“Pretty good,” Hanna says. “The morning sickness has let up and I’m not quite as tired anymore.”
“That’s great news!” Nix looks at me. “And how’s Dad handling the pregnancy? Are you ready for this?”
Hanna’s eyes dart to me then Nix. “He’s not… I mean, we’re not living together or anything, Nix. He’s just the dad.”
Just the dad
sounds way too much like
just the sperm donor,
and I don’t like that. “Yet,” I mutter. “Not living together
yet
.”
Nix’s eyes go wide for a moment. Then she begins her exam—poking at Hanna’s hipbones and feeling her belly as she asks questions. Hanna hides it well beneath her clothing, but when her belly’s exposed, I can see where it’s begun to round with pregnancy, and I’m irrationally jealous that Nix gets to touch her.
“Shall we take a listen?” Nix asks. She pulls a giant bottle of jelly from the wall and uses the Doppler to smear it over Hanna’s stomach. While she searches for a heartbeat, we listen to the
whoosh-whoosh
of the womb, and I take Hanna’s hand.
Our eyes connect as the
whoosh-whoosh
becomes the sound of our baby’s heart.
Dear God.
I forgot how amazing that sound is. How inconsequential the rest of the petty bullshit feels when you’re listening to the tiny, miraculous heart of an unborn child.
“There’s baby one,” Nix says. “Sounds great.”
Hanna squeezes my hand as Nix rubs the Doppler over a different location on her belly, and again, all the whooshing is replaced by the beautiful drumbeat of a baby’s heart.
“And there’s baby two.”
I
WISH
I knew what he was thinking. His face looks almost pained as Nix turns off the Doppler and wipes off my belly, but I can’t read him.
“I did some research,” Nix says. “I didn’t want to refer you out to just anybody, but I called some colleagues who work in Indianapolis and found an awesome obstetrician for you.”
Frowning, I reposition my gown and sit up on the table. “What do you mean, refer me? I want you to be my doctor.”
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. “I can’t do that. Not in good conscience. Even if there weren’t other concerns about your pregnancy, the fact that you’re pregnant with twins is enough of a reason for you to see a high-risk doctor. Add to that the less-than-ideal health you were in when you got pregnant and I think it would be best for you to be in the hands of a specialist.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. “You think there could be something wrong with my babies.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” She places her hand on top of mine. “I’m just saying I want you to have the best care possible. You have enough to worry about. The quality of your prenatal care shouldn’t be on that list. Shall we set up your appointment for you?”
I nod. “Okay.”
Nix grins. “Don’t look so glum! You’re in your second trimester—this is as good as it gets. The morning sickness will go away, and the worst of your breast tenderness along with it. You’ll get your energy back. Enjoy it. Do you have any questions for me?” She looks back and forth between Nate and me.
“Not right now,” I say.
“You can get dressed, then. I’ll see you out front.”
I wait until she leaves the room before turning to Nate, and I find him staring at me.
“May I walk you home?” he asks.
“Sure.”
Without being asked, he turns around while I get dressed. We make our way up front, bundle into our coats, and step outside.
“I have to leave in a couple of days,” Nate says after we’ve walked a couple of blocks. “Collin misses his mom, and I need to take care of some things in LA.”
“Oh.” I shake my head, trying to make the disappointment scatter. He sends texts to check on me, but it’s not like we’ve been spending time together over the last few weeks. I guess I just found his nearness a comfort. “How long will you be gone?”
He shoves his hands in his pockets, and his breath puffs out like smoke in the cool air as he exhales. “A couple of weeks at least. I’ve been away too long, and I need to take care of some things if I’m going to spend time here after the babies are born.”
I draw in a breath. “You’re going to spend time here?”
We’re outside my bakery, but he stops and turns to me, tilts my chin up with his fingers. “When I say I’m going to be in their lives, I don’t just mean I want my name on their birth certificates. I mean the dirty diapers and the sleepless nights.”
