“And that’s what I was waiting for,” she sighed, tossing her napkin down.
“What?”
“You weren’t carrying my baby before,” she mocked in a low voice. “From now on, I will only ever be an extension of the baby.”
“The things I want to do to you right now have nothing to do with the baby,” I grumbled.
“Then take me home and show me.”
I tugged her out of the booth and dragged her out of the diner after haphazardly tossing down enough money to cover breakfast for a week. I barely shoved her up against the wall of the diner before my lips were over hers and my body was fully pressed to her body.
“This is not the place,” she panted.
“Fuck, you’re right.”
I peeled my body from hers and grabbed her hand, tugging her down the street to where my truck was parked. I was desperate to get her home, to feel her body against mine. After the way they were all teasing me, I was on edge.
But I never made it to the truck.
We were just outside The General Store when I saw it. Wesley was inside, and he was shoving candy bars in his jacket, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking.
“Fuck,” I muttered, coming to a stop.
“What is it?”
I nodded at the store window, and when she saw the same as me, she turned on her heel and stormed back to the door, yanking it open as she charged inside.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she shouted as she approached Wesley.
I came up behind her, stepping around to find out exactly how much shit this kid was planning on stealing. “Empty your pockets.”
“What’s going on?” John Callahan asked, his voice tight with tension when he saw me.
Ignoring him, I narrowed my eyes on Wesley. “Empty them. Now.”
Rolling his eyes, the kid did as I said, pulling out three candy bars and a soda from his pockets.
“You fucking thief!” John shouted, about to launch himself at Wesley.
Interceding, I placed my bulky frame between him and the kid. The last thing I needed was bloodshed on my hands. “Let me handle this.”
“Handle. Ha! I heard you took the little punk in. You’re probably just as bad as his parents.”
“Would you like to press charges?”
“You’re damn straight I do!” John yelled, his face red and mottled with rage. His finger shot out as he pointed at the kid. “You come in here again, I’ll pull out my twelve gauge and put a hole in your chest!”
“Mr. Callahan, please calm down. I’ll take him to the station. There’s no need for threats.”
“Threats? That’s not a threat, you punk. It’s a promise. Come back and find out for yourself when you’re not hiding behind that badge.”
I had no time for threats from this man. He already had it out for my family, and now Wesley was adding fuel to the fire.
“Step back right now,” I ordered. “I’m taking him down to the station, and you can meet me there to make a statement.”
“I’m not meeting you anywhere!”
“Fine. Don’t press charges,” I snarled.
