“Because everyone will be asking, so there’s no reason to hide anything.”
Dakota had slicked back Walt’s hair with gel, placed a plain white T-shirt two sizes too small on his shoulders, and rolled up a fake pack of cigarettes in his sleeve. Dakota had the shirt made just for him . . . on the back it said Dr. Baby Daddy. He’d laughed when he’d seen it. He didn’t tout his title often, but he thought it might prove to be the right move on this night.
“If you say so.”
“They’re my people. I know what makes them tick. Louise hasn’t said two words to me since she started spreading the news. If she or Missy think I’m hiding at home, they forgot who I am.”
“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, hon.”
Dakota offered a smile. “I’m doing this for me. When I first got here a part of me was embarrassed, insecure . . . not anymore.” She covered her abdomen with the palm of her hand and smiled. “We’re going to be parents. We might not have planned it, but we’re doing it on our terms. No societal restrictions saying we’re doing it wrong.”
Walt lifted her hand to his lips, kissed the back of it. “Save that speech for my parents.”
She cringed. “One set of chaos at a time. Tonight is about the harvest festival and Halloween party. I have it on good authority there will be cotton candy. Have I told you how much I need cotton candy in my veins?”
“A time or two, yes. I almost called Mary to have her make a trip to a theme park back home just to bag some up.”
Dakota cringed. “Hot cotton candy. I need hot cotton candy.”
“And hot cotton candy you will have. I’m taking pictures and blackmail isn’t beneath me.”
Dakota’s smile lit the car. “I don’t care. Just give me gobs of that shit.”
“Says the woman who won’t eat a doughnut when she’s not pregnant.”
She lifted one eyebrow. “Doughnuts . . . hot doughnuts.”
Walt rolled his eyes. “Oh, Lord.”
Dakota licked her lips.
“Remind me to check your blood sugar when we get back home.”
Costume-wearing kids, adults, and pets filled the harvest festival. Dakota pulled him from the car and headed straight to the cotton candy vendor. “You sure you don’t want to toss a dart into a balloon first?” he asked.
“If I don’t get some cotton candy there might be dart tossing, but it won’t be at any balloons.”
Walt pulled her close, kissed her head, and moved up in line.
When it was their turn, he told the kid wearing plastic hair-dye gloves and a cap to keep rolling the tube in the flaky sugar. When he looked like he was about to pull the tube away, Walt kept rolling his hand around, indicating he wanted more. Only when the swab of cotton candy reached giant-pumpkin proportion did Walt toss the kid ten bucks and walk away.
The pink of Dakota’s tongue snaked a wad of sugar and she moaned . . . a moan he had wanted to hear since they’d started this pregnant dating dance. “It’s that good?” he asked.
She moaned again and his body tightened, everywhere. “You have no idea.”
“No, I don’t,” he mumbled.
A sparkle in her eye met his and she delivered a smile that matched her sexy voice. She pinched off a piece of cotton candy and brought it to his lips. The sweetness hit his tongue with a jolt of something sinful. Before she moved away, he caught the tip of her finger in his teeth for one brief second. Her eyes flashed as she removed her fingers from his mouth and licked them clean.
Walt groaned. “You’re killing me.”
“Good,” she told him. “Maybe I can convince you to have me for a sleepover.”
“You don’t have to convince me.”
She continued to eat the cotton candy, the entire picture of her wearing a provocative schoolgirl outfit, high color on her cheeks, and red lipstick worked perfectly with the kid candy on a stick.
Her body brushed his and she lifted her lips to his ear. “This platonic crap is for teens.”
Walt pulled her body close to his, felt the skin at the small of her back. “Makes it better when we get back there.”
“Promises, promises.”
“I never renege on a promise,” he told her. He kissed her then, sealing his promise with a taste. Just as Dakota softened in his embrace, the sound of someone clearing their throat pulled them apart.
Dakota recovered first, twisting her head in the direction of the interruption. “Sis!”
“I thought that was you.”
The woman Dakota called Sis was dressed as a pirate, the man at her side copied the costume complete with a patch over his eye. Walt stood back while Dakota hugged her friend. “You guys look great. Hi, Billy.” Dakota moved her hug to the man.
“So do you. Perfectly Dakota.”
Dakota laughed and flipped her hair. “Sis, Billy, this is Walt.”
Walt shook Billy’s hand while Dakota offered the CliffsNotes version of their relationship. “And before you ask . . . yes, I am, and yes, he is.”
Walt turned so they could see the back of his shirt.
“Perfectly Dakota,” Sis said a second time.
“And who is this?” Walt asked at the toddler peeking behind his father’s leg.
“That’s Junior, say hi Billy.”
Billy Junior managed a wave but didn’t detach from his parent.
“You sure have grown fast,” Dakota said.