Baller's Baby - A Bad Boy Romance (17 page)

Chapter
Thirty-Eight

Skila

Two
weeks fly by. I’m glad we decided not to wait any longer before getting
married. At the rate this baby is growing inside of me, I wouldn’t have been
able to find a sheet that fit me in another week or two. Staring at myself in
the mirror, I sigh. "I look like a damn beached whale . . . and why
am I wearing white? I’m clearly not the traditional virginal bride."

"You
look fantastic. I hope when my day comes, I look half as beautiful as
you." I half-smile at my reflection and shake my head.

"Lisa,
you will be beautiful, there is no doubt about that. You always have been and
always will be."

She
grins and hugs me tightly before stepping back and pushing me toward the chair
at the vanity. I’ve given her free reign over my hair and makeup today. Usually,
it's something my mother would be here for, but I don’t have that luxury. She
passed away six years ago from stage-four breast cancer. The hole her absence
left in my heart was wide and gaping, unfillable, but over the years, I’ve managed
to bear the pain better and better.

Today is
a struggle, and not just for me. I know it’s hard for Kiptyn too. We are being
married two weeks after hospitalizing his brother, his best friend, who up
until two weeks ago, he’d thought was killed in a suicide bombing in Israel. I
know he wants Camryn by his side during the ceremony, but it isn’t possible
right now.

Maybe
later, we can have another more elaborate wedding, not that we would need it.
As far as I’m concerned, the wedding doesn’t matter at all. The marriage is the
important thing. We’re having the wedding for our friends and family so they won’t
feel left out, and I’m glad we are, but the real test isn’t the ceremony and
how many flowers we have, or what food is served. It comes later, when times
get tough and we want to run in the opposite direction of each other. It will
happen. I know that.

Every
family goes through something similar, but what makes a healthy marriage is the
way they handle those situations. I refuse to ever walk away. I'll stand by his
side for the rest of my days, through the good and the bad.

Lisa
tugs my hair tight, weaving a light blue ribbon through the mass of silky brown
locks. The ribbon was given to me by Kiptyn’s granny. She said it had been his
mother's when she was a little girl. I burst into tears when she offered it to
me, my hormones getting the best of me. It amazes me how openly she has
accepted me into her family and her heart.

“I’m so
sorry. My hormones are crazy,” I try to say.

She
wasn’t affected by my tears one bit.

“Oh,
sweetie, this is just the beginning. That little boy will be walking on your
heart for years to come, but it's worth every scuff mark,” she said, pulling me
into a comforting embrace. I stand there, letting her hold me. I could pull
away if I want to, but something about her calm nature comforts me. I smile
into the mirror, remembering.

Lisa
looks up, meeting my eyes, and she smiles back at me, "So, I’ve been
meaning to ask . . . does anyone else know?"

She
gazes down at my stomach, and I know what she’s asking. She wants to know if we
have told anyone else that the baby is not Kip’s. I thought about it. Hell, I
tried to bring it up to Kiptyn, but with everything going on right now, it’s
just not the right thing to do.

The
family already had to suffer the shock of a lifetime finding out that Camryn is
still alive, and as amazing as that news is, they can’t even fully celebrate it
because of the condition he came back in. No one knows exactly what happened
while he was over there, and I have a feeling no one ever will. Camryn is tight-lipped
about it. I can’t say I blame him one bit.

"No,
and they don't need to. Not right now, anyway—maybe never. I signed the papers
terminating his rights. It’s the only way he would agree to stay in the
hospital and willingly get help. I hated doing it, but maybe he was right. He
knows better than anyone else if he’s capable of being a father.”

I still
can’t believe he was so adamant about giving up his rights to the baby. It
killed me to sign those papers. My heart shredded for my unborn child. I felt
like he was giving up on him before he was even given a chance, but over the
last two weeks, I have come to realize that Camryn needed to do that for
himself.

He can’t
focus on getting well if he’s constantly worried about the safety and wellbeing
of another human. He needs to be free and clear of all worry and commitment so
that he can focus on himself. There are still times I don’t agree with it, but
I understand.

“Stay
away from the Bo's moonshine, Lisa. I can't have this getting out and creating
drama. Kip knows and you know, that's it . . . and for goodness’ sake, don't
let Nana sucker you into her ‘secret stash’.”

"I
know, Sky, I know."

She
looks so solemn. I can tell she understands how much this means to me, and I
love her even more for that. She is my best friend. I know I can trust her with
any secret I have. I always have. I shoot daggers at her, raising my eyebrows
in the mirror dramatically.

"I'll
be watching you, Lisa," I reply, trying to be serious. She bursts out
laughing and drops the brush she’s holding. It hits the floor with a loud thud
and rolls across the room. About that time, a knock on the door startles me.

"Sky,
Lisa, y’all in there?" Devan calls through the door. He sounds worried and
out of breath. I wonder what’s going on and why he’s looking for me. I glance
at the clock, noting the time. We still have at least half an hour before the
ceremony is supposed to start, so I know he isn’t here to walk me down aisle.

"Yeah,
Dev, come in."

The door
swings open wide, and Devan glances at me, but his eyes only bounce off me
before settling on Lisa, who squirms under his gaze. She looks everywhere
around the room but at him.

"Sorry
to bust in on you, but Nana is trying to doctor the punch,” he says, still
staring directly at her. I’m staring at her now too, noting the blush that is
creeping up her ivory neck and coating her cheeks. She turns around and
pretends to straighten the makeup on the vanity, but every second or so, her
eyes glance up in the mirror and catch his.

"Seriously?
What’s she trying to put in it?" I ask while making a mental note to
question my best friend on this strange behavior later. It’s very obvious she
has been keeping something from me.

