Stumbling into Love
Page 29
“Elizabeth, seriously, you look amazing, too,” I say to my friend.
Then I look up at Tex, who towers over her by at least a foot. “That dress shows off her long legs, and the red is beautiful on her. How hard was it for you to let her out of the house?”
“Hard.” He grins. Tex and Elizabeth met on an airplane going to London from JFK. When they arrived in London, they spent a week together. When they came back to the States, Tex moved from Texas to New York to be with her, and they’ve been together ever since. And now they are working on Tex’s football team—they’ve got three boys already, and a few weeks ago, Elizabeth told me that she’s pregnant again. She keeps trying for a girl—and Tex just keeps trying because he secretly loves Elizabeth pregnant.
“Here, gorgeous.” Wesley pulls out a chair for me, and I take a seat, then rest my hand on my own flat stomach. “You have that look I hate,” he says close to my ear.
I turn to look at him. “What look?”
His fingers touch my chin, then run across my jaw. “The one that says you’re about to run on me.”
“I’m not going to run.” I take his hand off my chin and twine our fingers together. “I promise.”
“You better not.”
“I won’t.” I smile and he leans in, kissing me softly.
Sitting back, I take a breath to steady myself. Bonnie’s ring catches my attention, and I can’t help but admire it again. It’s beautiful, with one large, center diamond that’s somewhat elevated above the rest of the stones that drip down the band.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Bonnie asks, holding it up.
I meet her gaze and nod, giving her a smile.
“It’s really beautiful. He did a good job.”
“I know.” She turns her hand from side to side. “It’s a little small, but Edward promised that when he makes his first million, he’ll get me a new one.”
“Oh . . .” I try not to frown.
Edward shifts like he’s uncomfortable. Not that I can blame him. His fiancée just said that the ring he gave her isn’t good enough. Maybe they deserve each other.
“So, Wesley, tell us a little about yourself. What do you do for a living?” Edward cuts in to break the awkward moment.
“I’m a detective with the NYPD,” Wesley answers, sitting back and undoing the button on his tux jacket.
“He actually works with Fawn’s fiancé, Levi,” I explain, covering his hand with mine on the top of the table.
“Is that how you two met?” Elizabeth asks.
I feel a blush spread up my neck and cheeks.
“No, we actually met before we knew about that connection,” I say.
She squints her eyes at me, and I shift uncomfortably.
“It seems like there is a story there. You need to come over for wine so you can fill me in on all the dirty details,” Elizabeth says.
I smile at her. “I know! Plus, I need to see the boys—I haven’t seen them in ages.”
“We’ll make a date.”
“Gorgeous, dance with me.” Wesley cuts into the conversation and stands suddenly. I tip my head back to look at him and instantly register the look on his face.
“We’ll be back.” I smile at everyone at the table as he pulls out my chair, then let him lead me out to the dance floor. I smile at the other couples, then rest both my hands against his chest and look up at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Besides Edward looking at your tits every five seconds, that chick tried to feel me up under the table.”
“What?” I shout, stopping in place. Looking around his shoulder and back toward the table, I narrow my eyes at Bonnie when our gaze locks.
Forcing me to move along with him, he holds me tighter. “The first time it happened, I thought it was an accident. Then it happened again.”
“That’s . . . that’s . . . I don’t know what that is. Rude just doesn’t cover it.”
I look over at the table again. Both Edward and Bonnie are looking at us, but Tex and Elizabeth are busy making googley-eyes at each other. Glaring at Bonnie, I see her frown before Wesley forces me to look at him.
“I can’t believe that she would hit on you when I’m sitting right there.”
“Don’t think about it.” He wraps his hand around my jaw, then lowers his mouth to mine. The kiss is soft and sweet, and it does exactly what I need it to—forget about everyone around us. When he pulls his mouth from mine, I smile. “Better?”
“Yes.” I rest my temple to his shoulder. “I didn’t know you knew how to dance.”
“This isn’t dancing; this is swaying. The moment they put on dance music, you’ll see my moves.”
“I can’t wait.” I laugh and close my eyes, swaying with him until it’s announced that dinner is being served.
We go back to the table. Thankfully, Bonnie keeps her hands to herself, and the rest of the dinner goes by without incident. After dinner, we spend most of the night on the dance floor, where Wesley proves that he’s not a liar. He can dance—and well.
Getting into the back of the cab a few hours later, I’m all danced out. I can’t stop smiling.
“Did you have a good night, gorgeous?” Wesley asks after shutting the door.
