Page 7 of Knocked Up
She isn’t looking at me, something that pisses me off further. Two months ago, it’d felt like she couldn’t get enough of me, now she’s acting like she can’t stand to be around me. It only further confirms I made the right decision. Even though I’d wanted to get her number, as soon as she’d crawled out of bed, she’d taken off before I could realize she wasn’t using the restroom and coming back to bed. Just…gone.
“It’s just that, well, you smell really good, but it’s also making me—” She lurches forward. I’ve seen enough drunken assholes to know what’s coming. I scramble to the side of my desk and grab the garbage can.
Full of papers, I don’t even think. Just shove it right in front of her as she throws up.
She takes the can from me and sinks back into her chair.
Shit.
“I’m so sorry.”
She wrenches again and I pull her hair off her cheeks, holding it in my fist. The memory of doing that to her while she was on her knees hits me hard and fast. I shake it off and focus. “It’s okay, Cara.”
This girl. Watching her throw up, repeatedly, I suck in a breath and hold it. The stench is nasty.
“I’m so sorry, Brax,” she murmurs, her voice dry. “It’s just, I’m making a mess of this.” She gags again and damn it if it doesn’t make me want to hold her in my arms, bathe her, clean her…
And, hell.
A baby.
My baby. Somehow in all the anger, the shock of seeing her, I haven’t even considered the fact my kid is inside of her. It’s my child, my fault she’s throwing up.
I slide my phone out of my pocket and call Stella. “Whatcha need, boss? More Magnums?”
If Stella wasn’t like my sister, I’d have fired her years ago. Late to work, bitchy to the customers, she’s not exactly a model employee, but I’ve known her since we were kids and I might not be a lot of things, but I’m damn loyal. She’s also a whiz with numbers, something I’ve never been able to figure out.
“No. Washcloth, warmed, and crackers and water. Now.”
I hang up before she can ask what the hell for and step away from Cara to open the door.
The scent of the puke has infiltrated my office. Damn. It’ll take days to air this out.
All of that becomes irrelevant when Cara sniffs. “I’m so sorry, Brax. I didn’t mean to come here, didn’t mean to tell you this way.”
“It’s all right.” I slide my hand up and down her back even after she sets the wastebasket down. Goosebumps pop on her arms. It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful. My dick clearly remembers the feel of her skin because it twitches.
Yeah, because now is the time to get a fucking hard-on.
“You okay now?”
She shrugs. “Comes and goes. Whoever said morning sickness was a thing is a lying sack of shit. Hits me at the worst times, all day long. And I’m so tired. I can’t sleep, can’t eat.”
That explains the pale skin and dark circles under her eyes.
“Come on.” I slide the garbage can out of the way. This girl needs someone to take care of her and I need answers. “Let me get you back home and we’ll talk.”
“I’m really tired. Can I just leave you my number and you can call me? Maybe we can do this later?”
Like hell that’s happening. I’m not some dick who walks away from responsibility. I’m also not setting a woman out on a street in this neighborhood looking like she might pass out at any moment.
“No, come on.” I hold out my hand and when she places her palm in mine, electric heat zings straight to my chest. Yeah, I’m not letting her go. Not yet, anyway. “I want to make sure you get home okay and I’ve got a car out back. Did you drive here?”
“No.” She shakes her head and sways on her feet. Her head smacks my chest and she goes listless. I tighten my grip on her. “Braxton? I don’t feel so well.”
She sways again and her eyelids flutter closed. I grab her right before her body goes limp and crashes to the floor.
Stella walks in, eyes wide, nose scrunched from the smell, crackers in one hand, bottle of water in the other. “What the hell? Did she puke? Is she drunk?”
