by Vivien Vale
Either that, or she likes bearing everything and is comfortable showing ample amounts of skin—unlike me.
“Are you sure this is the right kind of attire to be wearing to meet your family members for the first time?” I ask Carter with a protesting glance.
He nods and grabs my butt, squeezing it tightly in his hand with his typical assertiveness.
“Yes,” he whispers, and buries a kiss into my neck.
I playfully push him away.
“If your goal is to distract me mister, it’s not working.”
Carter half-pouts for a moment, then breaks out into a grin.
“You are a bad liar, you know.”
I throw my hands up with playful mock-exasperation. “How do you always get your way?”
“Easy.” He grins smugly. “I’m dashingly handsome.”
“Okay.” I roll my eyes. “I guess you’ve got me there.”
Apparently, he’s also always right.
Carter takes my hand, and that’s enough for me to instantly feel safe and protected again.
“Trust me,” he says. “They’re all going to absolutely adore you.”
As we approach the mansion, I glance up to take it in. Carter’s father’s home is monstrously huge. With its location just outside the city, I can’t even imagine how much it’s worth.
“It’s bigger than the mall in the town I grew up in!” I exclaim with a laugh.
“There’s a kiosk inside with a map that shows you how to get to each room,” Carter states with nonchalance.
I stare at him, dumbfounded. “Are you serious?” My voice comes out like a high-pitched squeak.
Carter erupts into a fit of wild laughter, slapping his knee.
“No, of course I’m not serious, you silly girl.”
Carter slides his hand around my waist and pulls me closer to the door. Each step I take feels like a nail in my future coffin of humiliation, but I try to take slow, even breaths in an attempt to ward off a panic attack that’s brewing in the depths of my mind.
I pretend that I’m wearing a normal dress that actually fits me—instead of this piece of cloth masquerading as a garment. Not only is this dress too small for me, it would probably be too small for a Barbie doll.
As we arrive at the front door after what feels like an interminable, slow motion waltz, Carter pauses and grins—maybe out of warm affection, maybe out of amusement at my nervousness. There’s no time to worry about what Carter’s smile means, though, as I’m busy trying to gather an internal boost of confidence.
“Are you ready for this, darling?” Carter continues to smile.
“Are you sure we can’t just go to dinner somewhere else?” I laugh, even at my own feeble attempt at a joke in this nerve-wracking moment.
“You are going to knock ‘em out of the park with your charisma and charm,” he says.
“I think you are confusing me with yourself.” I scoff.
Carter opens the door and places his hand on the small of my back, coaxing me inside no matter how reluctant and hesitant my stride becomes, going through the door.
It’s not that I’m not excited to meet his family, because I am. It’s just…well…I wish I could be wearing something that doesn’t paint an invisible tramp stamp over me.
“The life of the party has arrived, you can all bow down now,” Carter roars through the house with a smirk on his face.
A heat of embarrassment flushes my face, and I grip Carter’s hand so tightly I’m certain I might fracture a few of his bones. Luckily, he doesn’t even flinch.
At any rate, he’s my lifeline, so I can’t collapse on top of myself like a heap of crumpled clothes.
A guy who looks shockingly like Carter traipses confidently into the room with an overzealous grin on his face.
I recognize Lawrence from seeing him in the office the day before. He’s also a walking carbon copy of Carter, so it’s not too difficult to guess.
While their personalities are quite different, they’re so physically similar that anybody who can see would peg them as brothers.
“Hey, brother.” After Lawrence’s greeting, he and Carter reel each other in for a bro handshake and a slap on the back. “I see you brought dessert.”
I shift my weight uncomfortably. Lawrence is clearly undressing me with his eyes. He’s practically drooling before Carter interrupts his fantasy.
“Come on, dude, have some class.” Carter lectures with a condescending roll of his eyes. It doesn’t faze his arrogant brother in the slightest.
“I hear voices in the foyer.” A male voice bellows from another room.
I look up to find an exact replica of the twins, only older.
Mike Abraham struts into the room like he owns the place. Well, to be fair, he does. Metaphorically and literally speaking.
He has the same cool blue eyes and straight, dark hair. His lips are curling in a mischievous grin that I recognize all too well from looking at Carter.
“Hey, dad.” Carter leans in and gives his trusty ole’ dad a solid fist bump. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Who do we have here?” Mr. Abraham glances at me with enthusiasm and a sparkle in his eyes.
Carter faces me and gestures. “Dad, this is June Johnson.”
“It’s so lovely to meet you, Mr. Abraham.” I extend a hand to shake with Carter’s dad.
“Please, call me Mike.” He has a whimsical smirk on his face.
“Mike…” I whisper and trail off with a nod and a smile.
“Well, what the hell are we still doing in here? Let’s eat!” Mike claps his hands together and beckons us to follow him into the living room.
Carter instructs me to take a seat beside him at the end of the table. Lawrence sits on the opposite side.
I’m beside Carter while his father sits at the head of the table. Beside me, on the right, is one of Mike’s many children. He has the confidence that seems to run in the family—as well as a shock of curly brown hair that sits like an unruly mop on his head.
