“Oh, shit. Is your date with someone else?”
He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You’re funny,” he says as he crowds me against the side of his car.
“Everett, people can see,” I whisper, nervously glancing left and right to see if anyone is paying us attention.
“Isn’t that the point?” he asks, successfully turning my attention back to him.
My breath catches at the heat I find in his eyes.
“We want the world to know we’re together, right?”
“Right,” I agree.
“They need to believe we’re utterly obsessed with each other. That you’ve stolen my heart and ruined me for every other woman.”
“Uh huh.” My heart rate continues to increase, and my chest starts rising and falling rapidly as I wait for what Everett is going to do next.
His eyes bounce between mine, and the second I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, his gaze drops.
Warm breath rushes over my face, and when his eyes bounce back up to mine, even I believe that he might just actually be obsessed with me.
I’m lost in thoughts about how that might not actually be a bad thing, and I miss the moment he leans a little closer.
Everything comes back to me in glorious color, though, when his lips connect with mine.
Fire shoots through my veins, and I respond to him without a second thought. My hand wraps around his waist, tugging him closer as our lips part and our tongues collide.
And for the next few seconds, I put on the best act of my life.
Pretending to myself that it’s all for show.
57
EVERETT
Having learned more about Bea and the family she was born into, you wouldn’t think she’d be uncomfortable in a designer boutique, but that’s exactly how she looks as we follow the manager, Bea’s personal shopper for the next hour, around the store.
As much as I hate that she’s not enjoying this the way she should, I also don’t want to take her to Walmart to grab a few things. I want her to have clothes she's proud of, that she feels good in.
I hadn’t really considered how all of this was affecting her until I found her drowning in all the changes to her body last night.
All I wanted to do was fix it and make her see herself the way I do.
Yes, she’s changing. But not in a bad way. She’s just as hot as she was that first night. No—she’s hotter, because she’s growing my kid. Our kid. It’s fucking incredible.
“What about this one for your party?” Anita asks, spinning around with a floral, navy dress hanging from her fingers.
“Maybe,” Bea mumbles.
“Try it,” I state, just like I have everything else she’s suggested.
I don’t think there’s anything here that wouldn’t look amazing on Bea. If I didn’t think she’d kill me in my sleep, I’d ask Anita to bag up one of everything in Bea’s size and be done with it.
By the time we get to the fitting room, Anita has a rack full of things for Bea to try on.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Anita says, looking at an obviously anxious Bea lingering at the entrance to a cubicle.
“What’s going on up here, huh?” I ask, stepping up to her and gently tapping her temple.
