Creed
Page 98
“It doesn’t say anything about shaking. It just says one to three minutes. How long has it been?” I asked.
“Well, definitely over one minute but not over three.”
Shit.
I dropped the leaflet and stared at the stick.
A plus sign showed.
Holy shit.
I was pregnant.
Holy shit!
I was pregnant!
“I’m pregnant,” I whispered.
Silence then more silence then a soft sob.
“Charlene,” I said gently, “I need to go tell Creed.”
“Go. Go make a good man happy,” she replied quietly.
Right on.
A fabulous way to start the day. Making a good man happy.
Better, he was my man.
“Love you, babe,” I told Charlene.
“Love you too, Sylvie,” she told me.
I beeped off my phone, put it on the bathroom counter and wandered into the bedroom, down the hall and to the kitchen.
Creed’s back was to me, bare, his tat on display, his h*ps and legs encased in faded jeans.
God, he was hot.
He obviously heard me coming because he asked the inside of the fridge, “Cocoa Puffs or are you gonna join me in eggs and bacon?”
“You should always be ready,” I told him.
He closed the door instantly and turned.
I tossed the stick across the kitchen and he caught it.
I watched him look at it.
I watched his body still.
And finally, I watched his head come up and his eyes lock on me.
“Dreamweaver,” he whispered.
“You bet your ass,” I replied, smiling huge and not even close to whispering.
He dropped the stick on the counter and started stalking toward me.
I started backing up, sharing, “Creed, I peed on that.”
“Later, I’ll get the Windex out.”
Good call.
He kept stalking.
I kept backing up.
Finally, he lunged and I turned and ran.
He caught me two feet from the bed, tackling me and we both went down on the mattress.
This time, there were no rose petals.
Still, it was awesome.
Then again, it always was.
* * * * *
One month later…
“Partner, this sitting in the getaway car is for the birds,” I said, my voice going straight to Creed’s earpiece.
“Shut up, Sylvie, I’m breaking and entering,” Creed said back, his deep, smooth yet rough voice filling the cab of the Expedition.
“I’m just saying, next B&E job, I get to do the B&E,” I declared.
“You can do the next B&E that happens when you aren’t pregnant or nursing,” he replied and I blinked.
Then I snapped, “I’m not nursing! Nothing latches onto one of my br**sts except your lips.”
“Now she’s making me hard while I’m breaking and entering,” Creed griped.
“We’re talking about breast feeding, Creed,” I returned.
“We’re talking about my lips and your tits, Sylvie,” he shot back.
He had a point.
I shut up.
Then I waited, staring at the building Creed was breaking into waiting for an alarm or a siren or anything while scanning to make sure he continued to have privacy, no cars or passersby.
There was nothing.
Ten minutes later, I saw his shadow jogging toward the Expedition.
Not surprisingly, it jogged to the driver’s side.
He pulled open my door and ordered, “Scoot. I drive.”
“Other side, Creed. You got to break in. I get to drive.”
“Baby, scoot,” he clipped.
“I’m not moving.”
“It’s one o’clock in the morning and I just nabbed a hard drive with stolen formulas that are patent pending and worth seven hundred million dollars and now I’m standing by a truck arguing with my woman. Seriously?” he asked.
“Other side, Creed,” I answered then he moved, swiftly, and I found my seatbelt was unfastened and my cowboy booted feet on the ground.
I glared up at him.
He angled into the truck and looked down at me.
“Other side, Sylvie.”
“You’re a pain in my ass,” I hissed.
“Right back at ‘cha, baby.”
I narrowed my eyes.
Then I stomped to the other side and dragged myself in.
“Let’s roll,” I snapped.
Creed rolled.
I scowled as the landscape passed by.
Then I announced, “I’m putting out my own shingle. You’re too bossy.”
“You’re welcome to do that, Sylvie, when you’re not pregnant or nursing.”
“I’m not nursing!” I bit out.
“We’ll see,” he muttered.
I rolled my eyes.
Creed turned on the radio then switched it to news.
I immediately leaned forward and switched it to country.
“Pain in my ass,” he murmured.
“Bite me,” I replied.
Silence.
Then Creed burst out laughing.
I was in a bad mood but, still, I liked that sound so much, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.
But I did it with my head turned to the side window so Creed couldn’t see.
* * * * *
Five months later…
The lady behind Bashas’ bakery counter handed Creed the bag of donuts.
I snatched it out of his hand, opened it, pulled out the chocolate covered, chocolate buttercream filled donut, opened my mouth huge, shoved in as much donut as I could get, bit down and chewed.
Creed stared down at me.
I stared up at him and chewed.
Creed looked to the bakery lady.
“She’s eating for two,” he shared.
Her eyes went down to my enormous belly then they went back to Creed.
“This was not lost on me,” she replied.
I swallowed and shoved more donut in.
“Give us another of those, would you?” Creed asked.
“On it,” she muttered.
My Creed.
Totally genius.
I shoved more donut in and Creed looked back at me.
Through donut, I announced, “While we’re here, we need to pick up some Snickers.”
Creed blinked.
Then he tagged me behind the head, forced me to do a face plant in his chest and burst out laughing.
* * * * *
Four months later…
“I feel the hot coming through my shoes,” Kara and Brand’s cousin whined.
My eyes swept to Kara and Brand.
Kara was looking at me, lips twitching.
Brand was pressing his together, probably so he wouldn’t say anything.
