Wilde by Abby Brooks

Chapter Nineteen

Leo

Frustration boils as I rip another page from the sketchpad. When it’s sufficiently crumpled into a ball, I chuck it at the pile of close-but-not-quite siblings lining the trash can. I’ve been trying to get an idea down on paper for the past two hours, but something is missing. The kicker? It has to be ready for a big deal client by tomorrow. Fucking deadlines.

The bells hanging from the door jingle-jangle, and I look up to find Amy standing in the entry with a cautious smile. “Surprise?”

“What are you doing here?”

Shit, that came out harsh.

“Is this a bad time?” She bites her lip and carefully raises a bag with two carryout containers in one hand and a drink carrier in the other. “I come bearing gifts.”

“Well bear them right on over here, Skips.” I motion her my way. I’m so fed up with getting nowhere, a distraction sounds fantastic. The fact that she’s the distraction is icing on the cake.

Amy crosses the room and sets the food on the counter. “What are you working on?” she asks, craning to peek. “Can I see?”

“It’ll cost you.”

“More than the tasty meal I already brought?” She shakes her head. “You really know how to make a girl feel welcome.”

“All right. Prepare to be dazzled.” I hold the pad of paper against my chest. “Maybe you should sit. You might be overwhelmed by its magnificence.” I turn the paper around, revealing a blank page.

She bobs her head. “Wow, that’s some of your best work.”

I thumb toward the trash pile. “If I ever get through this mental block, it might be. Right now, I’m just killing trees.” I straighten on my stool and clear my throat. “So, what brings you in today? Looking to have some work done? Or just looking?”

Those were the first words I ever said to her and the secret smile on her face says she knows. “Actually, I had a doctor’s appointment.” Amy smiles and her brow arches a little. “I decided to drive myself this time. You know, so I’d have a ride home.”

She opens a foam container, complete with a delicious looking, artery clogging burger nestled beside a bed of crispy french-fries and slides it to me, then retrieves another for herself. “It’s bacon, mushroom, and Swiss,” she says around a hearty bite. “It’s not fast food. It’s so much better, I promise.” She holds up her burger. “There I was, minding my own business, just driving home, when I saw it on a billboard. Next thing I know, I’m three people deep in line and my mouth is salivating. Chalk it up to ‘cravings while pregnant,’ I guess.”

I bite off the end of a fry. “Bet it beats the nausea.”

“Sure, till after the baby, when I have a ton of weight to lose.”

“Just how much is a ‘ton?’ Scientifically speaking. You know, asking for a friend.”

It’s a risk, going there after she called me out for objectifying her at her last doctor appointment, but what Amy needs to understand is that her weight has nothing to do with her worth.

“Why? That going to be a problem?” she asks around a mouthful of greasy deliciousness.

“Not even a little.”

“What’s the matter? Big, muscly tattoo guy can’t handle the thought of this plus a little extra?” She motions up and down her torso with her hand. “Well too bad, because now I’m not stopping at a ton.” She grabs fries from her container as she gets up from her stool and dances around, shaking her assets in all the right ways. “And if you don’t love every pound, it’ll prove true all the bad things you already think about yourself. So there.”

I bite into my burger as I watch her dance. “Do I have any input on where the weight goes?”

Amy stops dancing and purses her lips. “Let me guess, you want it all to go here,” she says, biting the ends off her fries and aiming the remaining stumps at her tits.

“Not necessarily. I mean, it’s a good start, but let’s have a look at the back first.” I twirl my finger, gesturing for her to turn. “Slowly now.”

Amy chucks the fry stumps at me. “Keep it up and I’ll eat everything in sight and will it to go straight to my belly and thighs.”

I slowly bob my head. “Can’t wait for that.”

“That’s right you can’t. Because if you so much as whisper one less-than-complimentary thing about it, I’ll throw in the spot under my chin too.” Her hip juts and she arches an eyebrow, double dog daring me to challenge her.

Instead of firing off a comeback, my eyes linger on her body, unable to shake how attracted I am to her. Not her thin waist, or sexy hips. Not even the svelte area under her chin I’ve never noticed before now. I’m attracted to her. Her sense of humor. Her quirky attitude. Her trim figure and sexy curves are great, but the idea of seeing her belly grow because she’s carrying my child? Somehow that’s even better.

“Now you’re just staring and being weird.” Her eyes drop to the floor then right back up to mine. A blush pinks her cheeks and vulnerability flickers across her face.

I wipe my hands with a napkin and toss it toward the trash as I step around the counter. It’s foolish to wait and see where things go. Whatever we are, it’s more than either of us has been willing to acknowledge and I’m ready to get on with finding out. Right here. Right now.

“Come here.” My voice is low. My intentions clear.

Amy’s eyes flicker across my face as she saunters over.

I trace a finger along her cheek. “You know it’s not like that, don’t you? What you are to me.”

She looks away. “I don’t know. I want to think this is…”

Delicately, I lift her chin till her eyes meet mine. “What? Say it.”

“I’d like to think this is more than physical.” Her ice blue eyes are wide, vulnerable and locked on mine.

She’s waiting for me to respond, but what do I say?

She’s the first thing I think about in the morning?

As soon as I gave Matix a date, I wished I’d given us more time?

I’ve never liked getting close with anyone, but I can’t stop myself from wanting to spend time with her?

Old me would sit on all those statements and keep them to myself. New me knows I need to say some of it…all of it…more of it…

“Amy…” I cup her cheek and swallow hard.

The bells hanging from the door jingle-jangle as a twentysomething hipster sporting an earth tone beanie enters. “Sup,” he says without looking up from his phone. “You Wilde? The artist dude? I totally want to get some deck work done, but I don’t have a lot of kale, ya know?”

Amy steps back and shoots me a puzzled look, the moment between us lost to shitty timing and Gen Z English. “I should go so you can do your thing." She gathers her burger and drink and hurries past the hipster as he slides his phone into his pocket and takes notice of the pictures on the walls.

“Amazeballs.” He zeroes in on a photo. “Dude. This is like…”

As she pushes open the door I call out. “Hang on.”

“Yeah?” She turns back.

“Can I see you later? We weren’t finished.”

Amy frowns. “Dad’s brother—my uncle Jake—is in town. We’ve got a whole thing planned tonight. Raincheck for tomorrow?”

“Can’t. I’m flying to Nashville for a thing of my own.” The next words fall out of my mouth with no clearance or approval of any kind. None. “You should come.”

“Dope,” the hipster mumbles as he takes notice of another photo.

Amy stares in surprise, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Really? For how long?”

Uncertain how the implication of an overnight will go over, I play it down. “It’s basically a touch and go. In and out. We’ll fly back the next morning.”

“Okay.” She bites her lip and smiles. “Text me the details?”

I nod. “Can’t wait.”

And I can’t. I really, truly can’t.

Having Amy by my side at another event almost sounds better than the event itself.

Who am I kidding? It does sound better than the event itself.