“Yes, and I learned something new about you,” I say as the cab pulls away from the curb and into traffic. “You are really good at dancing. If they ever have a Dancing with the Stars NYPD edition, I think you should try out.”
I yawn, and he laughs and kisses the top of my head.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you tired?”
“Very.” I yawn again. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, and I snuggle into his side.
Suddenly, the cab is jolted forward, and my body is tossed against the partition that separates us from the driver. My head and knees hit it hard. Wesley’s arm wraps around my waist, but a second impact comes, even worse than the first. He’s unable to keep me in his grasp as the car is jolted again. Glass rains down around us from my window as it shatters. Grabbing my head, I feel wetness on my fingertips.
“Are you okay?” His eyes scan me, and I nod my head.
“I think so. But . . .”
“Fuck.” He looks around, then settles me back against the seat. “Do not move.” He opens his door and gets out. My knees ache and my head is pounding, but with all that, my biggest concern right now is our baby.
Our baby that Wesley doesn’t know about.
“Wesley!” I call his name as he reaches into the backseat for me.
Helping me out, he looks me over once more, then inspects my forehead and the wound that is causing blood to run down my face and onto my chest and dress. Libby is going to kill me.
“Hold on, gorgeous. I want to get you safely across the street. Okay?” I shake my head no. “I promise it will be okay. I know you’re bleeding, but it’s just a small scrape. I promise, it’s small.” He picks me up and moves quickly through the cars that are now piled up in the middle of the road.
“Wesley . . .”
“Here you are.” He heads toward a bench at an empty bus stop, then helps me sit.
From my new vantage point, I can see the full scene of the accident. Two cars hit our cab—one in the back and one on the side. The yellow cab is not just wrecked, it’s totaled.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back. Don’t move. Just keep pressure on your head,” he says, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders.
“Wesley!” I repeat once more as he puts his cell phone to his ear.
“I’ll be right back.” He kisses my forehead, then stands.
Completely frustrated with him, I shout, “I’m pregnant!”
Even being in the middle of a busy intersection with police sirens off in the distance blaring as they race toward us, and people who have stopped on the sidewalks to take in the accident—even with all that, I know that if I had a pin to drop, I would have heard it. It was like the air went still, and all the people froze just like in those superhero movies when everything stops, even the bullets in midair.
Then I look up at Tex, who towers over her by at least a foot. “That dress shows off her long legs, and the red is beautiful on her. How hard was it for you to let her out of the house?”
“Hard.” He grins. Tex and Elizabeth met on an airplane going to London from JFK. When they arrived in London, they spent a week together. When they came back to the States, Tex moved from Texas to New York to be with her, and they’ve been together ever since. And now they are working on Tex’s football team—they’ve got three boys already, and a few weeks ago, Elizabeth told me that she’s pregnant again. She keeps trying for a girl—and Tex just keeps trying because he secretly loves Elizabeth pregnant.
“Here, gorgeous.” Wesley pulls out a chair for me, and I take a seat, then rest my hand on my own flat stomach. “You have that look I hate,” he says close to my ear.
I turn to look at him. “What look?”
His fingers touch my chin, then run across my jaw. “The one that says you’re about to run on me.”
“I’m not going to run.” I take his hand off my chin and twine our fingers together. “I promise.”
“You better not.”
“I won’t.” I smile and he leans in, kissing me softly.
Sitting back, I take a breath to steady myself. Bonnie’s ring catches my attention, and I can’t help but admire it again. It’s beautiful, with one large, center diamond that’s somewhat elevated above the rest of the stones that drip down the band.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Bonnie asks, holding it up.
I meet her gaze and nod, giving her a smile.
“It’s really beautiful. He did a good job.”
“I know.” She turns her hand from side to side. “It’s a little small, but Edward promised that when he makes his first million, he’ll get me a new one.”
“Oh . . .” I try not to frown.
Edward shifts like he’s uncomfortable. Not that I can blame him. His fiancée just said that the ring he gave her isn’t good enough. Maybe they deserve each other.
“So, Wesley, tell us a little about yourself. What do you do for a living?” Edward cuts in to break the awkward moment.
“I’m a detective with the NYPD,” Wesley answers, sitting back and undoing the button on his tux jacket.
“He actually works with Fawn’s fiancé, Levi,” I explain, covering his hand with mine on the top of the table.
“Is that how you two met?” Elizabeth asks.
I feel a blush spread up my neck and cheeks.
“No, we actually met before we knew about that connection,” I say.