He lost this fight and opened his mouth but not a word came out before…
“Well, definitely over one minute but not over three.”
Shit.
I dropped the leaflet and stared at the stick.
A plus sign showed.
Holy shit.
I was pregnant.
Holy shit!
I was pregnant!
“I’m pregnant,” I whispered.
Silence then more silence then a soft sob.
“Charlene,” I said gently, “I need to go tell Creed.”
“Go. Go make a good man happy,” she replied quietly.
Right on.
A fabulous way to start the day. Making a good man happy.
Better, he was my man.
“Love you, babe,” I told Charlene.
“Love you too, Sylvie,” she told me.
I beeped off my phone, put it on the bathroom counter and wandered into the bedroom, down the hall and to the kitchen.
Creed’s back was to me, bare, his tat on display, his h*ps and legs encased in faded jeans.
God, he was hot.
He obviously heard me coming because he asked the inside of the fridge, “Cocoa Puffs or are you gonna join me in eggs and bacon?”
“You should always be ready,” I told him.
He closed the door instantly and turned.
I tossed the stick across the kitchen and he caught it.
I watched him look at it.
I watched his body still.
And finally, I watched his head come up and his eyes lock on me.
“Dreamweaver,” he whispered.
“You bet your ass,” I replied, smiling huge and not even close to whispering.
He dropped the stick on the counter and started stalking toward me.
I started backing up, sharing, “Creed, I peed on that.”
“Later, I’ll get the Windex out.”
Good call.
He kept stalking.
I kept backing up.
Finally, he lunged and I turned and ran.
He caught me two feet from the bed, tackling me and we both went down on the mattress.
This time, there were no rose petals.
Still, it was awesome.
Then again, it always was.
* * * * *
One month later…
“Partner, this sitting in the getaway car is for the birds,” I said, my voice going straight to Creed’s earpiece.
“Shut up, Sylvie, I’m breaking and entering,” Creed said back, his deep, smooth yet rough voice filling the cab of the Expedition.
“I’m just saying, next B&E job, I get to do the B&E,” I declared.
“You can do the next B&E that happens when you aren’t pregnant or nursing,” he replied and I blinked.
Then I snapped, “I’m not nursing! Nothing latches onto one of my br**sts except your lips.”
“Now she’s making me hard while I’m breaking and entering,” Creed griped.
“We’re talking about breast feeding, Creed,” I returned.
“We’re talking about my lips and your tits, Sylvie,” he shot back.
He had a point.
I shut up.
Then I waited, staring at the building Creed was breaking into waiting for an alarm or a siren or anything while scanning to make sure he continued to have privacy, no cars or passersby.
There was nothing.
Ten minutes later, I saw his shadow jogging toward the Expedition.
Not surprisingly, it jogged to the driver’s side.
He pulled open my door and ordered, “Scoot. I drive.”
“Other side, Creed. You got to break in. I get to drive.”
“Baby, scoot,” he clipped.
“I’m not moving.”
“It’s one o’clock in the morning and I just nabbed a hard drive with stolen formulas that are patent pending and worth seven hundred million dollars and now I’m standing by a truck arguing with my woman. Seriously?” he asked.
“Other side, Creed,” I answered then he moved, swiftly, and I found my seatbelt was unfastened and my cowboy booted feet on the ground.
I glared up at him.
He angled into the truck and looked down at me.
“Other side, Sylvie.”
“You’re a pain in my ass,” I hissed.
“Right back at ‘cha, baby.”
I narrowed my eyes.
Then I stomped to the other side and dragged myself in.
“Let’s roll,” I snapped.
Creed rolled.
I scowled as the landscape passed by.
Then I announced, “I’m putting out my own shingle. You’re too bossy.”
“You’re welcome to do that, Sylvie, when you’re not pregnant or nursing.”
“I’m not nursing!” I bit out.
“We’ll see,” he muttered.
I rolled my eyes.
Creed turned on the radio then switched it to news.
I immediately leaned forward and switched it to country.
“Pain in my ass,” he murmured.
“Bite me,” I replied.
Silence.
Then Creed burst out laughing.
I was in a bad mood but, still, I liked that sound so much, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.
But I did it with my head turned to the side window so Creed couldn’t see.
* * * * *
Five months later…
The lady behind Bashas’ bakery counter handed Creed the bag of donuts.
I snatched it out of his hand, opened it, pulled out the chocolate covered, chocolate buttercream filled donut, opened my mouth huge, shoved in as much donut as I could get, bit down and chewed.
Creed stared down at me.
I stared up at him and chewed.
Creed looked to the bakery lady.
“She’s eating for two,” he shared.
Her eyes went down to my enormous belly then they went back to Creed.
“This was not lost on me,” she replied.
I swallowed and shoved more donut in.
“Give us another of those, would you?” Creed asked.
“On it,” she muttered.
My Creed.
Totally genius.
I shoved more donut in and Creed looked back at me.
Through donut, I announced, “While we’re here, we need to pick up some Snickers.”
Creed blinked.
Then he tagged me behind the head, forced me to do a face plant in his chest and burst out laughing.
* * * * *
Four months later…
“I feel the hot coming through my shoes,” Kara and Brand’s cousin whined.
My eyes swept to Kara and Brand.
Kara was looking at me, lips twitching.
Brand was pressing his together, probably so he wouldn’t say anything.
He lost this fight and opened his mouth but not a word came out before…
