Great Sass: Providence Family Ties Series

by Mary B. Moore

  Seeing the framed photos on the wall, she walked over to look at them. I knew the images off by heart and remembered everything we were doing when they were taken.

  “Is this Cooper?” she asked gently, pointing at a photo of us at graduation.

  “Yeah, they almost didn’t let him graduate because he wasn’t wearing pants—” I paused “—at all under the robe.”

  Looking more closely, she burst out laughing. “I thought he had on shorts or something.”

  “Eventually, so did they, but he wasn’t. There’d been a vote to see where we wanted the ceremony to happen—inside or outside. Well, we all wanted the sun because we’re Floridians, so that’s where they set it up. Anyway, Coop was dared the night before after two bottles of tequila to go with nothing but this big old stallion thong on under his gown. The guidance counselor initially refused to let him get in the line-up, but he told her he had on shorts under it and offered to show her.”

  Looking over her shoulder at me, she asked, horrified, “He didn’t, did he?”

  Crossing over to stand behind her, I grinned at how happy Coop looked in the photo. “She said it was okay and to go ahead. So I’m standing there, waiting for my turn to leave my chair and get in the line for the stage, when his name’s called. He was still drunk, so he carefully walked up the stairs like he was being tested on it, crosses the stage—” I started laughing hard at the memory.

  “He— Jesus Christ. Just as he gets to the principal who’s standing with his hand out, waiting to shake Coop’s, this huge gust of wind separates the front of the robe, and out pops this cock stallion with those weird googly eyes that shake around.” I was laughing so hard by this point, I knew I was going to struggle to get the next words out.

  “So, we’re all sitting there, staring at this horse covered penis, its- its eyes rattling around, and the principal is looking at it like it was going to explode. Cooper turns to the audience, swings it back and forth, and g-goes—” I wheezed, tears streaming down my face “—Neigh, fuckers, neigh!”

  When I looked at Sadie, she was holding onto the back of the nearest chair, her face bright red because she was laughing so hard. “What did his parents do?”

  Even talking about them didn’t take away from the hilarity of the memory. I’d firmly placed them in two categories in my heart and mind—Before Cooper and After Cooper. The Before Coopers were hilarious and like a second set of parents for me. “His dad stood up on his chair and screamed, ‘That’s my boy!’”

  Throwing her head back, she laughed even harder. “Please tell me someone caught it on video?”

  Nodding, I wiped my face with my hands. “Of course. I think it’s on YouTube, too.”

  Looking over, I caught her watching me with a big smile on her face. “It’s memories that’ll keep him alive, Elijah. I want to hear all of them, and if there’s a video to support it, even better because I get to relive the experience like I was there with you.”

  I’d been close to the tipping point from ‘I like you very much’ to ‘I love you like fuck’, but those words tipped the scales into the latter.

  I’d never said the words to anyone who wasn’t family, though, so I needed to figure out how I was going to do that. Instead, I moved into her space and hugged her against my chest. “You bring me peace, Sadie.”

  Rubbing her face into my chest, she murmured, “You bring me everything, Elijah.”

  Hook, line, and sinker, I belonged to Sadie Odessa Dahl.

  And she was having my fucking baby.

  Which reminded me. “I need to feed the two of you, pixie.” Rubbing her belly, I suddenly couldn’t wait to feel it kicking and moving around.

  “Can I have jerky?”

  We’d stopped to pick up some groceries on our way here, and when she’d seen a pack of jerky, she’d gotten her first craving.

  “So long as you don’t mix it with nasty shit like ice cream and pickles.”

  Way the wrong thing to say, apparently, because she gulped in a mouthful of air and went pale.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sadie

  I was going to bloody brain him.

  Was it possible for a vagina to explode? None of that asking for a friend nonsense—I was asking for my poor nunney.

  Last night, I’d had a nice shower and felt refreshed, and like I could survive, then the nausea had hit. Fortunately, the puke boy scout had ginger ale, anti-nausea medication, crackers, these chunks of crystallized ginger, and Gatorade to hand—literally to hand.

