“Do you need any help?” Jordan’s tone is suddenly enthusiastic, and her focus is more on Grayson than me.
I look up, attempting to be polite, but regardless of how frequently my brain shouts for my mouth to answer her, it refuses to relinquish my words. I hate the way she’s eyeballing Grayson like he isn’t standing in a store predominantly visited by couples.
This isn’t Tinder in the Wild. She should save her prowling for outside of work hours.
I inwardly curse myself. When Grayson and I worked together before, I often had to take my own advice, and I am not as beautiful as Jordan. I’ve always been the plain Jane of the group, preferring comfort over bust-defying shirts and skimpy skirts. It is even worse now that I can barely fit into a single article of clothing in the minimal selection in my linen closet.
With my mouth being uncooperative, Grayson takes up the campaign on my behalf. “Yes. Macy is looking for a crib. Do you have any recommendations?”
Jordan glances at Grayson, her lashes fluttering excessively, before she turns her attention back to me. “We have a few options.” Her expression dips back to disinterested when her eyes land on me. “But cribs can be quite expensive. Do you need a new one? If you’ve delayed parenting until your age and are doing it alone, spending a fortune on a crib that you’ll only use once makes no sense.”
I’m annoyed she’s talking down to me, but I stay calm, more bothered by her lusty gawk of Grayson than her ribbing about my age. “I’m sure.”
Jordan raises a pencil-thin brow, clearly skeptical. “All right, well, this one is one of our more affordable options.” She gestures to a crib that looks extremely flimsy.
I glance at the crib, then back at Jordan. “Actually, I was thinking of one more like that.” I point to a sturdier crib that my wide gaze floated over earlier.
Jordan’s expression shifts to one of surprise. “That one is quite a bit more expensive. Are you positive you want to spend that much? Caring for a child on your own is a lot of work, but it will be worse if you put yourself in debt before the baby is here.”
I’m about to read her the riot act when Grayson steps forward again. “We’ll take it.”
He meets Jordan’s steely gaze before curling his arm around my shoulders again and brushing his lips against my temple, stilling my heart. He smells so good that I doubt I would have suffered a day of morning sickness if he had been around during the first five months of my pregnancy. That’s how calming his bottle cologne and a scent that is uniquely him are to my swirling stomach.
“If that’s the cribmy babywants, that is the cribmy babywill get.”
His growl of “my baby” is possessive, and it has no connection to the massive bump in my midsection. His false claim of ownership frustrates Jordan as much as her assumption that I cannot afford a crib for my child frustrates me. She thought she was on the money that Grayson isn’t my baby daddy, and although her intuition is on fire, I refuse to inform her of that.
With a lowered bottom lip, Jordan twists toward where she came from. “Okay. If you’re sure?” When Grayson curtly nods, she walks toward the cashier’s desk, her steps nowhere near as flighty as they were when she spotted Grayson’s arrival. “I’ll get the paperwork ready.”
I wait until she is out of sight before flipping over the price tag of the crib we’ve selected. A curse word rings in the air when a high four-figure price reflects back at me. It is way above what I had planned to spend, approaching the entire savings I set aside for a nursery.
I didn’t lie when I told Grayson my parents had stripped me of my trust fund the month I joined the bureau. Even after changing my surname to my grandmother’s maiden name on my application, as Kendall had done only a year before with her college admission, the outcome of my mother’s threat didn’t alter.
I was not to join the bureau. Work for a living? Don’t be preposterous. I was to fundraise for multiple charities and drink Mai Tais at our summer beach house until excessive boredom forced me into rehab before my thirtieth birthday.
My mother’s life plan for Kendall and me mirrored her life before she birthed us—for a seven-figure incentive payment—and then handed us to a slew of staff to raise.
Kendall’s wish to rebel against our mother’s life plan is why our mother told everyone that her daughter had run away. It was only when Kendall didn’t return after our mother had depleted her bank account did she suspect something more sinister.
Even with her beliefs changing, my parents only mention Kendall once a year during a charity gala for victims of trafficking, which they founded the year after her disappearance. I highly doubt they would mention her at all if I didn’t attend each event to send a plea to Kendall’s abductors to come forward.
All it takes is for one person to surrender to their guilt, and my sister’s case would be solved.
It’s just taken a lot longer to coerce them into confessing than I ever thought possible.
With failure bearing down on me, I balance my chin on my now-ample breasts before making a beeline for the exit.
Grayson’s stomps are as thunderous as the beats of my heart when he races to catch up to me. “Where are you going, freckles?”
“I don’t want that crib.” I gesture at the long line of cribs way out of my price range. “It’s ugly and bulky and will never fit into the microscopic andonlybedroom in the apartment.”
I’m such a liar. The crib is gorgeous, almost as handsome as Grayson’s sinfully delirious face. It’s just easier for me to pretend I don’t want something than to admit I can’t afford it. Furthermore, I told myself nothing would distract me from my quest to bring Kendall home.Thisis doing that.
I smack my back molars together, hating that I referred to something for my baby as a “this,” but it gives more understanding of why I didn’t flinch when Grayson called him or her a “that.”
“I just wanted to get Jordan’s hopes up for a big commission.”
“Mace…” Grayson knows I’m lying. He always knows when I’m lying. But mercifully, he lets my lie slip. “It’s a little overpriced, and Jordan deserves the nonviolent throat punch you’re issuing her, but if you think you’re getting out of purchasingusa new toothbrush like you didn’t throw ours in the trashafterusing it, you’re shit out of luck.”
