Crushed (Breaking the Rules Series Book 5) (8 page)

“Carried away? You changed the whole fucking look.”

She bows her head shamefully. “I can fix it back.”

I flick my gaze at the screen before glaring back to her. “Hell no, you won’t fix it back. It’s badass and you’re going to work on it some more.”

Her eyes fly back to mine and she grins. “Shit! You’re an asshole. I thought you were going to fire me.”

I roll my eyes at her. “I’ll probably still fire you. Now, change that font to match the one over here and it’ll be perfect. I have to run home for the rest of the day.”

My life might be going to shit, but at least my website kicks ass.

As I unlock the front door, I’m met with eerie silence. Instantly, my heart thumps into overdrive against my chest.

“Andi?” I call out as I stalk toward our bedroom. When I enter the bedroom, I sigh a breath of relief to see her curled up on top of the covers. She’s still wearing the clothes she had on from earlier, and I’m so fucking glad to not see her in a nightgown.

Careful not to wake her, I quietly kick my shoes off and shrug out of my blazer. After untying the knot of my tie, I crawl into the bed behind her.

“Babe,” I whisper against the back of her head as I snuggle against her, “I love you no matter what.”

When she sniffles, I realize she isn’t asleep. My wife has been crying. Again.

“I’m sorry I was an ass earlier,” I murmur.

A ragged sob pierces the air, and I pull her tight against me.

“J-J-Jackson, I’m th-the ass,” she stutters through her tears, “I’m so sorry.”

“Come here,” I growl and help her roll over to face me. Leaning forward, I plant a kiss on her swollen, pink lips. “Did you eat anything?”

She shakes her head sadly. “I’m not hungry right now. I’m too upset. How could I have ruined that for us? I was just so angry at that little girl. Life’s not fair, Jackson.”

I swipe a stray tear and study her heartbroken face. “Babe, life is not fair. At all. But together, we’ll find a way. I just want you to be happy. Whatever it is that makes you happy, I’ll do it. If you think hummus and no sex is good for the baby, then I’ll eat that shit right there with you and get familiar with my hand again. If you want to just focus on this pregnancy and not look into adoption for a few more years, then that is exactly what I’ll do. I love you more than I could ever express with stupid words. Let’s just find a way to be happy. You’re in charge here. You just need to lead the way and I’ll follow.”

My beautiful wife smiles and it lights up the entire fucking room. “Thank you, Jackson. I think we should call the Grimeses back. My emotions got the best of me, but I do want to go forward with the adoption. Hopefully they’ll still consider us. And you know what else will make me happy?”

I raise an eyebrow at her and smirk. “My cock in your mouth?”

She giggles, “No, you animal! Tamales from El Juarez. Oh my God, I can practically taste them right now. My mouth is watering for them.”

This is music to my ears, but . . .”Are you sure you aren’t drooling over my cock?”

“I might want that for dessert,” she teases.

“How about for an appetizer?”

She swats at me and I grin. I place a chaste kiss on her lips before launching out of the bed to put my shoes on. I’m fucking hungry as hell and we’ve been eating entirely way too much healthy shit lately.

She slowly climbs out of bed and walk over to me. Her hair is a disheveled mess, she doesn’t have makeup on, and her clothes are now wrinkly as hell. But she looks like an angel.

My angel.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I mutter under my breath.

Her eyes fly up to mine and she searches them for any humor. There’s nothing funny about my words. They’re the honest-to-God truth.

“Jackson Compton, I’m lucky to have you.”

I give her a lopsided grin and stalk over to her to envelop her in my arms. She fits perfect. Together, we’re perfect.

“There’s no luck involved, baby. We were meant to be. Now, get your skinny ass in gear. I’m hungry.”

She laughs as we break apart. Once our shoes are on and she’s scooped her purse up, we make our way out of the loft and down to the street. When I guide her along the sidewalk, she looks up at me in confusion.

“Where’s George?”

I point up at the sunshine and grin. “I’m doing Dr. Sweeney’s homework. Walking a couple of blocks to the restaurant on a nice day is a completely nonsexual and healthy way to spend time with my wife. I’ll earn brownie points for sure.”

She smiles and, thankfully, doesn’t argue. Sitting up in the loft all day with no exercise can’t be good for her depression.

