Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Baptist.” I sit in the chair next to him and order a club soda with lime.
“Not drinking tonight?”
“Keeping my wits about me.” But mostly I can’t because I’m pregnant with your baby. “Something in the way you’re looking at me suggests I should.”
He laughs and tilts his head. “You shouldn’t tease. You know it only makes me feel as though I have license to say all the things I’ve kept bottled up.”
“Like what?”
“Jokes about your lips, mainly.”
“My lips?”
“Mouth, tongue, teeth. That region.”
“Sounds awful. I’m glad you’ve kept it to yourself.”
He takes a sip and shakes his head. “No, Webb. It’s not awful at all.”
I shiver as my drink arrives and take a sip. Baptist is studying me closely and I know what he’s thinking. I’m dressed up and looking better than I’ve looked since the wedding, and he knows damn well why. I’ve kept to ponytails, messy buns, sweats, and sneakers, mostly because I can’t stand the way he looks at me and I don’t want to make it worse.
Like it is right now.
I should’ve come here wearing that nightgown Cowan’s aunt had on.
“All right, Webb. You tell me how things went with Cowan, and I’ll sit here and enjoy looking at you in that dress.”
“Prick.” I close my eyes, sigh, and give him the rundown. He listens intently and only glances down at my body a few times, which is better than I expected. When I finish, he seems angry all over again.
“We have to stop this. He knew that unstable old bat was in that house.”
“We could’ve knocked, you know.”
“Webb, don’t defend him. He fucking knew.”
“You really think he’s that much of a mastermind?”
He shakes his head and takes a long sip. “I think he’s that much of a gambler. With his own life and the lives of those around him.”
“We’re fine though.”
“Barely. I told you I wouldn’t put you in danger, and I meant it.”
“We’re not walking away.” I stare at my drink, working on the courage I need to broach the subject. I want to do it—I really want to do it. Not just because it’s the right thing to do, but because I believe it’s the right thing. Even still, the idea of saying the words out loud, of telling Baptist that I’m pregnant with his baby, feels like the most terrifying thing I could do.
“No, we’re not.”
That surprises me. I expected him to argue with me again, but he’s staring intently in my eyes with a look I don’t quite recognize. It’s intense, like he’s working through something internally, and he holds my gaze for another moment before turning away and taking another long sip.
“What changed?”
“I thought about what you said in the car.” He hesitates, searching of the words. “About wanting something.”
I didn’t expect this at all. I lean closer to hear him over the sound of other people talking. “What do you want, Baptist?”
“You know my background. My father owned the Keswick Theater for years until he sold it to the Crawford family. All those years, I stood backstage with my old man and watched the acts, from the singers to the comedians to the rock bands, and I decided I wanted to do that one day. I wanted to get up there and entertain. I wanted to be so talented I could fill a theater with people and keep them engrossed in me for hours. I was desperate for it back then, but as I got older, I realized I don’t have the talent.”
I don’t know what to say. It’s not all that uncommon—a lot of people in our business started out wanting to be on the artist side of things—but I had no clue Baptist felt that way.
“What happened?”
“Life happened. I grew up, went to school, met Ansell. I joined Drake Entertainment and realized I could still fulfill my dream, only in a way I never pictured before. That’s what we’re doing here, Webb. That’s why I won’t walk away from Cowan if you don’t want to.” He looks at me then, his gaze heady and serious, and I’m leaning so close that I can smell him, musky and sweet, his breath glazed with whiskey and mint. “But the moment you’re done, I’ll walk away. I’m serious, Webb. The second you don’t want to put yourself through this shit anymore, we’re through.”
“You’d give up what you want for me?”
“I’d give up Cowan, but I won’t give up you.”
I open my mouth to say something. I open it to tell him that I’m pregnant, that I’m carrying his baby and I don’t know what I’m going to do about it, but there are no words.
Instead, I lean closer, and I kiss him.
Chapter 9
Blair
It’s stupid. It’s about the dumbest thing I could do. Kissing him right now is only going to make everything so much more complicated, and we can’t deal with complicated, not with Cowan’s eccentricities making everything infinitely more difficult and my looming pregnancy.