by Ivy M. Jones
"And I swear to you, again, it's not a big deal," Justin promised, holding his hand out for the marker and then sending me a glance to ask me what I wanted done with my dishes.
"Oh, uh... Can I take them with me? I'm sure you have your own, but..."
"Andy, for the hundredth time, you can take it all with you. This is going to be your place too. I want you to have your stuff there. In fact, let's just ignore that we wrote Charity on half these boxes." He capped the marker and tossed it away. "We'll take everything. I don't want you upset anymore, trying to decide what to take and what to donate."
I shook my head, a small smile finally curving my lips. "No," I said softly. "I don't have any real attachment to any of this stuff. It's just stuff. I just... I can't seem to process everything that's happened in the last twenty-four hours, let alone the last week. And you've been so wonderful about all this... I can't- I c-can't..." I felt the tears welling up again and resolved not to cry when I saw a frown crease Justin's brow.
I could do this. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Okay.
"I'm good now."
"No baby- you're amazing."
I think I swooned a little, then I realized how cheesy what he'd said really was. I tried not to laugh, but before I knew it, the sound bubbled out of me and I had to cover my mouth with my hands.
"Are you laughing at me?" he asked. I shook my head, but he gave me an incredulous look. "You are! You're laughing at me. Thank fuck!"
"What?" I laughed.
"Baby, it's been too long since I heard you laugh. This is fucking awesome."
I laughed again at the expression on his face, like I'd just given him a puppy for Christmas.
And it hit me.
He was going to marry me. He'd be giving my baby a family. He lived to make me laugh.
Oh, fuck. I was totally in love with Justin Moreland.
It would have been nice if he loved me...
It couldn't have been easy to find movers who could empty my apartment that same day, and a Sunday to boot, but we lived in New York City and Justin was loaded, so I shouldn't have been surprised that Justin did. The movers came less than an hour after I'd taped up the last box. They had the whole apartment packed into a truck and were driving toward the drop-off for Goodwill less than two hours later. Three quarters of the truck was emptied there and the last remaining quarter followed me to Justin's where the movers simply hauled everything up in the service elevator, one trip at a time.
At the last minute, I had changed the labels on several boxes, adding to the charity pile without Justin knowing. I was trying to be pragmatic, knowing that my thrift-store non-matching dishware set would never be unpacked in Justin's ritzy apartment anyway. Why not give it to someone who could use it?
Another box of linens and one of kitchenware were also cut from the team, though I still held on to the rocking recliner I'd purchased as the first piece of furniture for my apartment. It had sentimental value, but I also argued to myself that it would be nice to have once the baby was born since Justin didn't appear to have a rocking chair.
I watched Justin bend down to read the label on a box the movers had just dropped, then bent down to pick it up and wander away with it. I watched the muscles in his arms strain a little with the weight and my brain began to swim in hormones. I'd read that this could happen- women became especially lascivious during pregnancy. But this was like horniness on crack. I'd had an orgasm only hours earlier in the shower and still I was eyeing Justin like a quarter-pounder and fries.
That sounded good too.
For the first time in my life, I had to decide which I was hungrier for: food or sex.
"Justin," I asked, as he returned to the living room, his arms now free of the box.
"Yeah?"
"Can we order up a burger and fries? I'm suddenly starving."
"No problem." He pulled out his phone and dialed the delivery place where I'd gotten breakfast before, adding in his own order before flipping it shut again.
"Twenty minutes-" I slammed into him before he could finish his sentence, sealing my lips to his neck, licking hungrily up the tendon there until I was nibbling on his earlobe.
"You gonna eat me before the food gets here?" He laughed huskily, his hands settling over my hips, gripping me tightly.
"Maybe. This is supposed to be normal though, always wanting sex while pregnant," I explained to him.
"I'd better not let you get too far from my side then," he whispered against my cheek. "I'm the only one who's going to be helping you out with that problem from here on out."
The finality of his statement cut through the haze of lust clouding my mind, and all I could do was blink at him.
"You're serious about this whole "till death do us part" thing," I managed to get out, baffled. "Aren't you."
"Andy, if we get married-" he stopped, cutting off the thought, then rephrasing. "When we get married, I'm it for you, and you're it for me." His hands moved over my back, pulling me close enough to tuck me under his arm, flush against his body.
"So you'll promise to honor and cherish me 'till death do us part? Forsaking all others and all that other shit that they'll make us recite?" I tried to sound flippant but I know I did a crap job of it.
"Initially, I was thinking a Justice of the Peace, so... You know, no promising anything other than that we'll be married."
I cringed slightly at the way he seemed to be dismissing my concern, but he continued. "After the baby's a little older, then we'll do it right, with the whole wedding and honeymoon and swearing to love, honor and cherish. And I'll even let you pass on the whole "obey" part," he chuckled.
I mentally noted that he'd included the L-word in his future vows and I shivered at the implication. Stupid hormones. I was getting a warm-honey feeling slinking its way through my whole body. He was making it really hard to concentrate on not falling in love with him.
Aw, hell. I gave up.
"We have about fifteen minutes left before the food gets here, right?" I asked, moving my hands to the button on his fly.