“Dexter.” He introduces himself to me with just his name before addressing the entire table. “Take a look at that loaf of bread. It looks just like a ball sack!”
Well, that’s an obnoxious way to start dinner.
People chuckle out of the graciousness of their personalities, but inside, I’m just repulsed by this weirdo.
“Don’t listen to him,” a round-bellied pregnant girl tells me from the other side of the table. She has auburn-colored hair and a warm smile.
The pregnant woman cuts into her steak with enthusiasm.
“I’m eating for two,” she says and pops a piece of meat into her mouth.
“That’s Dexter’s wife, Anne,” Carter explains and gestures to her.
Anne bows her head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You as well,” I say shyly.
“Anyway,” she goes on after swallowing her mouthful, “you’ll have to forgive my husband Dexter. He’s a bit…” She trails off and looks up at the ceiling while pondering how to describe him. “…stunted when it comes to people. Communicationally challenged.”
This makes me laugh. She seems genuine and fun, and her humor appeals to me.
“It’s fine, really.”
“I’m used to getting insults from the wife.” Dexter points his knife playfully in Anne’s direction and rolls his eyes as if he just has to live with the torment.
“Oh, stop it.” Anne’s holding her own.
“You’ll know what that’s like soon enough to have an ole’ ball and chain, eh, Carter?”
Lawrence nudges his twin in the side, and I can’t help but notice how Carter’s jaw flinches at the dig from his brother.
It’s not like Carter and I are professing our love for one another or announcing an engagement or something.
Luckily, I can hold my own against pompous assholes like Lawrence any day.
“I’m sure when Carter’s ready, he’ll make a great husband,” I fire back.
Lawrence’s eyes narrow in on me, but he doesn’t retort. I smugly glance back at Anne, my new friend. I’m ready to change the subject.
“So, when are you due?”
“Three weeks.” Anne rubs her belly affectionately with a dreamy expression on her face.
“Anne has the body type to look really good while pregnant—unlike some people,” Lawrence blurts out from the peanut gallery, offering unwanted commentary yet again.
Then, he dares to take it a step forward. “She also knows what clothes to wear that will actually fit her.”
He laughs at his own appalling, unfunny joke. I don’t appreciate the snide remarks, and neither does Carter.
“Well, if you’ve got it, flaunt it, is all I can say.” I give Lawrence a look that dares him to fire back another round.
No, this is not exactly the outfit I would have chosen for myself, but when life gives you lemons...
Carter and I high five secretly under the table. I bet nobody ever stands up to Lawrence, not until tonight.
“I personally think you both look stunning. Two lovely ladies, indeed. To new women and new babies.” Mike raises his glass for a toast.
“I’ll drink to that,” I quip with a smile.
Anne holds up a glass of water. “I’ll just drink my water.”
Everyone roars with laughter at Anne’s pregnancy joke.
“I think that will suit you just fine,” I tell her.
I glance over at Mike, who he gives me a wink and an approving nod. It looks like I’m a hit with him, which is what really matters tonight.
After dinner, just as we’re walking out the door, Carter stops me on the way back to his car.
“Hey,” he says, pulling me close, “you were amazing tonight.”
“You really think so?” I beam with pride.
“Are you kidding? My father absolutely loved you.”
“He’s not so bad, either,” I mention. “Anne seems really sweet, too.”
Carter’s expression carries more than a hint of lust.
“Not as sweet as you. You’re the red Starburst among all the other orange ones.”
“Wow,” I laugh. “Now that’s a compliment.”
“Come here, you sexy little thing.” Carter grabs my ass and presses his lips to mine, embracing me in a passion-filled kiss. “Thank you,” he finally says after we come up for air.
“For what?” I ask with confusion.
“For being amazing, witty, and smart. That was one of the best family dinners I’ve ever had.”
Chapter 17
Carter
If these latest expense reports could hold my attention half as well as June does, I’d have them done already.
Truth be told, right now I’d much rather be doing June.
I’d never had a secretary as decorative as her before, mostly by design—the way her hips flare out beneath her pencil skirt when she bends over to highlight a discrepancy, the way her hair falls over her shoulders like waves of chocolate.
I can’t stop fucking staring at her, and I can’t even complain about it. If my office was over the Grand Canyon, I’d want to gaze upon its majesty, too.
Fuck work. Figures and numbers are pretty fucking meaningless in comparison. The only figure I’m concerned with right now is that of my bride.
Suddenly, she looks up and catches my stare. It makes my heart fucking stop—and the way she smiles after makes me think she knows it.
What she doesn’t know is that I’m fantasizing as I stare. Not just about bending her over that desk and making her moan into the intercom…but also about the way that cute little skirt of hers is going to start filling out once we know for sure she’s carrying my child.
She’s beautiful now, but add in that baby bump, and she’s going to be fucking glowing. Good thing I no longer have to restrain myself, because she’s mine. I’m gonna have her everywhere and anytime I want to, even on the—
The fantasy comes to an abrupt end as the devil himself bursts into my office.
