Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“I know,” he says. “But I also know I wouldn’t have been able to hide my feelings for much longer. The only way I would’ve been able to do so was to stay away from you and as it was, that was hard.”
“You almost married her.”
Noah looks at the sand and sighs. “Which would’ve been a massive mistake on my part.”
“I never liked her,” I tell him. “I never liked any of the women you brought home. But Dessie was just plain evil. She saw me as a threat and when I had the accident she saw her future slipping away.”
“Are you defending her?”
I shake my head. “No, what she did is inexcusable. But desperation makes people do the inexcusable.”
“Change the subject,” he says as he steps closer to me. Noah rests his hand on my stomach. “How’s my bean today?”
“Fine, I think.”
“When is morning sickness supposed to start?”
I lift my shoulder. “I think it should have by now? I’m four weeks in. Maybe it doesn’t start until six weeks? That’s normally the time women find out after missing their period.”
“Maybe you’ll be one of the lucky ones and won’t have it.”
“From your mouth to God's ears, Noah Westbury. I hate puking and while I know the end game, the idea of sticking my head in the toilet every day for who knows how long does not appeal to me.”
Noah crouches in front of me. “Hey, little bean. If you could do me a solid and not make your mommy sick, I’d appreciate it.” He stands and gives me a look. “What?”
“That’s the first time you’ve spoken to the baby.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it really is. You’ve said some things, but that is the first time you’ve spoken directly to him or her.”
“Well, I’m going to have to rectify that. Do you think I should read Madden’s autobiography or something else?”
I can’t hold back my laughter or my eye roll. “While John Madden is a legend, maybe we should start with something more educational.”
Noah covers his heart with his hand. “You wound me.”
“You’ll get over it.”
We walk for a little bit more before turning around. I’m thankful Beau stays with us, which keeps Stevie Nicks with us as well. She’s very attached to him and his ears. Poor guy.
When we get to our steps, Noah and I pause. “Do you think we should go in?”
I stare up at the house and nod. “It’s either good news or back to the clinic for another round.”
“Elle’s a trooper,” Noah says. “Nothing seems to faze her.”
“That’s not true,” I tell him. “You see what she wants you to see. I see the real her. The parts of her she hides from everyone else. She even hid from Ben for a long time because she didn’t want him to judge her. It took her a long time to really, truly open up to him. Honestly, it’s no different with me and you. You see a completely different me, especially at home. You know my ins and outs, what works for me and what doesn’t, and you know what I need. Elle wants a baby with Ben, especially after everything he’s been through.”
Noah pulls me to him and cups my cheek. “Your love for your sister is unwavering. All I meant was, the shots didn’t faze her. On the off chance she has to go through the treatment again, she can do it. She’s strong and determined. I didn’t mean to insult her.”
My hand grips his wrist and I turn my head slightly to kiss his palm. “I’m sorry. I forget that you’ve been there our entire lives. You know her too.”
“Probably more than I should being her brother-in-law.”
“True.” We climb the steps and head to the outside shower. I brush Stevie Nicks while Noah works on Beau. We’ll never get all the sand off them, and I resign myself to having sandy floors. “I’ll sweep the floors later,” I tell Noah when I give up.
He laughs, brushes off his feet then mine, and then we head into a very quiet house, which I take as a good sign.
“Hello,” I call out.
“In the living room,” Ben says.
Noah and I approach with caution and find Elle and Ben sitting on the couch. Neither of them looks at us or even each other. There’s a single pregnancy test sitting on our coffee table, on top of a paper towel. My husband directs me toward the love seat before I can reach for the stick to see if I’m going to be an aunt or not.
“You’re scaring me,” I tell my sister. “Spit it out.”
“Maybe I’m contemplating some grand reveal like you and Noah did.”
“Noah planned it, not me.”
Elle eyes Noah, who’s grinning like a fool.
“Elle,” I say her name softly. “At Thanksgiving I asked if you’d carry mine and Noah’s child and you said you couldn’t because you and Ben wanted to start a family. I said I wanted us to be pregnant at the same time if we could figure things out. Do you remember?”