by Kristy Marie
A breast what?
“It’s okay,” Mac whispers, probably seeing the ‘holy shit’ look on my face.
I nod, swallowing quickly and breathing through my nose as the doctor moves to the other side of the table and unties the gown.
Oh fuck. I shouldn’t be here. I should—“Honey.”
Mac’s voice snaps me out of the panic. I meet her green eyes, holding them as the doctor bares her breasts. A pink pert nipple flashes into my vision, and I can’t help but notice her tit is the perfect handful.
The doctor moves and presses around, and I have to shift on my feet, smothering a quiet groan. “Should we take Pops out for nachos? He’s been mentioning he misses mine at the stand.”
My initial reaction is that the only thing I want to eat is my wife’s pussy and cover her breasts with my mouth and rid all the thoughts of another woman, doctor or not, touching her. But that would be crazy since we’re not together in that way. But telling my dick that is a different story. Currently, he could hammer a nail in the wall with how hard it is.
“Darling?”
I shake off the thoughts and focus on Mac. “Dinner?” she repeats.
I nod my head. “Dinner is fine.”
Her smile widens. “I have just the place. Pops will love it.”
I nod my head. I can appreciate her distracting me from her tits. “Sounds good.”
Mac squeezes my hand and the doctor, blessedly, covers Mac’s chest. “Swap places with me, Mr. Lexington.”
Fuck. “We have to do the other one too?”
I’m thinking I need to forego dinner and spend a night locked in the shower until my dick is too tired to even twitch.
The doctor laughs. “This is the last one.”
Everyone is a freaking comedian today, which is fine, I suppose. At least it got Mac out of her funk and more relaxed.
Well, it did. Up until the nurse dims the lights and rolls the ultrasound machine closer.
“All right, McKinley. You’re gonna feel a little pressure and warm gel.”
Dr. Cameron pushes the device along Mac’s stomach, bringing the screen to life.
Mac gasps and squeezes my hand.
“You okay?” The doctor peers over the sheet, and Mac nods. “Okay then, if you’ll both look to the screen.”
Instinctively, I turn and see the fuzzy black and white picture with a bean-shaped black spot in the center.
“See that right there?” The doctor’s free hand touches the screen, directly on the bean shape. “That’s your baby.”
I grin, looking down at Mac, since she hasn’t said anything, and see that her eyes are screwed shut. “Mac?”
With her lips pinched shut, she shakes her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Open your eyes. Look at the baby.” I lean over and place a kiss on her forehead, but her eyes never open.
“I can’t.” Her arms loop over my neck and holds me to her. “Please don’t make me.”
“Never,” I promise her, this time kissing her cheek. I don’t know what happened that made her not want to see the baby, but now is not the time to discuss it. I imagine Mac will have many more times to see the baby before it’s born. “I’ll watch for you.”
The last comment has her sobbing into my shirt at which point Dr. Cameron assures me that mood swings and bouts of crying are normal for pregnant women. What she doesn’t confirm is if it’s normal that pregnant women don’t want to see their baby on the ultrasound. But, then again, I’m a man. What do I know about carrying babies?
Dr. Cameron goes on to show me the heartbeat and the baby’s measurements at twelve weeks old before she prints out the images for Mac and me to look at when she isn’t so emotional.
“You guys are getting a Christmas baby,” Dr. Cameron announces, turning on the lights.
Mac sits up and nods, her eyes still red and swollen. “Thank you.”
Dr. Cameron pats her leg. “The hormones will level out, I promise. The good news is you and the baby are both healthy.” She steps back and offers me her hand. “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Lexington.”
“Thank you.” I shake her hand and wait for her and the nurse to clear out before shutting the door, leaning against it, and flashing Mac a half-smile. “I don’t know if all this baby talk has made me hormonal or what, but I’m suddenly craving a pickle.”
“I like pickles,” Mac confirms through a sniffle.
“Really? No kidding?”
She laughs. “Where’s my wrench?”
