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Chapter Sixty Nine

“Wittrell Wesidence.”

I smiled. “Hi Baylee, it’s Olivia.”

“Hi!” I heard a chair scoot back. I could almost see him hopping into it. “What’s up?”

I suppressed a laugh. “Nothing, what’s up with you?”

“I’m eatin' some cereal.”

I heard a spoon dunk into the milk. I smiled.

“Is your daddy home?”

I heard the sound of a spoon being tossed back down into the bowl.

“BWIAN!”

I couldn’t help it; I laughed. I heard a little bit of mumbled talking and the sound of the chair being scooted (most likely closer to the table). Finally, Brian came on the line.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Bri. It’s Liv.”

He lowered his voice; I could almost picture him walking out of the kitchen. “Do you know?”

I took a deep breath. “The doctor just called about an hour ago.”

“Hold on; Leigh wants to get on the extension.”

A few seconds later I heard a click.

“Liv, it’s Leigh.”

“Hi Leigh.”

The tension was oppressive. Not wanting to torture them for another second, I blurted it out.

“It’s Nick’s!”

“Thank God,” Brian said. I heard another click. Nick walked into the kitchen with the extension held to his ear. He started to sing We Are the Champions over the line.

Brian laughed. “Congratulations, Nick,” he said.

“Yes, congratulations you two,” Leighanne said warmly.

“I knew it all along,” Nick said. “We did it like rabbits.”

I punched him in the shoulder.

“Way too much information, Nick,” Brian said, laughing.

We talked for a few minutes longer. I hung up; I felt so much better. Nick propped his elbows up on the kitchen island, his face cupped in his hands. He looked at me flirtaciously.

“So…I’m Nick Carter,” he said teasingly. “And you are?”

I laughed. “Nick…”

“You’re name’s Nick too? What a small world!”

I hopped up on a barstool. “Olivia,” I said, shaking my head.

“Can I tell you you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met?”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Nick laughed. He stood up, walking over to my barstool. He swung me around.

“I’m going to marry you someday,” he said sweetly, leaning down and kissing my bottom lip sensuously. My fingers curled around the metal back of the chair.

“Who says I’m going to say yes?” I murmured, as his kisses trailed down my neck.

“Oh, you’ll say yes.”

His hands slid down the back of my pajama bottoms. I allowed my head to fall back, my mouth opened slightly.

“Yes,” I whispered. He scooped me up; I wrapped my legs around his waist.

“Yes.”

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Now that we were assured that the newest member of the Backstreet family was indeed a Carter, I allowed Nick’s imagination to run wild. We spent a whole day in the beautiful room he had shown me before, plotting out where to put the crib, changing table, dresser, and all of the other paraphernalia that a baby required.

“If it’s a boy I want to do the room in Bucs colors,” Nick said.

“And if it’s a girl?” I teased.

“Bucs colors?”

I rolled my eyes. Red and black with skulls and crossbones was a far cry from my ideal vision of soft pastels.

“Maybe we should go shopping,” Nick said. I smiled.

“Something tells me that if I let you go shopping now we’re going to come home with a truck full of stuff.”

He grinned. “So?”

The grin got me every time.

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I walked down the aisles with Nick at a swank baby store in Tampa Bay.

“Kourtney Kardashian shopped here,” Nick said. I turned the price tag over on a soft yellow sleeper. My eyes widened.

“Nick this is ridiculous,” I complained. “The baby would wear this for maybe an hour and poop all over it. For seventy-five dollars I could buy fifty of these at Wal-mart.”

“It’s made from allergen free fibers,” a saleslady said from behind my shoulder; she did not look amused.

“See? Allergen free fibers,” Nick said.

I managed to talk him away from the clothes and we made our way over to cribs. I ran my hand over a couple; then stopped.

There it was. It was a beautiful light honey; the gentle curves reminded me of a sleigh bed. Nick walked past me, placing a hand on it.

“I like this one,” he said, smiling over at me. I looked at him.

“Don’t you like it?”

I nodded. “I love it.” I walked up to him. “How much is it?”

He yanked the tag off and stuck it in his back pocket. “That’s not important.”

I knew right then that it was astronomical.

“Nick…”

He flagged down the sour-faced saleslady and pulled the tag out of his pocket.

“We’d like this one.”

Selling a big ticket item turned sour puss into a ray of sunshine.

“Is there anything else? How about the matching changing table?”

She took us over to a group of changing tables. Sure enough there was an elegant changing table in light honey. Nick nodded.

“Yeah, we’ll take it. He looked around. Is there a matching dresser and rocker?”

I saw dollar signs replace the pupil’s in “sour’s” face as she matched up a dresser and rocker. Nick followed her to the counter; I stayed behind at the crib. After checking out every inch of it, I checked the prices of the cribs around it and blanched.

“You need to stop worrying.”

I looked up to see Nick standing by me, his arms folded.

“I have the money, and I can afford it. You two are worth it. You’re my family.”

I bit my lip, but in all honesty I didn’t have a comeback. Who could argue with that logic?

I was his family.