  I’d come out to get some water, hoping it would help, and he’d taken one look, bent over the edge of the bed, and up came a pregnant puker’s worst nightmare or biggest dream depending on how you looked at it. I would have started with the anti-nausea medication and a sip of ginger ale, but he’d made me have some of each. Now, granted, it worked, but he’d woken me up twice in the night to make sure I hadn’t thrown up in my sleep. Actually, that was kind of cute, so scratch that.

  However, he now knew the perfect temperature for showers and baths, so he’d gone out to get a thermometer—a digital human one—to stick under the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot.

  This morning, I’d woken up to an anti-nausea pill being pressed to my lips before I’d even opened my eyes because Parker said it was best to take it first thing, and more Gatorade. Again, the temperature of the shower was checked, and he intermittently stuck his arm in with the thermometer to check it through the duration.

  I’d smiled and chuckled, thinking he was cute—while freaking out internally about what he was going to be like as a dad—and had then gone to get a cup of coffee, reminding myself it had to be medium strength.

  The first mouthful convinced me I’d been poisoned, and when I opened the garbage can to dump out what was in the filter in the coffee maker, I’d seen an empty packet of decaf that he’d poured into a regular tin to trick me. Not so cute. After some searching, I’d found the real stuff and had made a cup of medium/weak coffee and was just sitting back to enjoy it when he stuck the thermometer into it and said it was too hot.

  And finally, fina-fucking-lly, I put on a bikini that had been packed for me, and he’d banned me from going out in the sun because I could ‘overcook the baby.’ So I was sitting in the shade while he checked the temperature outside on his phone and cross-checked with the Gods of Google if that was allowed.

  “You know,” I called sweetly, getting his attention. “If you don’t calm down, I’m going to shove your phone and your thermometer up your arse.”

  Apparently, I was too sweet because he only nodded and continued doing what he was doing.

  “Okay, this says you’re fine to come into the sun, but you can’t spend long periods outside in case you overheat. You need to stay hydrated—”

  Looking at the four massive bottles of Gatorade, water, and whatever else he’d stocked up on, I pointed out, “Hardly likely when you’re a beverage pusher.”

  “—and sunbathing isn’t recommended if you suffer from excessive nausea. Oh, I also picked up ketosis strips while I was in the store, so if you can pee into the red cup in the bathroom, I’ll stick one in it and check your levels.”

  Blinking rapidly, I tried to figure out if he’d said what I thought he’d said. “Pardon?”

  Turning to look at me, he frowned. “Ketosis strips, like the ones Parker used. Well, maybe not quite because these are for people doing the keto diet, but they measure accurately. I’ve got some disposable cups, so pee into one of them when you go to the bathroom, and we’ll test your ketosis levels to see if they’re going down.”

  Yes, he had said what I thought he’d said.

  If I didn’t want this cup of coffee so badly, I’d have tipped the whole packet of strips into it.

  “Um, Elijah?”

  “Mmm?” he mumbled, looking around us for the next hazard to worry about.

  “Don’t you think you’re going overboard?” I asked, holding my fingers an inch apart. “Just a smidge?”
<
br />   Looking utterly perplexed that I’d think this, he moved to join me on the shady patio, crouching down in front of me with his hands on my thighs. “Pixie, seeing you as sick as you were scared the fuck out of me, so you’re going to have to bear with me while I get my rational brain back online. All I want is to make sure that you,”—he pressed his hand against my stomach—“and our baby are okay and healthy. Is that too much to ask?”

  When he looked at me all pitifully like that and said nice things, no, it wasn’t, but I had limits. Sighing, I shook my head and leaned forward to rest my forehead against his. “No, honey, it’s not.” When his eyes lit up triumphantly, and he went to pull away from me, though, I held fast to the back of his neck, keeping him in place. “But if you take away the two cups of medium strength coffee that I’m allowed a day and talk about testing my wee again, I’ll shove your thermometer up your arse. Is that too much to ask?” I fluttered my eyelashes at him.

