets. You’re such a fashion whore.”

  She smacks my chest and laughs.

  “You know that’s not the crazy I’m talking about and if you make me say it, I will help my mother turn your balls into cream puffs,” she warns.

  “As long as you like to eat cream puffs, I’m okay with my balls being cream puffs,” I tell her with a wink and a smirk. “Come on, just say it. There’s no shame in admitting you’re boy-crazy. But you should probably amend it to man-crazy because, I mean, look at me.”

  I put my hands on my hips, puff out my chest and give her my best smoldering look.

  “What are you doing with your eyes?” she questions.

  I try harder, narrowing my eyes and imagining I’m that Ian Somerhalder guy from Vampire Diaries. He has a good smolder. I mean, from what I’ve heard. From people who actually watch that dumb show because I clearly never would, especially since he had to go and get married and now Team Delena is dead forever.

  “I’m smoldering you. It’s totally working,” I murmur.

  “It looks like you have one of those eye-twitch things happening.”

  Dammit, Ian. You ruin everything.

  I relax, softening my face and placing my hands on her shoulders.

  “I get why you’re doing this and you’re right, it’s completely insane, but I get it.” I knead her shoulders gently. “Doing something like this makes you feel close to your sisters for the first time in your life and you want to hold onto that. I think that makes you brave and amazing, not stupid or crazy.”

  Silence stretches between us as we stand on the sidewalk staring at each other. I can smell her cinnamon apple skin and there’s a glossy sheen on her lips that makes me wonder if she’s wearing lip gloss and if it will taste as good as she smells. My dick takes a time-out from the gutter party to rise up and toast me, threatening to bust right through the zipper of my jeans when Molly licks those damn shiny lips.

  I want to kiss her more than I want to breathe, but I don’t want to do it in front of her place of work while employees come and go all around us. I want to be alone, in a quiet place where maybe I can fake an illness and the kiss can lead to her showing me how to cure nausea by putting her hand down my pants.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call or make plans to see you that last few days,” I apologize again. “I was a little embarrassed that the first day we spent together ended with me regurgitating hotdogs.”

  She laughs and rolls her eyes at me, something that has suddenly become one of my favorite things to see.

  “I accept your apology, but you owe me,” she threatens, jabbing her finger into my chest. “I had to get my fake pregnancy confirmed at the doctor.”

  My eyes widen in shock, wondering how in the hell she pulled that off.

  “So I’m guessing somewhere in town there’s a roofied doctor waking up with a really bad headache?” I ask with a laugh.

  “I wish. Luckily, they confirmed the pregnancy with pee. I had to carry a cup of Charlotte’s pee.” She scrunches her cute little nose up in disgust, her body shuddering under my hands that are still resting on her shoulders.

  She waves her arm in the air and changes the subject.

  “If you see me wash my right hand until the skin starts falling off, don’t ask any questions,” she informs me.

  I try not to let it bother me that she takes a step back so I have no choice but to let my hands drop from her shoulders. One of these days I’m going to get this girl to let me touch her and not freak out about it.

  “Enough of this mushy crap. Let’s move on to Humpy and why your penis likes to wear green dresses,” she says with a smirk. “I really don’t know if green is a good color for you.”

  Remind me to never get drunk with Rosa again. Even if she did give me good advice before I passed out in a puddle of my own drool on our mother’s linoleum.

  “My sister sent those texts, not me. She pumped me full of wine and then stole my phone. Like I’d really name my penis Humpy,” I scoff.

  His name is Thor, obviously. He’s strong and slams it like a hammer. BOOM!

  “I’ll explain the whole green dress banana thing in the car,” I promise, glancing down at my watch. “Right now, we have somewhere to be.”

  Molly looks at me questioningly as I push her aside and open the passenger door to the van, holding it open for her.

  “Get in, don’t ask any questions, and don’t give me that look for holding your door open like a decent gentleman,” I warn her. “It’s a surprise.”

  I’m not kidding when I said Rosa gave me some good instructions, after she punched me repeatedly in the arm for staying away from Molly. She called me every curse word she could think of before she told me I was an idiot for b
eing introduced as the baby daddy to her family and then leaving her alone to deal with that shit by herself. It never even occurred to me that her family would probably wonder where I’d been or ask her a million questions about why I hadn’t been around, and I knew I had to do something to make up for being such an idiot.