His mouth was on mine and so he just nodded, lifting me, carrying me to the sofa, and then using those fifteen minutes in the very best possible way.
Andy
"Did you want to get that rocking chair we saw?" Justin pointed back at the overly expensive, wholly unnecessary gliding rocker in the corner.
I shook my head and sighed. It wasn't the first time he'd tried to get me to buy extra stuff for the baby on this trip. And since we weren't out the door yet, I was sure it wouldn't be the last.
We'd spent hours in the store, a trendy, upscale baby outfitter which, as far as I could tell, sold the same gear as the local Babies R Us, but for three or four times the price. I'd tried – and failed – to get Justin to turn in at the parking lot for Babies R Us, but he'd gotten this idea that the baby needed the best. Apparently, the best would cost us four times more, but come in a nearly identical box.
I was learning to pick my battles, however.
Once inside the store, I'd had plenty to choose from. Justin wanted the very best- and one of everything. I explained that babies really needed very little at first and won the battle over getting a crib, bassinet, portable playpen, and co-sleeper. Justin agreed to skip the co-sleeper and bassinet.
After that, it was more of the same for toys, clothes, bottles, pacifiers, health care products, and so on, until we were ready to leave. Though, even as we were ready to walk out the doors, he was trying to encourage me to give in on the rocking chair.
I pulled out the last weapon I had.
"I need you to take me home now, rockstar. I've been wanting you naked and on top of me since we left the apartment. Don't you dare make me wait any longer."
He swung me around, planted his lips on mine and too quickly, I really did. I wanted him. Wanted to eat him up in the entryway of the baby store. His hands crept down to my ass, wrapping around to grip me and hoist me forward to rub against his length.
I let out a little moan of need and Justin reluctantly pulled back to stare into my eyes.
"I know exactly what you're doing, pussycat. But it's working. I'm taking you home."
Grabbing my hand in one of his, he hauled me through the doors and into the bright light of the afternoon. The light flashed in my face, making me put my hand up to cover my face. Then it flashed again.
And again.
"Shit," Justin growled.
I opened my eyes to see a row of people standing a few feet away, cameras against their faces, clicking away as they hollered at us.
"Is that your new girlfriend, Justin?"
"What are you doing in a baby store, Moreland?"
"Are you having Justin Moreland's baby?"
"What's your name?"
Justin was pulling me back into the store before I could process all the questions.
"Shit, pussycat, I'm sorry," he said, helping me sit down in the rocking chair we'd debated earlier. "Let me call Will. Hang here a sec."
He pulled his phone out to let his manager know what was going on. All I could do was sit there, stunned and quiet. After the show at The Tap, they'd snapped some lame shots that included Justin watching me laugh with Nicki, but all the text had been vague, simply saying that Dark Fire had put on an unscheduled show.
They hadn't even talked to us except to thank Griffin for giving them that muscle-shot. How could they ask those questions? What business was it of theirs who I was? For all they knew, I was just a friend who needed a baby shower gift.
I knew how stupid that sounded the minute I thought it. And on the back of that realization was another one.
My father was going to read all about this tomorrow. He had likely seen the shots from The Tap, which might have been why he'd shown up at my door.
I started to cry and Justin was in front of me, pulling me into his arms and trying to calm me.
"Will's out of the office on an emergency, but his assistant is sending a car. It’ll be here soon. I'm so sorry that happened. Will's assistant wants to talk to us when we get home. Are you going to be okay?"
My head was beginning to feel light and spacey, like I might pass out again, but I nodded, hoping I'd make it back to the apartment alright. I took deep breaths in through my nose and out my mouth and planted my head between my legs.
"Is there anything I can help you with, Mr. Moreland?" the store manager asked, spotting us. He'd been super helpful, answering all of our questions when we'd been shopping, but I was sure he thought we'd left.
"Paparazzi," Justin explained. "My manager's sending a car... Can we hang here a bit until then?"
"Of course. Perhaps you'd like to wait in the mother's lounge upstairs? I can have someone find you when your ride is here," the man offered.
I wanted to kiss him... As soon as the world stopped spinning.
With both men's help, I was able to get up the escalator and into the private mother's lounge, complete with separate rooms for mothers to breast-feed and change diapers. The manager let us into our own room complete with a rocking glider like the one downstairs, a changing table, and small refrigerator with bottles of water and orange juice and protein shakes.
I had to admit... I didn't think the super-store could top that.
"What will they print?" I asked, sipping the orange juice Justin had thrust into my shaky hands.
He shrugged. "Could be anything. Depends on who they were with. The crazies might go with you having my alien love-child. The classier ones might just mention that I was out with some new chick and talk about how long they think it will last."
I dropped my head back against the rocking chair back and let out a deep breath. "My father might see it."
"So? We are planning on getting married, Andy. He'd find out about that sooner or later, too. We could never keep that under wraps. And he already knows about the baby."
"I don't want my fucked up family to touch you, Justin."
"And that's why I have William Martin... Or, apparently, Juliana today," he whispered, his hand making slow circles on my lower back. "They keep the really fucked up folks away from me for the most part."
