Page 53 of Accidental Groom
But the way she’s looking up at me, as if my touching her is enough to make her weak, sends my pulse skittering.
I turn her head slightly, lean down, and press a kiss just beneath where her ear meets her neck, so soft it’s almost nothing. Her hands clench around my jacket, her cheeks flushing deep red. I pretend not to notice.
“Come on,” I say, my lips tipping up at the corner. “Baby shopping awaits.”
I lead her down 5th Avenue, Central Park disappearing behind us to our right as we cross into Midtown proper. The store in question is one she’s been talking about all week — if sending me links to every single thing she wants to buy from there counts as “talking about.”
Inside, the store is all white marble and soft lighting. It’s the kind of place that sells strollers for thousands of dollars and cashmere onesies the kid will outgrow in a matter of weeks, not months, and the sales associate zeroes in on us immediately.
“Can I help you two?” she asks, grinning wide. Her high ponytail swishes behind her head as she comes to a stop beside us.
“We’re just browsing for now,” I answer, my hand sliding along Elena’s waist until it’s wrapped around her. She tenses again. “We’ll let you know if there’s anything we’re after.”
“Of course,” the girl chirps. “My name’s Rebecca. Just shout if you need something.”
Elena gives her a nod, but her smile is thin.
I lead her down an aisle filled with bassinets that look more like they belong in a museum than a baby store. She pauses beside one with walnut legs and cream linen lining, the edges carved into intricate mermaids and fish.
“Online, these all seemed so…” Elena starts, her brows furrowing. “Shit, what’s the word?”
“Luxurious? Lavish? Opulent?” I offer.
Her nose crinkles. “Yeah. Those. And now it just seems gaudy.”
I snort, tucking her into my side. “They do look gaudy,” I say, dragging my hand along the plush cream. “Would look better ten times bigger, with you in it.”
She laughs, shoving at my chest to break free from me. “Behave.”
I don’t.
My hand finds her again, curling a little more insistently around her hip and dragging her back to me, grinning down at her. “What, you don’t like it when I touch you in public?”
Her eyes roll. “Don’t act like you’ve been touching me this much at home. You’re oddly affectionate today.”
“Tell me to stop then.”
She shoots me a glare but doesn’t say the words.
As we move from aisle to aisle, I stay close, closer than I usually would, with my hand on her arm, her back, the curve of her hip. I watch how people look at us, not all with disapproval — some just curious. She’s young, glowing, pregnant — though that one’s less obvious, even in a baby store. But I’m not blind. I know how it looks.
I just don’tcaretoday.
This baby is real. She’s real. She’s mine, at least for now. They both are.
“George used to scream bloody murder every time I tried to change him,” I say absently, lifting a designer diaper bag that doesn’t have a price tag but definitely costs more than a used car. “Once peed directly in my face. First week home. Nearly swore off fatherhood right then and there.”
Elena chuckles, her cheeks still rosy pink. “So this is your redemption arc.”
I grin at her. “Something like that.”
Her smile falters, just a little, and I pause. I can seesomethingthere, something that isn’t quite right, but I can’t place it.
“You okay?” I ask.
She nods quickly. Too quickly. “Just tired. And this place is ridiculous.” She holds up a tiny toy sports car, the price tag dangling from it reading at least four figures, and pulls a face. “Jesus. Let’s just buy stuff from Target like normal people.”
A bark of laughter threatens to spill out of my mouth, but I hold it back, little snorts coming out of my nose instead as I cover my mouth with the side of my hand. “Target?”
