Clay's Unwanted Blondie

Chapter 64

♥⁠╣CLAY╠⁠♥

"AND THIS ONE?"

"Some guy showed up with a machete. Losing was my thing but I couldn't let him shackle me to death"

Her finger across the ridges of his torso, circling that one scar that had piqued her interest.

"What if he did...shackle you to death?"

"You'd be with Clint and I'd be dead not knowing what I was missing out on"

Her hands slapped his chest, faster than her body took a leap from him.

His quick reflexes already had him grabbing her wrists and dragging her naked back where it belonged.

To his chest. To his warmth. To him. To the uncomfortable couch.

"Sorry", he murmured getting lost in her hair.

That rich blonde head of thick hair he loved so much.

Cancer might have been a bitch once upon a time to her but it would probably look down on Brooklyn and weep for everything she had accomplished so far.

"That was not funny"

"Twas a bad joke"

"A very bad joke. Sure you were an ass and all and yes I'm cussing because our daughter is asleep but again I'd never want you dead"

She'd said our daughter and he grinned slightly because she didn't know how much he needed to hear that.

Their daughter.

"I know"

"No you don't know. Us being here with you is umm different. She's different, she's happier than I've seen her"

"Are you happy?"

Say yes.

One word and it would make this night more spectacular.

"Am I happy that we've been moving from one ride to another and we end up with me puking my guts out and you holding my hair every night?

Am I happy that our daughter has been dishing out a few words to me much more than she had when we were back home?

Am I happy that everytime you lose in a children's game, we end up in Walmart or Target to buy the same exact toys you failed to win Mia and I?

Yes, I guess I'm happy"

He could have told her Mia was going to talk to her more and come the next few weeks, she would be accustomed to their daughter whining for more ice cream and a bigger horsie.

He could have explained that those amusement games were rigged.

No one won anything except for that ginger kid with the stripped shirt who won a plastic sword. But that was luck. The kid was lucky.

As for the puking that had gone on for weeks.

It wasn't nausea from the carousel, Blondie.

Or the twirly whirly ride that had her asking for more than two bottled water.

The truth was in the pudding.

No not in the pudding, in the oven.

All she needed was to pee on a stick and those two red parallel lines would confirm what his heart knew.

A baby.

Another freaking baby.

God kill him now.

And this time? He was going to be here to witness all the firsts of that baby.