"For the most part?" I didn't like the sound of that. Statistically, 'for the most part' could have meant between something like 75 to 99 percent of the time. Did I really want to deal with the quarter of the fucked up ones who got through?
"I had a girl pull a Garth-Brooks-Crazy-Fan on me once. Pretty much the worst it's ever been. Never had to deal with my fiancée's crazy CEO dad before. Though that’s probably because I've never had a fiancée before."
I had tried to follow everything he'd said, but really, I was so tired, and the lulling motion of the rocking chair and his hand on my lower back were making it hard to keep my eyes open. "Garth Brooks? The country singer?"
"He had a fan get into his house, put on some of his clothes, and he found her waiting for him in his bed. He had to call the police. Similar thing happened to me," he explained.
I vaguely noted how his voice was almost too quiet to hear, and almost said something about it, but it was getting too hard to remember what I wanted to say to him...
"Found a girl in your bed?" I managed to ask.
"In nothing but my underwear. She got into my hotel room in London."
"Betcha didn't call the police..." My head tipped to the side and I was somehow resting on the most comfortable pillow I'd ever felt. It was warm, smelled so good... No lumpy parts, just so warm...
I could hear people talking now, the sounds fading in and out as I tried to break back into awareness. My warm pillow was still behind me, along with a warm, solid arm wrapped just under my breasts, holding me as though I were too precious to let go, even for a moment.
"...Can spin this to our advantage, Justin. You just have to let her do her job."
"Not if it's going to hurt Andy," my pillow said.
A female voice.: "I understand you want to protect your girlfriend-"
My pillow cut her off. "Fiancée."
There was a collective noise, like a bunch of people gasping in surprise.
"You sure about this, Jus? She seems alright... A little territorial about her food, but nice enough. But hell man, you barely know her." I recognized Griffin's voice.
"Doesn't really matter how long I've known her," my pillow explained. "I fell for her after about ten seconds. Beyond that? It's all been a bonus."
"Love at first sight, man? That's almost too cheesy for lyrics." Zach's voice was easy enough to pick out. I would punch him in the throat for that bullshit later, once I was completely awake.
There was quiet, and then, "I don't want to hear shit from you about love, Moore. You've been lying about that girl back home for years. You want me to start taking you seriously? Go find your Night of Dreams girl and make it right. Until then, you don't get to talk to me about being in love."
I blinked my eyes open when I realized what he'd said. "You love me?" I whispered, rolling over so that I could stare into his eyes.
"God yes, pussycat. I'm head over heels for you." His words were quiet, said only to me.
"You never said anything. Just told me you wanted to marry me," I whispered.
"That was fucking stupid of me," he whispered, continuing our own private conversation. "I should have told you as soon as I realized it. And as often as possible since then. I should have been telling everyone." He cleared his throat and broke eye contact with me. In a much louder voice, he told someone over my shoulder. "I need to get before a JP as soon as possible. Andy said she'd marry me, and I'm not about to let the love of my life get away. I love her. Spin that, Miss Rhodes."
I watched Justin's eyes move around the room in the silence and I realized that while I'd been enjoying our little private conversation and seeing only Justin, in reality, the room was full of people. I tilted my head slightly and glimpsed each member of the band, and some woman I didn't recognize.
The unknown woman had her dark brown hair up in a twist. Her mak
eup was subdued and her jewelry understated. She had on a black, skirted business suit, but her professional demeanor was completely undone when I saw her shoes. High, stiletto-style pumps in a color halfway between pink and red. I would have killed myself on shoes like that, but this woman wore those platforms of death, one ankle crossed over the other, as if they were as simple to wear as slippers. Her gaze roved over me, before she looked at me like she had never seen my species before.
"You love him?" she asked, her fingers playing with the charm on her necklace.
"Yes. Oh! But only for his money," I added, waiting to see what she'd say. "If he ends up one of those class-reunion-memorial-band jackasses, I'm outta here. I'm only in this for the fancy dishware."
I felt everyone in the room take a shocked breath. Then Justin let out a hysterical laugh and we both proceeded to laugh so hard we nearly rolled off the couch. When we'd finished laughing so hard we were crying, I looked up at the open-mouthed astonishment of those around us and realized that Justin and I were the only ones in on our joke.
"I'm fucking with you all," I murmured, dropping my face into Justin's chest.
There was quiet again and then finally I heard Cy finally say, "Well shit, Justin. She has your sense of humor. I guess you better keep her. No one else understands your fucked-up brand of comedy. Put a ring on it, stat."
There was laughter and the conversation continued, but I kept my head buried in Justin's chest for the next hour, only turning my face enough to be introduced to the woman with the crazy pink-red heels. Cy introduced her as Juliana Rhodes, William Martin's assistant, who Will happened to be grooming as an agent so that she could help him in emergencies- like now. Will's wife had suffered a stroke, Juliana had explained. She was filling in for her boss until he could get away from the hospital.
Every guy in the band had been adamant: Will Martin was not to leave his wife's side until she was home safe. Juliana promised to relay the message as soon as possible.
"I can spin this better if I know how you guys ended up together," Juliana said, cutting to the chase.