  I almost fell face first off the chair when he threw his head back without warning to laugh but caught myself at the last second. When it left him, he cupped my face in his hands and gave me a gentle kiss. “That’s not too much to ask, baby, but if you could try the test strips just until we know you’re okay, I’d be grateful.”

  “Well, okay! Look at us being all mature and shit.”

  The sound of a phone ringing confused me for a second. Have you ever gone on a vacation in a different country, and you didn’t want to pay the extra charges on your phone, so you switched it off? That’s what it felt like I was doing here, except I didn’t have my phone in case the big, bad wanker was tracking it somehow.

  Reaching behind him, Elijah pulled his new phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen before hitting it. “Noah, how’s it—” he stopped and looked at me before getting up and moving onto the grass.

  I couldn’t hear much of what was being said, but I saw his face go hard at whatever his cousin was telling him. Deciding enough was enough, I got up and walked over to join him, putting my hand on his back to get his attention.

  Looking at me grimly, he sighed, “Yeah, I’ll tell her. Has anyone told Ned?”

  Wondering what was so bad and if my dad was okay, I didn’t hear him say goodbye or notice him putting his phone away until he was standing in front of me again.

  “Pixie, do you know a girl called Ramona? I think she comes into Rebels sometimes with Shonelle.”

  The name was familiar, but I couldn’t put it with a face. Well, that was until I remembered a situation not that long ago when she’d been drowning her sorrows at the bar, not long after Ariana and I had started working there. “Yes, cooch toot chick.”

  “Cooch toot chick?” he repeated slowly. Why he was confused, I didn’t know. The name was totally self-explanatory.

  “Actually, no, she didn’t cooch toot, she uh…” figuring it was best left at that, I just smiled and shrugged. “Yeah, I’ve met her once or twice.”

  “She got drunk last night in Rebels and was telling anyone who’d listen that Shonelle has been missing for over a week. Apparently, the last time somebody saw her, she was heading to meet up with a guy who was helping her with something. Tate let Connor know, but a missing person report had been filed by her parents a couple of hours before that.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “That’s not all. It’s hot in the sun, let’s sit in the shade while I tell you this part.”

  If it was her serenading the bar with her arse, I was immune to that part of the story from her by now. I’d had to listen to her crying drunkenly for over two hours that night about how she’d orgasmed and farted on some poor bugger. I still couldn’t relax when I came because of it. And why, why would anyone tell that story to a bunch of people you didn’t know? I still couldn’t get my head around it.

  As he led me inside the house, he grabbed the bottle of water off the table, smiling over his shoulder. “Any excuse to get you to drink, right?”

  Shooting him a grin, I thought back over his earlier words and realized I didn’t care if he was a liquid pusher. I’d drawn the boundary lines for him, and the rest I’d give him gladly.

  Once he made sure I was comfortable on the couch, even going as far as to shove another cushion behind my back, I took a mouthful of water and held my hand up. “One second. Before you tell me what you’ve got to say, I just want to say something to you. Thank you for caring so much about our baby and me. It’s not necessary for you to be so worried because if I don’t feel well, I’ll let you know, but you’re an amazing man, Elijah. In fact, you’re as rare as you are beautiful, which is an insane amount.”

  Sitting beside me, he pulled me into his side and tipped my chin up with his finger. “That’s my line, my pixie.”

  I loved, loved, loved it when he called me ‘my pixie.’

  “It’s funny, you know. I’d have to get up on my knees right now to be able to reach your mouth to kiss you, and I’m fairly certain you’re going to have curvature of the spine in a few years bending to kiss me. We really shouldn’t fit, but we totally do.”

  Chuckling, he leaned down until his lips were almost touching mine. “You want to do the honors?”

  I did, so I absolutely did. Pulling his head down to close the tiny gap, I didn’t go gently. I kissed the hell out of him until he pulled away, panting.

  “My Elijah.”