“Christ, I’m up to my ears in child support payments! I can’t take it anymore…there’s just too many of them,” my father’s currently on his monthly rant about paying all the baby mamas he’s knocked up.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve looked up to my dad. When I was younger, he was the very picture of success—he had more money than he knew what to do with and his choice of pussy every night, with no fucks to give about knocking his conquests up…I mean, what more could a man want?
Boy, was I fucking naïve.
I now know the answer to that question, and I’m sure at one point in time, my dad did, too.
He truly loved my mom. Everyone who ever knew both of them as a couple said as much. It took a real toll on him when she passed away during my and Lawrence’s birth.
Since then, he’s been a real man-whore, bringing true glory to the name Abraham Fertility Inc. He’s the very face of the company, sowing his seed every-fucking-where. Lawrence and I were quick to follow in his shoes as playboys extraordinaire.
My eyes skirt over to June, sitting at her desk, typing away. The look of concentration on her face is sexy as hell. The green blouse she’s wearing compliments her eyes and skin tone. She looks like a fucking goddess. Doesn’t hurt that it hugs her curves in all the right places, too!
“Maybe you should’ve kept your dick in your pants then, or at the very least worn a condom,” I shrug.
“Pussy is much better without those lousy rubber sacks. It ain’t the money, it’s that there’s too many fucking kids to keep track! I had Vicky calling me two days ago, and Francesca and Marlene today, the phone calls never end!” He throws up his hands in resignation.
“Should I have June create you a spreadsheet?” I’m only half joking. She’d do it if I asked, but the utter reality would be pretty fucking shocking to her.
“Har, har, har. Laugh it up, son…” He drops a file on my desk and leaves as quickly as he had come.
I have no sympathy for the man. You’d think he would’ve learned after the first of my brothers and sisters were born. But no. They just kept popping up out of nowhere.
Seriously, every time I turn around, I’m hearing about a new baby on the way. I swear, he could fucking wink a woman pregnant at this point.
I know all too well how easy it is to knock someone up. But unlike my old man, I took that one painful experience and turned it into a valuable lesson.
My eyes flick over to June again. Looking at her, it’s crystal clear that I’m not the same.
All my father and I share is that super sperm that we could probably bottle and make millions out of. I can just see the tagline now: Delivering Dreams Around the World.
For once in my life, I can lay eyes on a beautiful woman and know that I have a good future waiting. She’s unlike any other I’ve met and any other I will meet. I know that for fucking sure.
I knew it the first day we met.
Yes, there’s a contract involved, but I can feel that it’s more than that. It feels so good, and so right to fuck her. She gives good head, too.
She’s every man’s dream, and she’s mine.
She flips her hair over her shoulder as she reaches for the filing cabinet right outside my office. Our eyes connect again, and the smile she shows me is so damn dazzling, I can feel my cock pressing against my trousers.
She’s driving me fucking crazy, and she knows it. As she bends over, I get a clear line of sight of her perky tits.
That fantasy about bending her over my desk is about to become reality if she keeps this up. I don’t give a fuck if it’s the middle of the morning. It’s about time for a snack anyway.
I can’t wait to find out if she’s pregnant, for her to show me the pregnancy test. The anticipation is wrecking me, and I can’t seem to think about anything else. It normally takes about two weeks to find out, and I can tell you right now: it’s going to be the most agonizing two weeks of my life.
I might just have
to find ways to keep my mind occupied. Like June naked on my lap, riding me like a cowgirl. Yeehaw.
Chapter 18
June
The copy machine whirs, printing and stacking paper lightning fast. The Wheatfield Public Library never had anything even half this fast. Heck, this copier makes the Wheatfield Public Library’s technology look completely stone aged by comparison.
It figures. Even the copy machines work faster here in the city. The days go by quicker too, and the relationships…
It’s safe to say that I’m feeling closer to Carter Abraham right now than I ever felt to Kody. And that’s saying something—since Kody and I started dating back when I barely even understood what a boyfriend was.
Maybe it is just this city. Everyone’s lives move so quickly here, the heart finds ways to keep up.
Or maybe it’s just Carter. Call me a hopeless romantic, but whatever’s brewing between us, it’s the stuff of my most embarrassing fantasies.
Not even just the sexy kind, either.
Sure, those are being met and exceeded, but there’s so much more.
Like the sappy, gooey things that I imagined before everything with Kody, before the heartache and the betrayal.
I’ll admit, after what that man put me through, I didn’t have it in me to continue believing in love.
I had put “true love” into a mental filing cabinet with things like Santa and the tooth fairy. It was just one more made-up story that whimsical old women tell and nothing more. I had decided that I had absolutely no use for it.
I guess life has different plans.
I feel the smile crawl across my face at the mere thought of him, and I don’t even try to hide it. I’m too far gone for denial.
I hear the door open and turn to find the man himself.
“Hey!” I say, smiling broadly now that he’s actually in front of me. “I was just thinking about you.”
He smiles back, a strange, wide smile that I’ve never seen on his face before. It’s almost pained, not reaching his eyes. His forehead is creased.
I open my mouth to ask if anything’s wrong when he stumbles, smacking hard into the nearest filing cabinet before he can right himself.