How About No
Page 46
“At the hospital?” he asked warily. “What in the hell would be there that I would need to pick up?”
I rolled my eyes. “Why can’t you just drive me there?”
“And why did we have to take the truck?” he grumbled. “I hate driving the truck when it’s such nice weather outside.”
I sighed in exasperation. “Seriously, what in the fuck is your problem?”
I knew what his problem was.
He’d been in a bad mood since the delivery of that baby a few days ago. He’d been acting like an angry bull ever since.
“Nothing,” he grumbled, going stoically silent for the rest of the ride.
I kept my smile in check and directed him where to go.
“There,” I said, pointing. “Where that cart and all those balloons are. With the big box. There.”
Wade did as I said.
“What’s in the box?” he asked, pushing the door open.
I looked out the open car window to see Shiloh Allen, the CPS agent that I knew well, standing there smiling wide.
“A car seat,” Shiloh answered him.
I got out of the car at the same time that a mini-van pulled up behind us.
Minnie and Porter.
Perfect timing.
“Mom?” Wade stopped beside all the flowers. “What the fuck?”
That’s when the screaming of an infant broke the quiet morning air, causing us all to turn and stare at a nurse who was rolling out a baby—who was being held by Castiel in a wheelchair.
Wade frowned.
“I don’t know what’s going on right now.”
“You’re being deliberately obtuse, son.” Porter strolled around the van and opened the car door. It was then that the two-year-old, with his healing bruises and a cup of chocolate milk, was revealed. “And I think it all has to do with the fact that you’re too afraid to hope.”
Wade turned to me, and a look of such hope and pleading entered his eyes that I felt like a big piece of crap for thinking to deny my man anything because of my insecurities.
“Landry,” Wade whispered.
I smiled as I felt tears form in my eyes. “We’re only their foster parents for now, but Shiloh has already started on the paperwork for the adoption process. In three to six months, they’ll officially be ours.”
Wade dropped his head and contemplated his feet for a few long seconds before lifting it back up and staring at me with unaltered happiness in his eyes. “This is the fourth best day of my life.”
I smiled.
“What was the first?” Castiel asked as he stood up, eyes wide and a little freaked out.
Bayou, who’d come from somewhere in the parking lot, started to rip into the box that was holding the car seat.
In a matter of moments, he had it all unwrapped and headed to our truck.
“The day that I married her,” Wade answered. “And before you ask the next two, it was the day I met her, and then the day I found out that we were still married that fill out the other two.”
Tears tipped over the edge and started to streak down my face.
“Here,” Castiel said when the baby started to really belt out her frustration. “I can’t deal with this.”
Wade didn’t hesitate.
He walked over to Cass, picked the baby up in his arms, and then cuddled her up to his big, muscular chest.
I felt something clog my throat at the sight.
“We’ll just leave this big guy in our car on the way home,” Porter said. “We’ll transfer over the seat and the shit—I mean stuff—when we get to your place.”
“Car seat is in,” Bayou rumbled.
“Perfect!” Shiloh clapped. “I have a lot of stuff in this box here for y’all. Formula, diapers, clothes. Donations of all kinds that should hold you through the day. I’m so excited for y’all.”
I looked over at my longtime friend.
I’d had to call her twice now since I’d started to run my own daycare, and I never thought I’d see the day that she’d be giving me a gift such as this.
Wade moved until he was standing directly in front of me, his eyes so intently focused on mine that I could practically feel his emotions.
“You just made my life, woman.”
I stood up on tippy toes, one hand going to his chest, and the other going to the little girl’s tiny back and pressed my lips to his.
“It’s only fair since you made mine, too.”
I rolled my eyes. “Why can’t you just drive me there?”
“And why did we have to take the truck?” he grumbled. “I hate driving the truck when it’s such nice weather outside.”
I sighed in exasperation. “Seriously, what in the fuck is your problem?”
I knew what his problem was.
He’d been in a bad mood since the delivery of that baby a few days ago. He’d been acting like an angry bull ever since.
“Nothing,” he grumbled, going stoically silent for the rest of the ride.
I kept my smile in check and directed him where to go.
“There,” I said, pointing. “Where that cart and all those balloons are. With the big box. There.”
Wade did as I said.
“What’s in the box?” he asked, pushing the door open.
I looked out the open car window to see Shiloh Allen, the CPS agent that I knew well, standing there smiling wide.
“A car seat,” Shiloh answered him.
I got out of the car at the same time that a mini-van pulled up behind us.
Minnie and Porter.
Perfect timing.
“Mom?” Wade stopped beside all the flowers. “What the fuck?”
That’s when the screaming of an infant broke the quiet morning air, causing us all to turn and stare at a nurse who was rolling out a baby—who was being held by Castiel in a wheelchair.
Wade frowned.
“I don’t know what’s going on right now.”
“You’re being deliberately obtuse, son.” Porter strolled around the van and opened the car door. It was then that the two-year-old, with his healing bruises and a cup of chocolate milk, was revealed. “And I think it all has to do with the fact that you’re too afraid to hope.”
Wade turned to me, and a look of such hope and pleading entered his eyes that I felt like a big piece of crap for thinking to deny my man anything because of my insecurities.
“Landry,” Wade whispered.
I smiled as I felt tears form in my eyes. “We’re only their foster parents for now, but Shiloh has already started on the paperwork for the adoption process. In three to six months, they’ll officially be ours.”
Wade dropped his head and contemplated his feet for a few long seconds before lifting it back up and staring at me with unaltered happiness in his eyes. “This is the fourth best day of my life.”
I smiled.
“What was the first?” Castiel asked as he stood up, eyes wide and a little freaked out.
Bayou, who’d come from somewhere in the parking lot, started to rip into the box that was holding the car seat.
In a matter of moments, he had it all unwrapped and headed to our truck.
“The day that I married her,” Wade answered. “And before you ask the next two, it was the day I met her, and then the day I found out that we were still married that fill out the other two.”
Tears tipped over the edge and started to streak down my face.
“Here,” Castiel said when the baby started to really belt out her frustration. “I can’t deal with this.”
Wade didn’t hesitate.
He walked over to Cass, picked the baby up in his arms, and then cuddled her up to his big, muscular chest.
I felt something clog my throat at the sight.
“We’ll just leave this big guy in our car on the way home,” Porter said. “We’ll transfer over the seat and the shit—I mean stuff—when we get to your place.”
“Car seat is in,” Bayou rumbled.
“Perfect!” Shiloh clapped. “I have a lot of stuff in this box here for y’all. Formula, diapers, clothes. Donations of all kinds that should hold you through the day. I’m so excited for y’all.”
I looked over at my longtime friend.
I’d had to call her twice now since I’d started to run my own daycare, and I never thought I’d see the day that she’d be giving me a gift such as this.
Wade moved until he was standing directly in front of me, his eyes so intently focused on mine that I could practically feel his emotions.
“You just made my life, woman.”
I stood up on tippy toes, one hand going to his chest, and the other going to the little girl’s tiny back and pressed my lips to his.
“It’s only fair since you made mine, too.”
