Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
“Is that a foot?” I point to a tiny white spot in one picture.
Maren rotates the picture. “Or a hand? A penis, perhaps?”
“Maren, you’re an expert at penises. You’d know one if you saw one.”
Maren guffaws. The couple waiting across from us smirk.
I love this girl’s sense of humor. How she’ll laugh at my dirty jokes, then do dirty things with me in bed later.
“Do you want to find out the gender?” she asks.
I ponder this for a minute. “I think I’d like to keep it a surprise, actually.”
“Good.” Maren grins. “I do too.”
Our chat with the doctor goes well. She reminds Maren to take her prenatal vitamins, answers my questions about Maren lifting Katie, and gives us an official due date of May 25.
It all starts to feel thrillingly real. The fact that I feel thrilled at all is cause for celebration. Has me feeling like I made the right choice to put myself out there again. I spent years alone in a wilderness I convinced myself was home.
I was wrong. This is home. A woman who’s on the same page as I am. I don’t have to chase her down. Convince her to stay. She’s still wild. I hope that never changes. But she also wants the same things I do.
Funny how that makes life so much easier.
“When do you think we should share the news with our family and friends?” Maren asks the doctor.
“With a heartbeat this strong and everything measuring on track, the chance of miscarriage at this point is less than one percent,” Dr. Yelich says. “But when and how you choose to tell people is obviously up to you.”
Maren nods, her expression shifting. Her brow is creased. The light in her eyes dims.
On our way out, I grab Maren’s hand. She’s quiet on the walk to my truck.
“What’s going on?” I ask gently.
She sighs. “I think it’s time to tell my parents.”
“Oh. Yeah. I know you’ve been dreading that.”
“You’re lucky Joe took the news so well.” She gives me a tight smile. “I don’t think my parents are going to be quite as excited. I just . . . I hate the idea of disappointing them.”
I open the passenger door for Maren and help her climb inside. “How are you disappointing them by dating a guy who’s a solid ten, rocking your classes, and working full-time at a job you love?”
Maren’s laughing when I climb in beside her and reach for my seatbelt. “Well, you’re a ten, but you’re twelve years older than I am.”
“I’m stable.” I start the engine. “And rich.”
“You’re a ten, but I’ve only known you for a couple months.”
“We knew right away we had something special.” I reach across the console to grab her knee.
She’s grinning here to ear now. “You’re a ten, but you got me pregnant the first time we slept together.”
“What can I say, my swimmers are strong, just like the rest of me.” I flex my bicep, making it pop against my shirt.
“You’re a ten, but you’re my boss.”
“Don’t pretend like you didn’t attack me that night on the stairs.”
She gives me a sharp, almost hungry look. “I did attack you. How could I not after discovering the block of stone I thought you were could dance like the hottest member of a boy band?”
My turn to laugh. “How about this? You’re a ten, but you’re much younger than I am, you’re my daughter’s nanny who she’s absolutely obsessed with, and you’re warm and wonderful and basically all the things I’m not. I should’ve never laid a fucking finger on you, Tiny.” We’re at a stoplight, so I turn my head to look her in the eye. “But I don’t regret that I did.”
Her eyes go glassy. She blinks and looks away, her throat working as she swallows. “Jesus, Tuck. You’re not a ten. You’re, like, a fucking twenty-five.”
“Says the gorgeous, accomplished, incredibly smart woman who clearly has no idea how amazing she is.”
Her face crumples. “You seriously have to stop making me cry.”
I give her knee a squeeze before sliding my hand up her thigh. “Should I make you come instead?”
“Yes. No. You’re the worst distraction.”
“Or the best.” We’re pulling into the ferry parking lot now. “How about this. Let’s tell Katie about the baby when we get home. Chances are, she’ll be so excited she’ll get you even more excited than you already are. And maybe we take that happy momentum with us when we meet with your parents. I’m thinking we wine and dine them a bit. Let me pull out all the stops.”
“They’ll appreciate the gesture, I’m sure. But that won’t change the fact that I’m on a path they don’t approve of. Mom got pregnant with me when she was twenty. She and dad drilled into me that I should never, ever follow in their footsteps.”