Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Again, with the feather.
“And I’ll take care of my mother,” he continued. “Make sure she doesn’t keep up with her stupid campaign.”
I bit back a smile, wishing I got to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. His mother had indeed tried half assed attempts to ‘make me pay’. I’d had surprise health inspections—which I passed because I kept the bakery clean as hell. There had been all sorts of random delays with shipments, permits. But I’d sorted it all out. What I couldn’t, Rowan did.
It was nothing more than an inconvenience but I would be glad not to deal with it anymore.
“Thank you,” I told Nathan.
He nodded. “Have a good life, Nora,” he said, turning and walking away.
Though I had no secrets from Rowan, I figured that interaction didn’t need to be shared. We had enough going on.
We had arguments about bills, as I expected we would. Rowan had wanted to take over the entire mortgage… I had fought against that. It might’ve turned into a sticking point if he hadn’t relented, realizing what kind of victory it was for me to maintain my house. So, we went halves.
Though, we’d spoken about combining finances once we were married, and I hadn’t argued. Whether it was feminist or not, I agreed with combining finances when you were married. I hadn’t realized just how much money Rowan made until Calliope had spoken about it at Christmas. I told him that he needed a prenup when we got married. He’d responded with, “Cupcake, I’m never fuckin’ letting you go.”
Though that might’ve been a line from anyone else, it was a vow for Rowan.
“If you want me to sign something, make you feel better about the bakery, I will,” he’d offered after that.
I stared at him in shock. “I thought you just said you were never going to let me go?”
“I’m not,” he returned earnestly. “But I know how much the bakery means to you. Want to make sure you feel protected. Safe.”
“I do,” I pulled him toward me. “With you.”
That was that. Hard conversations weren’t that hard with Rowan.
I shouldn’t have been that nervous about telling Rowan I was pregnant. We’d been trying for this. It wouldn’t be a surprise.
But I wanted to make it special. Despite my swirling stomach, I planned on presenting Rowan with the little onesie I had hidden in our closet and dressing Maggie up in the ‘big sister’ shirt I’d gotten her. Though she’d hated it during the trial run.
It would be great.
“Cupcake, what’s on your mind?” Rowan asked as he put the truck in park. I could see Maggie’s face in the window beside the front door. She was waiting for us, like she always did.
“You’ve been quiet the whole day,” he murmured, turning to me.
“I’m pregnant,” I blurted, unable to keep it in anymore.
Rowan blinked once before he grinned. Ear to ear. “You’re carrying my baby.”
I nodded.
“You’re carrying my baby.”
Again, I nodded.
Rowan didn’t say anything else.
He got out of the car.
I deflated a little. Rowan was a man of few words with a lot of people. And he was still moody and borderline grumpy. He often didn’t react in ways I expected. But I’d expected a little more fanfare.
Before I could get out of the car, the door opened, and he pulled me out, carrying me in his arms.
“Rowan!” I squealed.
“Need to carry you over the threshold,” he grunted.
I smiled. “That’s for brides.”
“Gotta do that too. Get married.”
I looked up at him. “Is that a proposal?”
He walked us in the door, Maggie running around his legs in greeting. “Got a ring,” he said in answer. “Was gonna do a big thing at dinner at Carlisle’s tomorrow.”
I laughed. We had both made big plans that went to shit, it seemed.
He shifted his weight in order to reach into his pocket and retrieve a ring.
“You’ve been walking around with that in your pocket? Without a box?” I gasped, horrified as he slipped it on my finger.
My eyes were wide as I took in the emerald cut diamond. It was vintage, I could tell right away from the look of it, the setting, the cluster of diamonds on either side.
It was the ring I would’ve designed for myself.
“You would’ve noticed the box in my pocket.” He shrugged.
“But you could’ve lost it!” I cried. “My gorgeous, perfect engagement ring.” I held it up to the light, captivated by the way it sparkled. The way it looked like an extension of my hand.
“But I didn’t lose it,” Rowan argued.
He grabbed my chin. “You’re really pregnant?” he was whispering now. I’d never heard Rowan actually whisper. His eyes were glassy.
I nodded. “I’m really pregnant.”
“Best day of my life, cupcake.”
I might’ve burst into tears if he didn’t say the next thing.
“And I’m gonna make it even better,” he growled, kissing me and carrying me upstairs.