“It’s just…not convenient.”
“Worthwhile things rarely are.” His eyes go hooded, and his hand doesn’t leave my face.
“What are you thinking about?”
His gaze drops to my lips. “You.”
I swallow. “What about me?”
“How much I want to kiss you.”
My heart stumbles. Because I want him to kiss me. And I shouldn’t.
“Do you remember my kisses, angel?” He skims his thumb over my lower lip, and something churns in my belly—hot and low and hungry.
“I remember.” My mind instantly conjures a catalogue of kisses. Outside the club, the cool air on my face, the brick against my back. In his pool, my naked body pressed against his. On his bed, his dark eyes intense as he slid into me for the first time.
He lowers his mouth until it’s just above mine, his breath warm and sweet against my lips.
“Don’t.”
He groans so low I can hardly hear it. “You want me to.”
“You promised you wouldn’t until I asked,” I remind him.
His mouth moves to my ear, and his lips graze the sensitive shell as he speaks. “You’re going to ask, Hanna. We both know you’re going to ask.”
“We can’t be lovers.”
“What
can
we be?”
“Friends.”
“N
OW YOU
can open your eyes.”
I do as my mother says and find myself face to face with…an open field. “Okay…”
“This land is for sale. I thought you could build your house here.” She picked me up from the bakery, and we drove for thirty minutes. Out of New Hope and into stretches of cornfields that are conveniently located near more cornfields.
“Where are we?”
“Just a little drive outside of New Hope, but isn’t it beautiful?”
“I don’t have any money to build a house,” I say cautiously.
“Well, sure you will—after you and Max get back together and you get married. You’ll have your trust fund. I can just see you building out here, raising the babies in it, having a big yard for them to run in, and you can host dinners and we’ll all drive over to see you.”
I burst into tears, but it feels more like I’m smacked upside the face with them. “I don’t want anyone to have to drive to see me,” I snivel. “I don’t want to live in LA and I don’t want to live in the middle of a bunch of cornfields half an hour from my family. I want to live in New Hope. I want to be there when Abby starts dating and when Maggie has babies. I want to be here to watch Lizzy’s preschool turn into the best preschool for miles and when you get old and senile.” I draw in a ragged breath. “I don’t want to leave. Is there something so wrong with that?”
Mom’s face softens. “No. There’s nothing wrong with that at all.” She draws me into her arms and strokes my hair. “Nothing at all.”
“I’m not going to get back together with Max,” I say. “I can’t marry him. It’s over.”
“What? Why? Is this about that rocker? Are you going to be with
him
?”
“No. Yes.” I shake my head.
It’s been weeks since I gave Max his ring back, and he’s been as wonderful as he ever was before. He’s been helping at the bakery while I’ve been doing interviews to replace Liz, he’s brought me groceries when he thought I might be too tired to shop, and two nights ago, I caught him applying non-skid surface to the stairs to my apartment. He’s sweet and wonderful. The terrifying months waiting before me would be so much easier if he were by my side.
“You still love him,” she says into my hair. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this to yourself.”
I pull out of her arms and take a deep breath. “I need to ask you a favor, and I want you to consider it before you say no.”
“Okay.”
“Max is the silent partner for my bakery, and I want to buy him out. He’s trying to get custodial rights to his daughter. He needs the money.” If he had the money, he might be able to hire more help at the club again, and he needs time more than he needs anything else. Sam and Will have been helping when they can, but that only goes so far. “Could you give me access to my trust so I can buy him out? I’m not asking for any more than that. Just enough to buy out his portion and pay off the mortgage on the building.”
She studies me for a minute then shakes her head. “I would if I could, but those trusts were established by your father. We’d have quite a court battle on our hands if we wanted to go outside his terms, and we’d probably lose.” She sighs. “I know this is important to you, and I’m sorry I can’t change that.”
My eyes burn with tears. Stupid hormones. “It’s okay. I’ll figure out another way.”