  “I don’t like surprises,” she mutters as she gets into the passenger seat and pulls the seat belt around her.

  “Suck it up, buttercup. You’ll like this one, I promise,” I assure her before shutting the door and walking around the front of the van to get behind the wheel. After spilling my guts to Rosa and telling her everything I knew about Molly and asking her for ideas on how to make myself look like a good guy and other romantic shit I could do to win her over, Rosa pointed out something so obvious that I wanted to punch myself in the arm that I didn’t come up with it first.

  When I called a few people this morning, they were really excited about my idea and even let me make them feel guilty as shit for not doing it themselves. Listening to them kick themselves in the ass over the phone made me forgive them for the car wash ride and bag of dicks contest.

  “You’re not going to get in trouble for leaving work early, are you?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.

  “Nope, as a matter of fact, my mom sent me a text a half hour ago and told me to go home and put my feet up,” Molly explains. “My poor fake baby had a rough day.”

  As I pull out of the parking lot and onto the street, I sneak a glance at Molly as she looks away from me to stare out the window. I really hope this doesn’t turn out to be a bad idea. I’ll never be able to console Thor if he doesn’t get to meet her.

  Chapter 13

  – Shocker Honor –

  Molly

  “SURPRISE!”

  I freeze in the middle of my parent’s backyard when Marco and I round the side of the house and twenty-five people jump up from chairs and tables set up all around the yard.

  Everyone starts clapping, hooting, whistling and chanting my name. Marco squeezes my hand and I tear my eyes away from the chaos to look up at him.

  “If this is a pregnancy party or a stupid baby shower, I’m baking your balls at 500 degrees instead of the required 350,” I growl.

  He laughs, letting go of my hand to wrap his arm around my shoulder and pull me against his side. I’m in too much shock to move away from him, and he smells so delicious and his body feels so good pressed against mine that I forget about my family wondering if I’ve lost my mind by letting a guy get all grabby-hands in public.

  “No, silly girl. This is a graduation party.”

  Looking around the yard again, I see what I missed during my initial shock from the shouting and seeing the yard filled with my entire extended family. A giant Happy Graduation sign hangs between two trees, a couple dozen cardboard graduation hats hang from all the branchesfile:///F:/Books/8362015/Baking and Babies - Tara Sivec.epub and the centerpieces on all the paper-covered tables are bouquets of sugar cookies cut out and frosted to look like pastry hats, wooden spoons, whisks and other baking items.

  “You threw me a graduation party?” I whisper in awe as a few members of my family start walking across the yard towards us.

  “I felt bad that this fake pregnancy thing overshadowed the biggest accomplishment of your life. Just so you know, they all felt really horrible they forgot,” he tells me.

  It’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, and I have to bite down on my bottom lip to stop myself from crying like a baby.

  “I was starting to feel like Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles when her family forgot her birthday,” I whisper.

  “Well then, you’ll be happy to know I did not sell a pair of your panties in the boy’s bathroom,” Marco announces proudly.

  “Never, ever say the word panties again,” I warn him as my mom gets up to us and pulls me in for a hug.

  “We are the worst people ever and I’m so sorry Molly,” she apologizes, raining kisses all over both my cheeks. “You should have smacked us in the face when we forgot to ask you about finals.”

  She pulls away and holds me at arm’s length and I can see tears welling up in her eyes. Mom hates to cry in front of people just as much as I do, so I go easy on her before she starts snotting all over the place and embarrassing herself.

  “Brace yourself, Mother. I’m joining Fight Club,” I announce, making two fists and bringing them up between us.

  “I was being facetious. Don’t even think about punching me. I brought you into this world and I can—”

  “Ooooh, bad call quoting Bill Cosby,” Dad interrupts. “Unless you plan on slipping a roofie in your daughter’s drink to make it more authentic.”

  He pats Mom on the back and then moves her out of the way so he can give me his own hug. “Congratulations, baby girl. You worked your ass off, and I couldn’t be more proud.”

  Uncle Carter, Aunt Claire, Uncle Drew, and Aunt Jenny each take their turns congratulating me, giving me hugs and apologizing for being assholes.

  “It’s good to see you came back, M.O.,” Uncle Carter tells him, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “I thought for sure those hot dogs killed you, or at the very least you got a brain aneurism from the brushes at the car wash. You’re like a fucking cat!”

  Aunt Claire looks at her husband in confusion. “Because he’s selfish and licks his own ass?”

