Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Of course it would matter.” Leaning forward, he gave a frustrated gesture. “Wren is more than a bit of a gossip. It would only be a matter of time before Maren and Diesel found out, and then all hell would break loose.”
“You really think they’d be mad?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Eric scrubbed at his short hair as his voice turned pained. “It would be awkward. I know that much. And create unrealistic expectations.”
“For who?” By some miracle, I kept my tone curious, not pointed. Inside, however, I was increasingly certain the only one with unrealistic expectations was me.
“Everyone.” Eric huffed as he dug the remote out of the couch cushions. “Can we get back to the movie? I want to rewind a bit.”
“Me too.” I tried to meet his gaze, but he was too busy fiddling with the remote and trying to hightail it out of this conversation.
“Today was a wonderful day.” He gave me a lightning-fast pat on the knee. “We’ve got a great thing going. Let’s not ruin it.”
“Good idea,” I said. Too bad the ruining was starting to feel inevitable. What I wanted, Eric might not be capable of offering.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Eric
I arrived home from an overnight shift to the sound of female voices in the living room. Maren’s first prenatal appointment of the new year. Not wanting to interrupt but not nearly exhausted enough to attempt sleep, I busied myself cleaning the kitchen from the kids’ breakfast. Rowan was back in LA, while today was the first day of school after the break for John and Wren.
Perhaps if I scrubbed the counter hard enough, the granite would yield answers to the jumble of the questions rattling around in my head, most of which were about Magnus. We’d both worked New Year’s Eve, so it had been a few days since we’d connected, leaving me uneasy for reasons I was trying to figure out. Magnus wanted…something. What, I wasn’t entirely certain, but all December, he’d seemed increasingly unsettled with our arrangement. Providing me with his test results had been a sweet gesture, but it felt far more serious than the fling this was supposed to be. However, I didn’t know many flings that went on this many months either.
As I finished the counters, Maren’s visit with Marissa seemed to be wrapping up, with the sound of the front door closing echoing from the front of the house. Moments later, Maren clomped into the kitchen in a pair of fuzzy socks, an oversized T-shirt for a German metal band that had to be one of Diesel’s, and stretchy yoga maternity pants.
“I need a favor.”
“Anything.” The baby’s arrival inched closer by the day, and the whole household was attuned to Maren’s moods and cravings. Even tired from the long shift, I was happy to do whatever she needed.
“I’m still measuring small on fundal height. Marissa says everything is likely fine by all her other metrics, but I should have another ultrasound for peace of mind to make sure home birth is still the right choice for us. She found me an appointment in an hour, but Diesel’s at work and can’t leave. And Marissa would come with me, but she has another client who needs post-partum help. Will you come? I’m scared.”
“Of course.” I came around the island to offer her a hug. “I’ll drive, and we’ll get you a limeade after. How’s that?”
“I’m not fourteen.” Maren half groaned, half laughed before giving up and rolling her eyes at me.
“You’d rather a coffee? Milkshake?”
“Dad.” Continuing to chuckle, she shook her head at me. “Fine. You’ve got me. Now I’m craving a strawberry shake.”
“See? My plan to distract you is already working.” I grinned at her, making a concerted effort not to reveal my own worries and unease. I’d been feeling a bit left out of the pregnancy. Caleb, Rowan, and Wren had taken over shower planning. Diesel and Maren had wanted to decorate the basement nursery nook themselves. Other friends had offered gently used baby items.
It was nice to be needed, a thought I held on to as we made our way to my SUV a short while later.
“I don’t know what I’m more worried about,” Maren said as she carefully buckled the seat belt around her belly. “I want the baby to be okay, and I also really want to avoid a hospital birth if I can.”
“Sometimes—”
“I know.” She held up a hand. “And I know there are many amazing medical professionals who work in hospitals. I’ve met a lot of them. It’s the hospital itself—the sounds, smells, equipment.”
“It’s triggering for a lot of people, not just you.” I pitched my voice soothing as we drove to the medical complex. Outpatient radiology wasn’t in the hospital per se, but the adjacent building was likely close enough in Maren’s mind. “And if it comes to a hospital birth, we will all do everything we can to make it homey for you—music, blanket and pillow from home, anything else you want. And you’ll have Marissa and Diesel for support. Maybe Wren can teach us about aromatherapy to help with the smell issue too.”