  Giving me one last soft kiss, he murmured against my lips, “My pixie.”

  It was such a beautiful moment that I almost forgot he had more to tell me about his phone call with his cousin.

  “Baby, while she was talking, she let slip about how Shonelle had been ranting a couple of months ago about the night we left together. She’d put something in my drink, thinking it would make me go home with her, but I insisted on going to the room I had at the motel we were all staying at for Christmas. When she got me there, she stripped off, but by the time she was done, I was out cold, and she couldn’t wake me up.”

  “She drugged you?” I asked, horrified.

  Looking at me with concern, he nodded. Then he asked the weirdest question, making my head jerk back. “Are you okay?”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, I know this is like what that fucker did to you—”

  “Uh, no.” I got up and started pacing back and forth in front of the couch, the anger building. “He hit me with his fists because he’s a fucked up piece of shit. What that woman did to you could have killed you. What the fuck is wrong with people?”

  “Pixie, it’s close to what happened, and if you hadn’t been here when I got the call, I wouldn’t have told you until we were sure everything was okay with you and the baby.”

  “No,” I snapped. “Don’t treat me like I’m an invalid. Women have been having babies since we were the amoebas in dinosaur poop, so me puking every so often isn’t even an issue, just an inconvenience. What’s an issue is some woman putting a drug in someone’s drink so that she can shag them because she knows they’d more than likely say no if she asked outright. Is it so wrong to hear the word no? Is it?”

  “No, baby, it’s not.”

  “So what do people have against giving someone the option to choose freely if they want to have sex with them?”

  Standing up, he came over and wrapped me up in his arms. “Calm down, Sadie. It’s not worth getting so upset over.”

  “But what if she’d hurt you? Or if she hurts someone else?”

  “Tate called Connor to let him know what Ramona had said, so he’s bringing her and some of Shonelle’s coven in for questioning. If he gets what he needs, then once they find her, I’ll press charges. I just need you to calm down.”

  I didn’t want to calm down, I wanted blood. “I don’t like her,” I mumbled into his chest, feeling it shake against my face. “If you’re laughing, I’ll twist your nipple off.”

  “Is now the time to tell you piece of news number three?”

  Tilting my head back to glare up at him, I jerked my head to tell him to get o
n with it.

  “Mom found you an OB/GYN who came highly recommended in Sarasota. He’s on Arlington Street, about a twenty-minute drive from here, and came highly recommended.”

  “Why’s that bad news?”

  “You’ve got an appointment in just over an hour to meet him and get a checkup. I saw the text after I hung up from Noah and had to prioritize what to tell you first.” He at least had the decency to look sheepish about it.

  Sighing, I saluted him. “Okie Dokie, boss man. I better go and get ready.”

  Before I could pull away, though, he was pulling me in for a last kiss. This time it was slow, sweet, and made my toes curl.

  “No matter what’s thrown at us, we’ve got this, pixie.”

  Yeah, I just hoped they caught Orson and that bitch Shonelle soon. I hated that we were at a crossroads in our relationship, heading to something better than most people had, and we couldn’t enjoy it without worrying about what call we were going to get next. And it’s not exactly like I could go up and punch Shonelle if I saw her, I was pregnant, for Christ’s sake.

  Maybe I could kick her in her lying Helen Hunt, though?

  Elijah had been quiet the whole drive to the OB/GYN, chewing his lip as he stewed over something. I’d assumed it was the news about Shonelle and that he was taking a couple of minutes to come to terms with it, but when he’d parked up in the parking lot in front of the building we were due to go into, he’d turned to face me.

  “Do you think we can still have sex when you’re pregnant?”

  Checking to make sure he was serious, I almost choked on the gum I’d be gnawing on when I saw he was. “Why wouldn’t we be able to?”

  And if he said about his dick size, so help me God…

  Frowning, he stared down at where his fingernail was mauling the knee of his jeans. Yeah, jeans in this heat. Nutter. “I heard somewhere that having sex brings on labor and contractions. What if it does it before the baby’s ready?”