“Where it belongs.” I approach the table and offer her my hand. “Let’s get you out of this contraption, yeah?”
She smiles, and it only serves to make her cheeks puffier. “I’d like that.”
My stomach knots and I touch the swollen skin under her eyes, drying what I hope is the last of her tears for the day. “No more crying either. It makes me feel weird.”
She nods, a tiny hint of a grin emerging. “Weirder than getting a boner while your wife gets a vaginal exam?”
“Ew. Don’t call it that.”
“What about a pootinanny exam?”
I belt out a laugh. “What the hell is a pootinanny?”
Mac pulls her feet from the stirrups, allowing them to dangle. “A cooch.”
“Oh my word. Just stop. I’m sorry I even asked.”
Pulling her gown lower, I help her off the table, like a gentleman, and change the subject. “I’ll wait for you outside.”
Before I can turn away, Mac grabs my shirt. “I’ll never be able to thank you for today.” She shakes her head. “For everything.”
“It’s not a big—”
“It is a big deal, Cooper Lexington. You are a hotshot professional athlete, you deserve your first marriage to be to a young woman with nice tits, an influential family, and a stomach flatter than this table. I’m sorry you wasted your first marriage on me. I’m sorry that my stomach will grow to the size of a beach ball with another man’s baby that everyone will assume is yours. You don’t deserve this, but I’m beyond grateful you’re giving me this opportunity to get myself together. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you, but I will, somehow. I promise.”
You would think she would be out of tears, but another sneaks down her cheek, and I sigh. “Hush and get dressed. I’ll be waiting outside.”
I’m not telling her how stupid her observation is. I didn’t waste anything. McKinley Parks is one of the kindest souls I’ve ever encountered. She took care of an old man who’s rude to nearly everyone. She loves plants—though she’s not very good at keeping them alive. But she tries at everything she does. She’s passionate, and whatever pain she’s been through with this pregnancy, I hope the man who walked out on her knows I plan on making him pay for every tear she cries. No one fucks with my family. Especially my wife.
Closing the door behind me, I come face to face with Dr. Cameron. “I forgot to mention to McKinley that she should be taking it easy, no heavy lifting, riding rollercoasters, you know, common sense stuff.”
I pause. I never thought of the things Mac wouldn’t be able to do. Did she realize that? We’re going to have a talk about that damn wrench in her purse.
“Got it,” I tell the doctor, but I’m lying.
What if Pops needs help getting up? Mac shouldn’t be the one to do it.
Great.
This whole arrangement just got a lot more complicated.
McKinley
It’s been a month since the ultrasound incident. The good news is, Cooper didn’t latch on to what happened and hound me like a Labrador for more information. Instead, he made good on his promise and took me for a pickle, which was mouth-gasmingly delicious. The bad news is now Cooper has to die. Yes, even sweet men must have expiration dates.
“Do not get off the plane tonight. You won’t live to see tomorrow if you do.”
Cooper’s voice is muffled as I imagine he’s covering the phone, since I’m basically shouting at him at the top of my lungs. “Calm down. You’re being dramatic,
” he argues.
I’ll show him dramatic… “We had a deal, Coop! I thought you took your vows seriously?”
He drags in a ragged breath and tells someone in the background he’ll be back in a few minutes.
“Don’t tell them you’ll be back. Tell them goodbye because once I get my hands on you…”
“Mac, you’re blowing this way out of proportion.”
How dare he? “Me? Pops is just as pissed off as I am!”
“I’m sorry, but—”
You know what? Fuck him. We’re married, and per our vows, I have just as much say in this as he does.
I hang up on Cooper, cutting off whatever excuse he was about to use. I don’t want to hear it. He made a promise and he’s not going to renege. If I wasn’t good enough, then he shouldn’t have offered to marry me.
“Pops?”
I call out to the living room, where the TV is blaring at levels so high the neighbors could follow along.
After a few seconds, the TV is muted followed by a wary, “What did the traitor say?”
