Page 56 of Sin Wagon
“Then what was it, Wells?” She crosses her arms and steps out onto the porch, letting the door close behind her.
“It was my older brother needing me. If I can’t even prevent your dad from going to jail and knowing you, why should I get to have you?” I can’t tear my gaze away from her piercing green eyes. “Jonas just met you, just found out about you. Now, he might be taken from you because of some psycho woman?”
“So what? If I can’t know my dad, then my baby doesn’t get to know you?”
Her words cut deep, and I flinch.
“That’s not what I meant.” I rub the back of my neck, feeling the weight of my mistakes. “But I guess it kinda sounds like that, huh?”
“It does. And while I understand your loyalty to your brother and your desire to help him, we are also your family now, Wells. Don’t make promises you can’t or won’t keep. I won’t have our child growing up with a sometimes present father. You’re in or you’re out.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.
“I’m in. I fucked up. I panicked and thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. Please, let me prove that to you.”
She studies me for a moment, her gaze softening slightly.
“Last chance. Don’t make me regret my choice. I’m following my heart and not my head and it better not bite me in the ass.”
“Your heart?” I smirk, stepping closer to her, hope blooming in my chest.
“Yeah. I like you Wells, a lot. But I won’t get treated like a second thought. Little Boba can be first, but that’s my only exception. Are we clear? I want to see where this goes. If we could work for us and the baby. I want us to have a real shot at being a family.”
“You’re sure?” I ask, needing to hear her say it again.
“Yes. This isn’t some ‘I grew up without a daddy, so I’m ready to get married so our baby has what I didn’t.’ You can and will be a part of Little Boba’s life, no matter what. I’ll repeat myself just once, so get your listening ears on. I like you, Wells Covington and I want to see if this,” she motions her hand between the two of us, “can be a real thing.”
The second she finishes her spiel, I grab the back of her neck and slam my lips to hers. The world seems to melt away as our mouths move together, exploring, tasting, and savoring each other. My hands slide down her sides, resting on her hips, feeling the warmth and fullness of her body pressed against me.
Delilah’s fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss. My tongue brushes against hers, and she moans softly, lost in our kiss.
I pull back slightly, my forehead resting against hers, both of us breathless. “I’ll come to Vegas,” I murmur, my eyes dark with passion. “Every week if you want me to.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me in for another searing kiss. Our bodies pressed together, the swell of her perfect pregnant belly a reminder of the life we created together.
The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more demanding. My hands roam over her body once more, memorizing every curve, every inch of her.
Finally, we pull apart, our breaths ragged and hearts pounding in unison. I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing against her cheeks.
“Like I told you in the text: there’s no need to come to Vegas,” she says softly. “I moved here. You’re standing on my front porch.”
“You’re serious? How? When?”
She throws her head back in a deep laugh as she holds her belly. “First, don’t make me laugh. I might pee a little. Your child is always on my bladder. And Rhonda. I texted her, upset that offering Derek the job with Covington Hotels was you manipulating me, and she called me back and said you had no idea.”
“I didn’t, I don’t.”
“I know. I believed your mom. She doesn’t strike me as the lying type. We had a heart to heart, and I decided to move with Derek.”
“For good?” I ask, hoping this isn’t some for the time being thing.
“For good.”
“So Derek is the new hire mom was talking about. Now I know why she suddenly wanted to have dinner here to introduce us. Sneaky woman. You’re right about the not lying, but she loves a good surprise.”
“Well, come in. Your mom brought dinner with her and I’m starving.” She opens the door and I follow her inside. We head in the direction of voices and I see my brother, Derek, and our parents seated at a table deep in discussion about the hotels.
All heads turn our way as we enter, and they go quiet, as if they’re expecting us to announce we’re good or something similar. The silence is thick, almost palpable, filled with anticipation. My pulse quickens. What do they want from us? Should we offer some grand statement?