“Since when do you suck up to Dr. Sweeney?” she questions.

“Since it depends on the happiness of my wife.”

The answer seems to satisfy her, and we walk most of the distance in comfortable silence. But as we near the restaurant, she stops and looks up at me.

“Let’s call them. Right now. I want to do this, Jackson.”

I frown because I don’t want to ruin the contentedness of our moment with the stress of worrying over adoption. But the determined appearance on her face has me pulling my phone from my pocket. Then I dial Laura and put her on speaker.

“Hello?” she answers.

“Hi, Laura. Listen we’re really sorry about—” I begin, but Andi cuts me off.

“Laura, I’m an emotional mess today and I can’t apologize enough for the way I acted. Please reconsider us for adopting Jill’s baby,” she rushes out.

The line is silent for a moment, and I try not to cringe.

Finally, she speaks. “Jill was pretty upset, but mostly with herself. She’s struggling emotionally as well, Andi. Here. I think you two should talk.”

We hear some murmuring before Jill gets on the line. “Hi.”

In unison, Andi and I say, “Hi,” back.

“Do you want to name him?” Jill asks softly.

I watch a tear roll out of Andi’s eye as she nods. “Jill, we’d love that. That is very generous of you. I’m sorry I acted like a fool. This has just been a long, hard road for us.”

“It’s okay. Just tell me what you want to name him and I will start calling him that—so he knows his name when he comes out.”

Andi grins at me. “Uh, right. Let us think on it. Would you like to come over one day and see our home? Maybe I could fix you and your mom some lunch. We could just chat and get to know each other?”

This time, I’m the one grinning. The fact that she’s stepping out of her bubble brings so much joy into my heart. I’m starting to believe we can make this work.

“Mom? Can we do that?” she asks her mother, reminding me that she herself is only a child. “She said yes. Text your address and we’ll come by tomorrow at lunch.”

“Thank you, Jill.”

“You’re welcome, Andi.”

They hang up and Andi hugs my middle. On the crowded sidewalk, I squeeze her back and stroke her hair.

“We’re going to be a family,” she cries into my chest as if suddenly understanding what just happened over the phone.

“Babe, we already are.”

Twenty-Two Weeks Pregnant

“Where do you want me to put this ugly Harry Potter lamp?” Jill questions from the corner of the nursery.

My eyes fly over to where she’s holding up one of Jackson’s newest Internet finds. “Ugh. The trash?” I groan.

She giggles, and I smile back. It’s been a month since we agreed to adopt Jill’s baby. All of the necessary paperwork has been drawn up by our attorneys and signed off on by a judge. In a couple of weeks or so, we’ll be welcoming him into our family. We’re incredibly thankful for her gift to us.

“Just kidding. You can set it on the end table between the cribs,” I instruct.

Since the babies will be so close together, mine being born only about three months after hers, we decided to put the beds in the same room. We’re going to need to think about moving soon because we’re very quickly outgrowing our loft.

“Ouch,” she whimpers, and I quickly stand to see what’s going on, ignoring my own ache that stretches across the side of my abdomen.

“Are you okay?” I question.

“I think I’m having another Braxton Hicks contraction. Those things are so annoying,” she complains.

“Come on. Let’s go take a break.” I motion for her to follow me into the kitchen.

While we may not see eye to eye on everything, Jill and I have grown rather close. I feel protective over her—not just because she’s carrying the baby that will soon be mine, but also because she’s like a little sister to me now.

“I can make us some lunch. What do you feel like having?” I question. I must be hungry and overworked because my skin suddenly feels flushed and I think I might pass out. We’ve worked too long since breakfast. I need food and soon.

“Pizza,” she tries with a laugh, but it’s cut short when she has another pain. “Ow!”

“Jill, are you sure you’re having Braxton Hicks? Maybe you should go lie down on the couch,” I say before nervously chewing on my lip.

The ache in my own belly now starts to worry me. As she waddles over to the couch, I find my phone and call my husband.

“Hey, beautiful,” he answers in the deep timbre that always makes my knees go weak.

“Can you come home? Jill is having sharp pains and I’m not feeling so hot either, Jackson. Please,” I whine.

“Shit. Of course. I’ll call Laura and will be there in fifteen minutes,” he replies urgently before hanging up.