Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Fine.” I lifted my chin and stood tall, doing my best to look down my nose at him. “But you better feed me because I’m hangry and I’ll snap your head off if you breathe wrong.”
He laughed but sobered quickly when I didn’t join him. “Okay. Let’s go back inside.”
Reaching out, he tried to direct me back inside with a hand to my back, but I stepped away. “No.” He turned to me with wide eyes, probably expecting another argument. “I want a Big Mac now. So that’s where we’re going.”
“McDonald’s?” He looked at me like I said I wanted to dine in Timbuktu, and I glared harder. “Okay. McD’s it is.”
We ended up driving separately, and it didn’t take long before I decided not to kill Ian when he set a Big Mac meal in front of me. He stared with a mixture of amusement and awe as he watched me suck down a small coke and sigh in satisfaction.
“So, any other cravings?”
“Not right now,” I said around a bite of French fries. I quickly moved on to my Big Mac and giggled a little at how happy I felt when that tangy sauce hit my tongue. We ate in silence--well, him in silence and me moaning around every bite.
“Thank you.” I sighed and wiped my mouth, slouching back in the hard, plastic chair, rubbing my belly. Ian watched every movement of my hands, choosing not to comment on my complete mood swing now that I’d eaten.
“How has the pregnancy been?”
My hands paused, and I looked up, losing myself a little in his gray eyes. They always fascinated me, the color so unique and sharp. I shook my head out of my trance and remembered his question.
“It’s been okay. Nothing monumental. I had morning sickness, but nothing too extreme. I’m uncomfortable most of the time, especially now, but nothing is wrong. So, I’m grateful for that.”
“Good. I’m glad everything is okay. Are there any other cravings I should know about?”
I laughed when he looked down at the meal that no longer existed with raised eyebrows. “Not really. Nothing consistent. Except fruit. Which makes me think it’s a boy. It’s one of those old-wives-tales that you crave more sour things when it’s a boy. Sweets if it’s a girl.”
His head cocked to the side. “I’m surprised you don’t want to know the sex. You are always so in control of everything; I figured you’d want to be with this too.”
“Nope. I want to be surprised when he or she arrives.”
“You’re not curious? How are you buying things?”
“I just buy everything in gray and yellow. And I’m not finding out the sex, so don’t bother trying to change my mind,” I defended.
He held up his hands in surrender. “Wouldn’t think of it. I’m excited to be surprised with you.”
“Good.”
“When is the due date?”
“October eighth.”
Ian blinked a few times and sat back in his seat like the date made it more real and knocked him back. “Wow. So soon.”
“Yup.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“Do you need anything? Anything I can buy for the baby—for you?”
A lump formed in my throat and I forced it back down. Jesus, Carina, he offered to buy you some diapers, not sweep you off your feet.
“No, I have everything. I’ve had quite a few baby showers, so I’m pretty stocked up. The rest I’ll get as I go. Although I still need to get one of those fancy glider chairs for the room. I’ve read they’re essential.”
“Okay. Good. If you need anything else, let me know. I’ll get it.”
I offered a small smile that he returned, and we settled into silence, because the easy stuff was covered, and the bigger topics were looming.
“What do we do next?” he asked.
I helpfully offered a shrug.
“Do you want me in the room? To hold your hand?”
That lump rose again at the eagerness in his voice. He wanted to be there for the delivery, and his words from earlier in the night finally hit me with some truth. This meant something to him, no matter how he screwed up, it did mean something.
But I didn’t know what I wanted next. All of a sudden, this pregnancy—that had been racing at me a second ago—seemed so far away. Like a lifetime could happen between us in the next four weeks.
“We have a month. Can we just…take some time? Get to know each other?”
“Yeah,” he gave an easy nod and swallowed. “Yeah. Whatever you need.”
“Thank you.”
“Will you let me know if anything happens—if you go into labor?”
“Of course. I’ll keep you updated.”
“Thank you.”
Silence settled again, but it lacked the stress and tension. It was lighter like we had cleared some fog and we could see more of the path in front of us, even if everything beyond was still hazy. At least we had somewhere to start.