Page 51 of His Vivacious Angel
Autumn’s birthday party is tomorrow, so if we had to test tonight and it came back positive, it would be our first official mini-holiday together as a quasi-family of five and a half. I don’t know how we’d be able to hide our reactions to the life-altering news until Autumn was ready to tell everyone about us. Since it won’t get cold until January or February, we wouldn’t be able to keep the secret for long, unable to conceal her growing belly under big sweatshirts and coats without being miserable, sweating her sweet ass off.
The whole world would know my angel is pregnant with my child.
I sit back and shove my fingers through my hair as I imagine how Sherman would react to the news—fire me or murder me? Fire and then murder me? One is as likely as the other. I pull up my hefty life insurance policy to check that my house and kids would be taken care of in case Autumn does end up pregnant and Sherman buries me six feet under.
I do a double-take when I catch Autumn staring off in the distance with her shoulders hunched up near her ears. “Autumn? The phone?” I say with a nod toward the blinking light on her dock.
“Right,” Autumn says, snapping out of her stupor, herface pale when she lifts the phone. “So sorry to keep you waiting, Mrs. Qureshi.”
At the neighborhood pool pavilion, the whole family is decked out in their swimsuits and flip-flops instead of sweaters and scarves. I can’t complain too much, despite how much I would prefer a chilly Fall season, since Josephine is having a blast jumping in and out of the water with her friends. And best of all, my angel traipses around the large patio in her tiny yellow bikini. The triangles hardly cover her breasts, which sway with every step. I can’t look away.
The crowd of friends, family, neighbors, and even quite a few coworkers who showed up for her birthday, is massive. Given how popular the Fischers are within the community, I’m not surprised. I do hate that several of the neighbors, and even Zayden from work, track Autumn’s every move, as I do, some even biting their fists, but I can’t exactly go around blinding them with Autumn’s can of bear spray. All I’d earn is Autumn’s irritation, and I don’t need her to stress about a single dang thing since we have enough of that on our plates as it is.
I still need to get her answer about her menstrual cycle so I can narrow down the dates, but all she gives me is a sour look or teases me about wanting to know. It’s infuriating and not at all unexpected. We’ll see how well that works out for her when I get her alone tonight. I can think of several ways to get the information I want out of her.
While chitchatting with Miranda, who’s watching her youngest grandchild, Clara, at one of the picnic tables positioned in a semicircle around the patio, Autumn finishes zipping up Benjamin’s new life-jacket. She secureshis sunhat on his head, then makes him giggle by tickling his cheek. Sherman is right. She’d make a fantastic mother.
“You’re drooling,” Bailey says with a laugh from close by, sitting on the steps in the shallow end of the pool. Isaiah sits beside her with a lemonade in one hand and the other resting on his wife’s large baby bump.
That could be Autumn and me soon.
I snap my mouth closed, my cheeks burning while I hold onto Sebastian as he practices kicking his feet in the water, wearing a similar life jacket as Benjamin.
“Can’t help it. She looks like an angel,” James says, bouncing around in the water with one of his sons, Artie.
Forget my cheeks. My whole body ignites, tensing with mounting fury, when I cut my eyes at him. “Why the F-U-C-K are you looking at my angel?”
James startles, and then his expression turns murderous when he advances on me. “Yourangel?”
“Yeah, mine,” I say, going toe to toe with him.
“I will kick your A-S-S six ways to Sunday if you’re looking at my angel,buddy.”
“I’d like to see you try,pal,” I say. We’re approximately the same height and weight, but I’m a few years younger. Though I’ve never been in a fight, I think I have at least a fifty-five percent chance of taking him down.
“Y’all are talking about two different women,” Isaiah says, redirecting our gazes to Autumn approaching the pool with her sister, each of them with a child on their hips.
Until Isaiah pointed her out, I hadn’t noticed Shayla and the small pink bikini she’s wearing. I begrudgingly admit to myself that Shayla does indeed look like an angel—all the sisters do, with their similar hair and eye colors—but Shayla and Bailey don’t hold a candle tomyangel.
“Oh my god, you should see the looks on your faces,”Bailey says, laughing so hard that tears stream down her face, and she clutches her stomach when it bounces up and down. She looks ready to pop, though I’ve been told she still has a few months to go before her scheduled C-section.
“Wait, who did you think I was looking at?” James asks me, cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy.
“Autumn,” I answer, clearing my throat.
“Why would I be looking at her? Why areyoulooking at her?” James’s undivided attention instantly shifts to Shayla, though, before I can answer, as she and Autumn make their way down the steps. His expression transforms to reverential worship.
Wow. Is that how Bailey caught me looking at Autumn? It’s highly likely.
I ease away from the group, wholly embarrassed by the misunderstanding.
Autumn frowns when she sidles up beside me. “Does anyone have a hat Forest can borrow?” When I give her a questioning look, she says, “Your face is already burning. Did you forget to put on sunscreen?” She tsks and stares down the length of her nose at me. “I told you to let me do it.”
Earlier, I had worn a T-shirt into the pool, but Autumn had insisted I take it off, though she couldn’t give me a good reason why. She slathered my shoulders and back with sunscreen herself, her slippery hands gliding up and down my body, really taking her time to rub it all in. It had been quite the experience—one I hope to repeat many, many more times in the future. I had stopped her, however, when she tried to make me sit so she could cover my face next. I didn’t need to pop a boner with her heavenly tits directly in my line of sight in front of everyone—especially not in front of her father, who has done nothing but grumble about his girls driving up his blood pressure after seeing their swimwear. At least he’sgone home to lie down for a quick nap, so he’s not around to catch our conversation.
“Oh, that’s no sunburn,” Isaiah says with a chuckle, leaning back on his elbows. “He thought James was looking at you.”
James reaches for his wife when Shayla swims to him with their daughter, Mirabel, and he dips to kiss her.