And this is why Pops will always be my bestie. “He said I was being dramatic. Can you believe that?”
Pops walks over to where I’m standing by the door. “It’s Cooper we’re talking about…”
“True. What do you think we should do?” I nod to the front door where the problem awaits.
Pops shrugs a shoulder, a conniving grin emerging. “I’m thinking Mrs. Lexington has just as much authority as Mr. Lexington.”
My brows rise. “That she does. And I’m thinking it’s about time she started using said authority.”
“That’s my girl. Show Cooper who’s boss.” He raises his palm in the air for a high five.
I wait to slap it, narrowing my eyes. “But should he explode and be the scary Closer Coop, you better have my back, old man.”
“You know I got you.” But he lowers his hand as if reconsidering what he’s suggesting I do.
It’s too late, though. Even if Cooper detonates in a fit of fury, I’ll match his anger with my own. Who does he think he is?
With one last look at Pops, I wrench open the door and confront the woman who showed up at nine o’clock on the dot with a warm smile and a death wish.
“My apologies, Ms…” Yeah, I didn’t catch her name. “After speaking with Mr. Lexington, he offers his sincere apologies and two weeks of pay for the hassle, but we no longer require your services.”
The woman, bless her, looks so confused, and rightfully so. Cooper was out of his mind hiring a nurse to help—get this—me and Pops. Me! As if he didn’t marry me for the sole purpose of repaying me with his celebrity insurance in return for caring for Pops while he’s away at games. The nerve!
“I’m sorry. I know Mr. Lexington is an asshole. He’s in a twelve-step program for it, but clearly, he can’t get past step one in realizing he has a problem.”
And that’s knowing we had a deal.
“I’m…” The nurse shakes her head, at a loss for words.
“I know, honey. Just feel sorry for us. We have to live with him on a daily basis. You head on home now, and take these next two weeks of paid leave and enjoy yourself. I’ll be sure to pass on a giant fuck you to Cooper for you.”
“Oh no, that’s—”
I pat her on the shoulder and step back. “It’s okay. I’ll be politically correct when I pass on your best wishes. You have a wonderful day. Thanks again for tolerating my husband and his crazy antics. You’re truly a saint.”
At that, I cast, what I’m sure is a very nice woman, a smile and close the door, turning to face my partner in crime. “You didn’t restart the show without me, did you?”
Pops flashes me a toothy grin. “Never.”
I didn’t murder Cooper when he landed. Instead, I fell asleep, only waking up when I needed to pee and to turn off the TV in the living room.
I should have known he would still be up—still watching game footage like he does every night he’s home.
“You need sleep,” I tell him, picking up the remote and hitting pause.
His gaze lifts from the screen, slowly trekking up my body, lingering on my bare knees, and hovering at the hem line of the t-shirt I borrowed from his drawer.
“Are you worried about me, Mrs. Lexington?”
His words have a hard edge to them, and I don’t realize what he means until I respond, “Yes. I made vows too.”
“So, you can take care of me, but I can’t take care of you? Is that how this marriage is going to go?”
Ah. So this is why he’s sitting here looking like he tasted something sour. “Look, it’s late, and I don’t feel like getting pissed off at you again.”
His brows rise. “You’re pissed off? Imagine my fury when the nurse I hired to assist you and Pops calls me and says, Mrs. Lexington doesn’t require my services,’ and good luck in my program.”
I smother a grin and move closer, standing in front of him and extending my hand to help him up. “What can I say? You like to pick the crazy ones.”
He ignores my hand. “You infuriated me today.”
Shrugging, I drop my hand. “Then you felt an ounce of what I felt when you betrayed me.”
“I didn’t betray you, McKinley.” He sighs. “What are you going to do in a few months when you can’t pull Pops off the ground if he falls?”
“I can handle it.”