She squints her eyes at me, and I shift uncomfortably.
“It seems like there is a story there. You need to come over for wine so you can fill me in on all the dirty details,” Elizabeth says.
I smile at her. “I know! Plus, I need to see the boys—I haven’t seen them in ages.”
“We’ll make a date.”
“Gorgeous, dance with me.” Wesley cuts into the conversation and stands suddenly. I tip my head back to look at him and instantly register the look on his face.
“We’ll be back.” I smile at everyone at the table as he pulls out my chair, then let him lead me out to the dance floor. I smile at the other couples, then rest both my hands against his chest and look up at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Besides Edward looking at your tits every five seconds, that chick tried to feel me up under the table.”
“What?” I shout, stopping in place. Looking around his shoulder and back toward the table, I narrow my eyes at Bonnie when our gaze locks.
Forcing me to move along with him, he holds me tighter. “The first time it happened, I thought it was an accident. Then it happened again.”
“That’s . . . that’s . . . I don’t know what that is. Rude just doesn’t cover it.”
I look over at the table again. Both Edward and Bonnie are looking at us, but Tex and Elizabeth are busy making googley-eyes at each other. Glaring at Bonnie, I see her frown before Wesley forces me to look at him.
“I can’t believe that she would hit on you when I’m sitting right there.”
“Don’t think about it.” He wraps his hand around my jaw, then lowers his mouth to mine. The kiss is soft and sweet, and it does exactly what I need it to—forget about everyone around us. When he pulls his mouth from mine, I smile. “Better?”
“Yes.” I rest my temple to his shoulder. “I didn’t know you knew how to dance.”
“This isn’t dancing; this is swaying. The moment they put on dance music, you’ll see my moves.”
“I can’t wait.” I laugh and close my eyes, swaying with him until it’s announced that dinner is being served.
We go back to the table. Thankfully, Bonnie keeps her hands to herself, and the rest of the dinner goes by without incident. After dinner, we spend most of the night on the dance floor, where Wesley proves that he’s not a liar. He can dance—and well.
Getting into the back of the cab a few hours later, I’m all danced out. I can’t stop smiling.
“Did you have a good night, gorgeous?” Wesley asks after shutting the door.
“Yes, and I learned something new about you,” I say as the cab pulls away from the curb and into traffic. “You are really good at dancing. If they ever have a Dancing with the Stars NYPD edition, I think you should try out.”
I yawn, and he laughs and kisses the top of my head.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you tired?”
“Very.” I yawn again. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, and I snuggle into his side.
Suddenly, the cab is jolted forward, and my body is tossed against the partition that separates us from the driver. My head and knees hit it hard. Wesley’s arm wraps around my waist, but a second impact comes, even worse than the first. He’s unable to keep me in his grasp as the car is jolted again. Glass rains down around us from my window as it shatters. Grabbing my head, I feel wetness on my fingertips.
“Are you okay?” His eyes scan me, and I nod my head.
“I think so. But . . .”
“Fuck.” He looks around, then settles me back against the seat. “Do not move.” He opens his door and gets out. My knees ache and my head is pounding, but with all that, my biggest concern right now is our baby.
Our baby that Wesley doesn’t know about.
“Wesley!” I call his name as he reaches into the backseat for me.
Helping me out, he looks me over once more, then inspects my forehead and the wound that is causing blood to run down my face and onto my chest and dress. Libby is going to kill me.
“Hold on, gorgeous. I want to get you safely across the street. Okay?” I shake my head no. “I promise it will be okay. I know you’re bleeding, but it’s just a small scrape. I promise, it’s small.” He picks me up and moves quickly through the cars that are now piled up in the middle of the road.
“Wesley . . .”
“Here you are.” He heads toward a bench at an empty bus stop, then helps me sit.
From my new vantage point, I can see the full scene of the accident. Two cars hit our cab—one in the back and one on the side. The yellow cab is not just wrecked, it’s totaled.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back. Don’t move. Just keep pressure on your head,” he says, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders.
“Wesley!” I repeat once more as he puts his cell phone to his ear.
“I’ll be right back.” He kisses my forehead, then stands.
Completely frustrated with him, I shout, “I’m pregnant!”
Even being in the middle of a busy intersection with police sirens off in the distance blaring as they race toward us, and people who have stopped on the sidewalks to take in the accident—even with all that, I know that if I had a pin to drop, I would have heard it. It was like the air went still, and all the people froze just like in those superhero movies when everything stops, even the bullets in midair.
