“Hey, Olly… umm, where’d you get the baby?” Spencer asks, his eyebrows raised with curiosity.
“What baby?” I glance around and inquire, as if it’s not obvious I’m hauling around a fifty-pound car seat.I didn’t need my arms, anyway.
He cocks an eyebrow.
Ugh, fine.
“Everyone meet Mazie…”
I catch a glimpse of Jasper out of the corner of my eye, but I can’t make myself look. I don’t know if it’s because of the lingering thoughts about the kiss or that I don’t know what I expect to find written across his face.
Shock maybe, confusion, complete and utter horror? Jasper and ‘baby’ don’t normally go together. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in the same room as a kid.
Mazie lets out the tiniest of wails.
“Oh, my god, there’s a real baby in there,” Spencer says, jumping up from the couch and rushing over.
“Yep, she’s very much real.”
“How did this happen?” he asks.
“Well, nowadays there are plenty of ways to have…” Spencer slaps my arm playfully and takes a quick peek under the blanket. I adjust the car seat in my arms, clueing him into the fact I can no longer feel them.
“Oh, here, sit. That thing has to be heavy.”
Spencer leads us over to the couch and motions for me to sit down next to Alex. I unbuckle Mazie and lift her out of the car seat, cradling her in my arms as her tiny whimpers settle.
“So… what’s new?” Alex asks, a smirk playing across his lips.
I roll my eyes and tell them about finding Mazie next to the dumpsters at The Diner.
I notice Spencer, who is struggling to hold back tears of his own. It’s a sad story, really, no matter how you look at it. A mother who believed she needed to give up her baby in order to protect her, and a baby who will never know the true love her mother had for her.
“Where are social services? Why is she with you and not them?” Finn asks, his arms wrapped tightly around Spencer.
“Well, apparently, Ms. Wilson is on vacation until next week. She’s normally the one who handles the social services cases if they come up.”
“And there was nobody else more qualified to take her?” Jaxon asks.
I want to scoff at that, but I can’t, not really. I’m definitely not qualified to take care of Mazie. But it’s not like I could just do nothing.
Now here I am, taking care of a baby when my original plan was to go home after this and spend some quality time with Juan, my electric mixer. After all, that’s why I stepped back from The Diner.
Because baking calms my need to have everything neat and orderly, I’m in desperate need of doing some because my life is about to becomenotso neat and orderly.
And then there’s Jasper and the fucking kiss.
The kiss.
How am I supposed to pretend that the feel of his lips on mine wasn’t earth-shattering?
When I finally look up, needing to see the expression on his face, he tilts his head, eyes searching. I feel raw and vulnerable every time he looks at me like that; like he can see every one of my flaws.
We are complete opposites.
Jasper goes with the flow and I’m uptight and anal. Don’t even get me started on his body. Have you seen the way the leather pants hug his perfect ass and frame his junk?
I’ve never really gravitated to men like Jasper. Pretty, but in a sexy, rocker kinda way. No, I usually stick to the guys who don’t care about the grease stains on my shirt or that I haven’t shaved in a few days.
