Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
We’re having a baby!
The journey to parenthood has been a bumpy one, but we’re so ready for this. Our careers are going well, we have a cool house in a great neighborhood, a supportive family, amazing friends, a new puppy, and…it’s time.
Becoming dads isn’t something we take lightly. We’ve planned for this moment for years. Hey, I’m a lawyer and I know how to prepare. I’ve done the research, consulted experts, and explored our options.
But now that there’s a baby on the way, a nursery to decorate, and a crib to buy…I’m panicking. The fear that something might go wrong is always on my mind. We’ve been crushed and disappointed, and while this should be different, I want to do whatever I can to protect my husband and our happiness.
This is the biggest moment of our lives, and it has to be perfect.
It has to be better than good.
Better Than Baby features Matt and Aaron from my international bestselling book, Better Than Good. The lawyer, the diva, and the happy ever after of a lifetime…and a baby. For readers who know the real love story happens after the first “I love you.”
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
one
“I sustain myself with the love of family.”—Maya Angelou
The country lane stretched between evergreen trees that brushed through wispy clouds in the early spring sky. Other than deer lurking half-hidden under low branches and the occasional bird flitting overhead, it was eerily quiet. I couldn’t decide if it was peaceful and idyllic…or like something straight out of a horror film.
Of course, I immediately realized that I’d only noticed because I wasn’t used to driving in complete silence with Aaron. He always had a story to tell or an observation to share.
“Shira Stevens swears bell-bottoms and culottes are going to be the rage next fall, to which I say, no chance! I’ll give her one or the other…maybe. But not both at the same time. The seventies have had their day, honey.”
Or…
“Matty, did you know that the tiny little pocket in jeans was designed to hold pocket watches? How cute is that! My jeans are far too snug for that nonsense. I could just imagine someone asking me for the time and waiting another ten minutes while I wiggled to free the poor thing from the denim-trap designer wear.”
Or even…
“I don’t think I like milk anymore. At all. It’s so…meh. I still have nightmares where five-year-old adorable me is sitting alone with a plateful of mushy peas and a glass of tepid milk, tears streaming down my cheeks because one of my parents insisted that the horrible combination had to be consumed before I could have a popsicle.” Insert all-body shiver. “We’re not doing that to our kids, Matty. Eat the peas or don’t. No trauma necessary. The world gives plenty without us adding to the mix. Am I right?”
In any of those scenarios, my input might be a grunt of agreement or an off-hand comment like, “If you ask me, mushy brussels sprouts are the stuff of childhood nightmares.”
Aaron would gasp, swivel in his seat, and launch into the story of the brussels sprouts we’d burned the hell out of last Thanksgiving. We’d laugh, and he’d blast his music and sing to whatever playlist he’d thought best fit our travel itinerary—Latin love songs, Gaga za za—don’t ask, I have no clue what that means—or something from his Taylor era. None of it was to my taste, but I happily put up with it ’cause Aaron loved it and I loved Aaron to utter and absolute distraction.
So, yeah…that was why today’s quiet felt a little haunting.
I understood, though. He was tapped out, cried out, angry, frustrated, and sad.
I just wasn’t sure a puppy would fill the void.
“I’m fine, Matty,” Aaron hummed as if reading my mind. “I really am. Am I disappointed? Yes, but I know you are too. It just wasn’t our turn, wasn’t our time.”
I linked our fingers across the console and brought them to my lips. “I know. Hang tight and be patient. We’ll get there.”
Aaron rubbed my forearm and sighed. “I’m trying. And just so you know…I don’t look at becoming pet parents as a placeholder for a having a child. We were always going to get a dog.”
“True.”
“And we don’t have to get one today. We’re just looking.”
I scoffed. “The thing about ‘looking’ at puppies is that you’re going to want to take one home every time…even if you’re not in the market for one. It’s hard to resist a cute little furball with stubby legs, big ears, oversized paws, and a potbelly.”
“And the sweet puppy dog eyes,” he cooed, finally twisting to face me. “Gah! I’m going to fold like a house of cards, Matty! If you find me on the floor under a pile of puppies, let ’em at me. Yes, yes, I know we’re just looking, but I’ve heard animals are so good for your mental health and well-being. They legit have puppy yoga at Om Salon. Can you even? It’s new and it gets booked fast, but maybe I could…”