“Foster, what am I missing?”
He hems and haws, repositioning his hat once more. “I can’t really do anything to help you through this, so I just thought, if you can’t drink, I don’t drink.”
When I laugh, a flash of hurt hits his eyes, making me feel like a jerk.
I rest my hand on his forearm. It’s so muscular. I wonder what it would feel like if his fingers were diving in and out of me.
What the hell was that?
I blink and shake my head. “I’m sorry. That’s incredibly sweet of you, but unnecessary.”
His eyebrows draw down. “I’m doing it.”
There’s a finality to his tone. I want to fight him on it, tell him he doesn’t owe me anything, but I’m not sure I can change his mind.
“Fine, but you’ll have to go back to making sarcastic insults to people.”
A cocky smirk crosses his face, and my libido starts up like a racecar engine. “You telling me you want me to be a dick?” He leans forward a little, caging me against the wall.
I wish I could break the small amount of distance between us and kiss him. “I’m telling you to be yourself.”
“You looked beautiful by the way.” His voice is a low whisper. “In the dress.”
My cheeks heat. Although his tough and rough act gets me hot, his compliments are like a simmer slowly heating up my insides—and my libido.
“Thank you. But I mean it, I’m not looking for any dramatic acts of solidarity here. We’re going to co-parent our little one, but that’s all.”
He nods, but his eyes don’t stray from mine.
Shouldn’t the fact that there’s a baby inside me make the desire between us disappear instead of putting gasoline on a raging bonfire? We have much more important things to be worried about.
“Callie?”
I love the way my name sounds on his lips.
“Foster?”
“What are you guys doing?” Hayes’s voice has us both turning to see him standing at the end of the short hallway.
I bend forward and cough, pretending I’m clearing my throat.
“She got dizzy, so I was trying to help support her.” Foster’s lie glides off his tongue faster than one of his pitches, so fast it’s a tad scary.
“Dizzy?” Hayes breaks the distance, a concerned look on his face. “From all the sugar in your drink?” There’s disbelief and questioning in his tone, despite his concern.
I’m not sure if we’re fooling him as easily as we think we are.
I stand straight and cover my mouth. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom to splash some water on my face.”
“I’ll send in Mom or Leighton,” he says.
I leave Foster to answer any more questions my brother might have. There’s no way my brother bought that act, and if we’re not more careful, he’s going to find out before we can actually tell him.
Chapter
Twelve
Foster
