Page 143 of Duke
“You all right?” I pull her in for a hug.
She nods against my chest. “Yeah. I went back to the New House and spent some time with Mom and Haines. They love you.”
“Your mom okay? Your dad is…interesting.”
“Mom hasn’t been okay in thirty years, but she’s surviving.” Wheeler sighs. “We all are. I’m excited for dinner.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
She laughs. “Correction: I’m excited to eat the food you’re making. Already smells good in here. Thank you.”
“For what? Making you food?” I scoff. “Kinda my job, sweetheart.”
“And for pretending to enjoy my family’s company. I know they’re painful.”
“More painful for you.”
She nods again. “Sometimes I miss them. Other times, I…well, I don’t.” Looking up, she meets my eyes. “Makes me appreciate having you and your family that much more. What y’all have here is special, Duke.”
I brush her hair out of her face. “You’re special too. You survived twenty-seven years with your family. You can make it through dinner too.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely. Don’t forget you also have the best excuse to, ah, excuse yourself from dinner if you need to. Once they know I knocked you up, you can do whatever the hell you want.”
She grins. “I know.”
“Go get ready.” I give her ass a gentle slap. “I got everything handled.”
I finish the food, double-check that the table outside is properly set, and light a fire.
It’s all ready.
Cracking open a beer, I decide to relax on the couch in the hopes my nerves don’t overwhelm me. I’m careful not to wrinkle the button-up I ironed earlier as I sit heavily on the cushions and turn on the TV.
I keep the volume low enough so that I can still hear Wheeler in the bathroom. There’s something comforting about the sounds that are slowly but surely becoming familiar: the water slapping on the shower floor, the blow dryer, the music she plays on her phone while she puts on her makeup. Tonight, she’s listening to The Lumineers. I don’t mind that one bit.
After a while, I hear her emerge from the bathroom. Looking up, my mouth goes dry. Dick perks up.
I can only stare. She looks like a fucking bombshell with her red lips and curly hair. She’s wearing a pretty blue dress with tiny straps and a neckline low enough to get me going. Even though the dress is long, hitting her midshin, I can still see how hot those high heels she’s wearing make her legs look.
Her toenails—those are red too. I’m hit by the image of Wheeler seated on the bathroom floor, her head bent as she teaches our little girl how to painthertoes.
Shit, now I really can’t breathe.
Wheeler grins. “Hey, baby.”
God, I fucking love it when she calls me that.
“Blue.”
Raising her brows, she waits for me to finish the thought. Her grin becomes a smile. “You all right there, cowboy?”
“You’re feelin’muchbetter.”
She nods. “Amazing what a shower and some nail polish can do for your mood.”
I set my empty beer bottle on the coffee table and stand.