"Bourbon."
Shit, that’s not good. Leave it to my Nana to try to get the whole wedding
party drunk off their asses before the wedding. I’d be surprised if she didn’t
spike the brownies too.

"Oh
hell, the ladies at the church will stone us all. Devan, go distract her until
I get down there."

He nods
and races out the door and down the spiraling staircase to the kitchen. I slip
my feet into the sandals I’ve decided to wear today instead of heels. Slipping
and falling again while seven months pregnant doesn’t sound fun, especially not
on my wedding day.

"I
knew having the wedding in a church was a bad idea. Between Nana and Bo, we are
all going to end up kicked out and thrown in hell for something, I’m
sure."

Lisa
laughs, but it sounds choked.

“Come on,
bitch. We will talk about your secrets later,” I tell her and grab her arm,
pulling her behind me.

She
breathes a sigh of relief and follows me down the stairs to attempt to save the
world from the force known to most as Nana. I just hope we aren’t too late and
that Devan or Jaxon were able to intercept her before she poured too much in.
Lord, why didn’t I just go to Vegas and let Elvis marry me? I could have
already been enjoying my honeymoon. When I enter the kitchen, Nana is cornered
by the refrigerator, and Devan and Jaxon both have their hands raised in the
air in surrender. I can't see what she’s doing or holding, but it can't be
good.

"Nana,
what are you doing? You know you can't spike the punch. This is going to a
church,” I say, pulling my brothers away, taking the can opener from my Nana,
and placing it in the sink.

“Y’all
go make sure no one drank any and taste it all. Lord, we can't have people
getting drunk at church.”

I shove
the boys from the kitchen and then turn back to Nana, shaking my head in
dismay. Placing my hands on my ever-expanding hips, I prepare to scold my
seventy-year-old grandmother. “Nana, we are going to church for my wedding.
Church, you, God, Jesus. Ring a bell?" I ask.

"Of
course. I knew that. I just thought it might be fun to liberate the old fuddy
duddies a bit," she states with her signature wink, and I can't help but
laugh.

Of
course, it doesn’t help that Lisa pours two shots and passes one to Nana, and
together, they down them while toasting liberating fuddy duddies. I can't do
anything but shake my head and laugh and pray that I make it through this day.
"You are too much sometimes," I say, wrapping my arms around her. She
is exasperating, but I wouldn’t change one thing about her.

"You
know you love me, Sky."

"You
know I do." She hugs me back before pulling away and slipping an envelope
in my hand. I look down at it, bewildered. I didn’t expect her to get me
anything for a wedding present. Growing up, we always had what we needed, but
we weren’t by any means rich.

"This
is my wedding gift to you. Only open it when you are alone." I can’t
imagine what she could have gotten me and why she wants me to wait until I’m
alone to open it. My curiosity is piqued, to say the least, but it will have to
wait.

“Thank
you, Nana.”

“Oh,
pish posh, I’ll hear no such thing. Now come on and let’s get you hitched
before that baby makes his appearance,” she says, leading me out of the kitchen
and down the back hall to the front of the church.

As we
pass a window, I get my first look at the masterpiece in the back of the church
were the ceremony is being held. Since I’m not a member of the church, I didn’t
feel right being married inside, but Kip’s granny wasn’t hearing any of that.
She introduced me to the preacher, Michael, and his wife, and after a lovely
chat one afternoon, my nerves were settled and the arrangements set.

Michael is
very accommodating, allowing us the use of the back field of the church for the
reception. I ended up having very little to do with the actual planning of everything.
I communicated my preferences on colors and my favorite flowers and whatnot to
Lisa, who then worked with Grace to make it all happen. It worked out better
that way, since I spent most of those two weeks on bed rest before my doctor
released me. Thankfully, that call had come three days ago.

I am now
officially cleared for everything—including the honeymoon.

We make
it outside, and my hand covers my mouth and the gasp that escapes. The yard
turned out breathtaking. My eyes are drawn to several places at once. Smooth,
white tablecloths are spread on simply set round tables. Glowing paper lanterns
are strung from tree to tree, illuminating the area perfectly.

Choosing
to do the ceremony at dusk is the best call I could have made, and truthfully,
it wasn’t my decision at all. It had been Kiptyn’s. He said he wanted to marry
me, his Midnight Sky, beneath the twinkle of God’s stars. I couldn’t have
denied him that even if I had wanted to.

The dim
light of candles burning on the tabletops sets the mood for the evening, but
the dusk sky turning shades of orange and purple adds a mystic touch that no
one could have anticipated. It's beautiful, amazing. I want to capture this
moment and savor it for the rest of my life. It’s magical. It’s perfect.

I hear
another collective
oh
and realize
that, again, everyone's eyes are on me. I look around the yard as if to greet
them all. Standing around the first table is Bo, Devan and Lisa’s mother, Gwen.
She nods at me with an especially large smile stretching across her face. I see
tears in her already red eyes, and I know that it won't be long before half of
the congregation is bawling, me included.

At the
end of the table, Nana is swallowing another glass of clear liquor, her ‘secret
stash’, I suppose. I shift my attention to the other table, where Kip’s
grandmother, the ever so appropriately named Grace, is setting out food. To her
left is Pastor Michaels’s wife, Genell, with her hands clasped together over
her chest and a look of adoration on her face.

I’m
thankful someone had the forethought to put Nana and Bo at a table of their
own. I couldn’t imagine them sitting with Grace or Genell. Actually, I could
imagine it. In very elaborate detail, which is why I need to make a mental note
to thank whoever arranged the seating after this is over.

Across
from Genell is Jordan, who gives me a sexy smirk that quickly turns into a
full-blown smile. I haven’t spent that much time with him, but over the last
week, I’ve grown to really like Jordan. He is the one who defended Lisa’s honor
that night so long ago at the club, and for that, I will always have a soft
spot for him.