  “I meant because he has nine lives, but sure, you’re way is good too,” he tells her with a shrug.

  “Why did you call him Mo?” Aunt Jenny asks Uncle Carter.

  “Minivan Operator,” Uncle Carter replies. “You know, minivan? From Urban Dictionary.”

  Aunt Jenny smiles and nods her head in understanding. “Oh, I get it! Because you can fit four people in the front and nine people in the back!”

  Uncle Carter shakes his head. “I don’t think it means what you think it means.”

  Aunt Jenny rolls her eyes. “Yes I do. Drew and I have done the minivan and he can definitely fit nine in the back.”

  Everyone groans and Marco leans down close to my ear.

  “I’m ashamed to say I really thought you were kidding about them,” he whispers.

  “Since we’re all here, we need to discuss something important,” Mom announces as Marco moves away from my ear. “Grandpa George is on his way and he doesn’t know about the pregnancy.”

  Grandpa George is actually Aunt Claire’s father. Even though he’s not blood-related, I’ve known him all my life, and he’s always been Grandpa George to my sisters and I.

  Mom turns to Marco. “George is…how should I say this?”

  “He’s old school and even though he was pretty good about me getting pregnant in college, that was a while ago, and I don’t know how he’d take something like this in his old age,” Aunt Claire explains. “Plus, I’m pretty sure he was the one who shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.”

  Everyone nods silently in agreement.

  “So, can everyone promise they will not tell George about the pregnancy until we absolutely have to?” Mom asks.

  Everyone raises their hands and mumbles their agreement.

  “Shocker honor!” Uncle Drew shouts, holding his hand in the air with his thumb holding down his ring finger, his pointer and middle fingers pressed together, and his pinky sticking out to the side.

  “What the fuck is shocker honor?” Uncle Carter asks.

  “I was never a Boy Scout, so it would be sacrilegious to say scout’s honor,” Uncle Drew explains. “Since I’m not only a member, but also the president of Shocker Nation, this makes more sense.”

  Dad shakes his head. “It makes no sense. Shocker honor isn’t a thing and you can’t swear on it.”

  “Shocker honor is too a thing and it’s a very important thing,” Uncle Drew argues. “There is nothing more serious than two in the pink, one in the stink.”

  “He’s right, there isn’t,” Aunt Jenny adds with a serious nod. “It’s more important th
an a pinky swear.”

  Aunt Claire looks over my shoulder and waves. We all turn around to see Grandpa George and his wife Sue coming around the side of the house.

  “Another thing you guys should know, Sue had some sort of accident the other day that affected her ear drums,” Aunt Claire quickly explains. “I guess she can’t hear very well, so you might have to talk a little louder.”

  She walks around Marco and I to greet them. “Hi, Dad, thanks for coming. Can I get you something to drink, Sue?”

  “OH, NO THANK YOU! IT’S TOO HOT FOR SOUP!” Sue shouts with a smile as Aunt Claire leads them over to our group.

  Grandpa George, not one for public displays of affection, gives me an awkward one-armed side hug and hands me a card.

  “Congratulations, Molly. There’s fifty bucks in there. Don’t spend it on anything stupid,” he warns me as I take the card from his hand.

  “There goes your plans of spending your graduation money on booze and sex,” Uncle Drew laughs.

  “NO, IT’S NOT A ROLEX, BUT THANKS FOR ASKING!” Sue shouts, holding up her wrist and pointing to her gold watch.

  “Care to tell me how Sue lost her hearing since you were a little vague on the phone yesterday?” Aunt Claire asks her dad.

  “Eh, I let off a couple M-80’s in the backyard and she was standing too close,” he says with a shrug.

  “Why in the hell were you lighting M-80’s in your backyard?” Aunt Claire furrows her brow in dismay.

  “That’s the dumbest question you’ve ever asked me,” Grandpa George mutters, shaking his head. “I found them in a box in the garage. One does not just leave M-80’s in a box when they find them. Have I taught you nothing?”

  Before Aunt Claire can scold him, Gavin and Charlotte walk over to our group to say hello.

  “What’s new, Grandpa George?” Charlotte asks, kissing him on the cheek and giving Sue a quick hug.

  “PIGEON FORGE? NEVER BEEN, BUT I HEAR IT’S NICE!” Sue yells.

  Aunt Claire smacks Grandpa George on the arm when he chuckles.

 

‹ Prev