“What if you can’t and you fall and hurt the baby? I can’t—”
Stepping forward, I run my hands through my husband’s hair, tilting his head up and forcing him to look at me. “I know you like to bear the weight of everyone’s problems, Coop, but you don’t have to anymore. Pops and I can manage ourselves. His balance is ten times what it was a month ago. His therapist says thanks to our activities at the senior center, Pops has gotten much stronger. We’ll be okay, Cooper. Just worry about you for a little while—like catching up on some sleep.”
I note the dark circles under his eyes. “Did you even sleep at all while you were away?”
His hands go to mine, tugging them from his hair and placing them at my side. “This looks better on you,” he murmurs, skimming his fingers between the fabric of his shirt and the tops of my thighs.
I swallow, willing away the attraction I’ve developed for this gorgeous, aggravating man with sandy hair that looks like he’s fresh out of a sunscreen commercial. I can just picture him with a longboard, remnants of surf in his hair and the waves pounding at his feet.
Cooper Lexington is stunning. Boyish, yet magnificent, and humble in the way he honors his responsibilities and family. Most people in his position would be arrogant and cold to their grandfather, having no qualms about sending them to a nursing home once they were successful in their career.
But not Cooper.
If I’ve learned anything from living here with him and Pops, it’s that family is everything to Cooper. Whether it’s his brother calling him after games to discuss the plays or his sister-in-law calling to give him updates about the growing baby in her belly and his brother’s health, Cooper is present and involved, proving just how much his family means to him.
And after each call and each outing with Pops, he disappears into his room. Once, after a lengthy call with his agent, he retreated into his room and didn’t come out for quite some time. Just as I was going to check on him, Pops stopped me and said Cooper needed privacy.
I still don’t know what he does in there, but I know his family’s burdens weigh on him. I don’t want to be another one of his burdens, contributing to his exhaustion.
“You’re right,” I whisper, moving my hands back to his hair where I wanted them, tilting his head back, staring into those deep blue eyes ringed in red. “This shirt does look better on me.”
Gripping my shirt, his legs fall open and he yanks me between them.
I don’t have to look down to see that he’s hard, his length pulsing against my thighs, anxious and starved. “Why do you fight me about everything?”
His hands go to my thighs, wedging between them.
My head bows forward. “You make it too easy,” I mumble, fighting the urge to ease lower and grind down on his hands.
“I do, huh?” His hands roam down my legs and away from where I want him the most. “Guess I’ll have to work on that.”
This is why he gets threatened on days ending in y.
“I think what you need to work on is—” I yank his head back and trail kisses along his neck, eliciting a deep raspy groan as I add, “—being more tolerable.”
A slight rumbling fills the air between us. “What more do you want from me, McKinley?”
I kiss his cheek, my chest pounding. What more do I want? I think the better question is what on earth am I doing kissing my husband, craving his hands on me?
Hell, mere hours ago, I wanted to beat him, and now, I can’t keep my hands to myself. Maybe it’s the hormones? Maybe it’s the fact that he’s taken care of me, even when I didn’t want him to. Perhaps I’m attracted to hard-headed men.
The truth is, Cooper Lexington—despite being annoying—is a good man—a man that doesn’t deserve a wife carrying another man’s baby. A man that cares for everyone but himself.
A man that I feel certain will ruin me for all other men who come after him.
A man I shouldn’t fall in love with.
“I want you to touch me,” I finally admit, taking my husband’s hand, my voice quivering with nerves, and pushing it at my center. I can’t change our deal or my past. All I can offer him is the truth of what I want. “Touch me like you’ll touch the real Mrs. Lexington one day.”
McKinley
Cooper’s breath hitches as he leans forward. “You are the real Mrs. Lexington. In every way that matters.”
“You know what I mean. I’ve never been touched as someone’s wife, and after we… you know, divorce…” I swallow, my gaze settling on the floor as I open myself up to my husband, allowing the feelings I’ve developed for him to spread into my heart where they don’t belong. Because in the end, I can’t keep him; he deserves better. I take a breath. “I want to know what it feels like to be loved by all of you.”