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)
“I think so. She likes yoga…a lot,” he commented, stopping at our SUV. “I wonder how she feels about piña coladas and getting caught in the rain.”
“I have a feeling she’s too young for that reference.”
Aaron gasped. “Too young for the piña colada song? Is that allowed?”
I lowered my sunglasses and rolled my eyes. “Well…what did you think?”
He glanced away with a theatrical sigh. “I like her. I really, really like her. I thought she was too perfect at first. All that yoga and healthy shit had to be covering up something seedy, you know. But she made goth fashion faux pas like the rest of us and her mom reads tarot cards and her brother is gay, and geez, Matty…Lena could be the one.”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” I admitted.
He worried his bottom lip. “Do you think we might be parents this time next year?”
“Hey…” I pulled him into my arms. “Don’t do that, Aar. Not yet.”
Aaron nodded against my chest before pushing out of my hold. “You’re right. One day at a time. I have to go. Murphy needs me.”
“Okay, we’ll talk tonight. Love you.” I kissed him and stepped aside.
“I love you, too.” He pivoted as he opened the driver’s side door. “Matty?”
“Yeah?”
“You said, ‘our baby’ in there. Our baby.” Aaron flashed a bashful grin. “It gave me goose bumps…all-body, shivery goose bumps. Sometimes I think this is too hard and that I’m asking for the moon when I already have more than I dreamed, but then you say our baby and…it’s worth it.”
I reached for his wrist and pressed my lips to his knuckles. “Yours, mine…ours.”
Aaron fanned his face. “If I were you, I’d make a speedy escape. In two seconds, I’ll be on my knees in front of God and Bethesda in the parking lot of a respectable family planning clinic, doing all kinds of depraved things to my husband.”
I barked a laugh. “Behave. I’ll see you later.”
He blew kisses I pretended to catch on the way to my car. I shrugged my suit coat off and tossed it to the passenger side. A prickly sensation of being watched had me sliding a wary glance over my shoulder.
Lena stood at the entrance of the brick building, her long skirt billowing in the breeze. She smiled and waved. I returned the gesture, idly wondering how long she’d been staring at us…what she’d seen, what she’d been looking for. If she seriously considered giving her time, body, and a measure of her privacy to us, she’d probably want to be sure we were worth it.
Hope wasn’t a word I tossed around lightly anymore. I’d spent a whole year and a half bearing the weight of one disappointment after another—for myself and Aaron. I was aware of all the ways this could go wrong. Lena might not conceive, she might miscarry, she might be a skilled sociopath, a deviant with a secret drug problem, the baby might not be born healthy. The list went on and on.
My brain wasn’t a pleasant place to be in the middle of the night when I woke sweaty and disoriented with a sick feeling that I was fucking everything up. I wished I were better at listening to my own advice. It was easy to preach about patience and gratitude, but some days, I feared I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
And yet…against my better judgment, a spark of hope bloomed in my chest. I tried to smother it with logic and reason—There’s no contract yet, the terms might be out of our reach, this might not work—but the stubborn sense of rightness wouldn’t stand down.
I really wanted this to be it.
five
Murphy chased the tennis ball Henry tossed, immediately dropping it to chase after Holly’s ball. Holly squealed gleefully while her brother pouted with frustration. I didn’t have the heart to warn her that Murphy’s retrieving follow-through was a work in progress. He was easily distracted by everything from a butterfly to a new scent in the air. The only thing that assured Murphy’s solid focus was food.
And Holly had figured that out.
The four-year-old held her palm up, jumping excitedly as she eyed Murphy, who still had the ball but showed no signs of returning it. “Can I give him a treat, Uncle Matt?”
“Me too!” Henry raced over, swiping his nose on his forearm.
“Don’t wipe your nose like that, Henry. Come get a tissue,” Jay called from the deck.
“I don’t need one,” my peppy godson insisted, peering at me from under a fringe of blond hair, an eager smile fixed on his adorable mug. “If I give Murphy a cookie, he’ll bring me the ball, right, Uncle Matt?”
“No, I was first. It was my idea.” Holly glowered at her brother and hip-checked him.
Henry didn’t seem too concerned, but he delivered a sneaky side shove that their dads would likely miss from a distance.