Fire & Brimstone (Neighbor from Hell #8) - R.L. Mathewson Page 0,101

took a sip of her soda. When she was done, she tossed the empty can in the sink and leaned back against the counter, in absolutely no rush to follow through with this bet.

“How are you feeling?” she asked Melanie, wondering how she was holding up with everything.

“I’m good,” Melanie said, shooting her a smile as she picked up her computer and placed it back on her lap.

Curious, but having absolutely no idea how to ask her, Rebecca walked over and sat down on a chair, thankful that Mojo was there so that she could buy herself some time by scratching behind his ears. While she’d freaked out and panicked over just the mere possibility that she might be pregnant, here Melanie was, the definition of calm as she continued to type away at her computer.

“Are you okay with this?” she asked as nonchalantly as she could manage, hoping that it wouldn’t freak Melanie out.

“With you letting your foolish pride talk you into playing a game that you never had a chance of winning or quitting a job that you love? Because, I’m seriously concerned about the first and wondering when you’re going to suck it up for the second.”

Glaring at the betraying bitch that should know better than to point out the stupid things that she did, she said, “I meant about the baby.”

Melanie shrugged as she reached for a Hostess pie. “I’m nervous, but I know that everything will work out.”

Worrying her bottom lip, she studied her best friend for several minutes, unable to ignore the fact that Melanie actually looked happy about this. It was in her eyes and the way that her lips curled up in the corners ever so slightly. She was definitely happy, Rebecca decided, happy for her best friend. Rebecca would be there for her, helping her along the way with anything she needed.

Except for diapers.

Melanie was definitely on her own when it came to changing diapers, she decided as she gave Mojo one last scratch behind the ears, stood up and carefully stepped over the large dog.

“What did Lucifer win?” Melanie asked her, reminding her about Lucifer’s terrifying request.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she muttered miserably as she headed towards her bedroom.

“That bad?” Melanie called after her.

“I said that I don’t want to talk about it!” she yelled over her shoulder.

“You could have just said that instead of being a bitch!”

“I just did!” she snapped as she walked in her room, shut the door behind her, dropped down on her bed, buried her head beneath the pillow and decided that yes, yes she was going to hide here like the coward that she was, because there was no way that she was going to be able to come to terms with the fact that Lucifer Bradford had just proposed to her.

Well, demanded might be a better term, she mused only to end up shaking her head a few seconds later when she decided that blurting best described the terrifying suggestion that had sent her running.

*-*-*-*

“So, what did you do to scare off our little Rebecca?” Melanie asked when he finally managed to make it across the hallway without his knees threatening to give out on him.

“Nothing,” he said, swallowing hard as he stumbled into their kitchen, threw the refrigerator door open and grabbed the first thing that he saw, which just happened to be a can of frosting.

“Umm, what are you doing?” Melanie asked, sounding somewhat amused.

“I don’t know!” he admitted, grabbing a spoon from the drawer and viciously stabbed it into the can of frosting.

As he shoved a large spoonful of frosting in his mouth, Melanie sat there, staring at him. “Should I go get Rebecca?” she finally offered when it became clear that he’d lost his fucking mind, again.

He’d already figured out that he’d lost his fucking mind when he’d opened his mouth to suggest that Rebecca should serve him dinner, naked and on her knees only to hear himself demand that she marry him. It definitely hadn’t been intentional and it sure as hell hadn’t been pretty since he’d sort of shouted at her.

When he’d spotted that pregnancy test in her hand this morning his mind had automatically clicked into gear, knowing exactly what he needed to do and what was expected of him. He’d been raised to believe that getting a woman pregnant meant a trip up to New Hampshire to make things right. It might not be the way things were done anymore, but he