Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“Maybe I can meet them sometime.”
“Sure.” A sharp pain shot between my temples, and I rubbed them with my thumb and forefinger. “So what’s next?”
“I’m going to tell my family.”
“Okay.” I pictured her four menacing brothers coming at me on the ice like two pairs of defensemen, ready to take me out. I’d deserve it.
“And then I’m just going to continue working and teaching, but I’ve already let the college know I won’t be back second semester. The baby is due in April, and I’ll need some time to prepare.”
“Will you stay in your house?”
“Yes. There’s plenty of room for me and a baby there. And it’s close to my dad and his wife—he’s remarried now—and not too far from my other siblings.”
“We should probably talk about finances,” I said. “I want to support you.”
“We can work all that out later.” She reached for her water bottle and took a sip. “For now, I think we just need to get used to the idea . . . and maybe get to know each other.”
“Okay.” My stomach growled then, a long, deep groan.
“Whoa.” She laughed. “Are you hungry?”
“I guess. What about you?”
“My stomach is a little off at this time of day, but I should eat dinner eventually.”
“Do you want to go out?” I saw her hesitate at the idea, and to be honest, I didn’t really feel like going to a restaurant around here either. I’d be recognized, and the internet might gossip about me being seen with a date. “Or we could just stay here. Get takeout. Or I could cook.”
She shrank back a little, her eyebrows rising. “You cook?”
“My dad taught me how to make a few things. Do you like spaghetti?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect. It’s settled.”
She followed me to the kitchen. “Can I help?”
“Nope,” I said, going to the freezer to pull out some ground beef for the Bolognese. “Just grab a counter stool and talk to me.”
Laughing, she slid onto a stool and propped her elbows on the marble island. “That I can do. Talking is my specialty.”
I made us pasta and salad and garlic bread, and she ate some of everything with no complaints about carbs or gluten. We talked about the family recipes, the fundraiser she was organizing, the upcoming hockey season, each other’s siblings and their kids. I made an effort to pay attention to names, although she had a pretty big family, so it was hard to remember them all.
She had a lot of questions for me. “What’s your middle name?”
“Thomas. It’s my mother’s maiden name.”
“Where did you go to college?”
“Notre Dame.”
“What did you study?”
“Business.”
We didn’t talk much about the baby or how this was going to work, but I was glad for that. I needed some time to process.
Afterward, she offered to do the dishes and help clean up the kitchen, but I could see how tired she was and told her I’d handle it.
“Thanks,” she said, yawning as I walked her to the door. “That long drive wore me out.”
“I’m tired too, and I didn’t even make that drive.”
“Well, today was a lot—for both of us.” At the door, she faced me with a serious expression. “Thanks for being so understanding.”
I grimaced. “I’m not sure you should be thanking me for anything.”
“But I feel grateful. You could have turned out to be a big jerk.”
“I’ve still got time.”
She laughed. “True. Hey, speaking of time, I have an ultrasound scheduled for next week. You don’t have to be there or anything, but I wanted to let you know.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure I could get away, with training camp starting.”
“It’s okay.” Her shoulders rose. “Like I said, I don’t expect you to change your life around. I know your priority is your career right now. I’m just in a different place.”
“I should thank you for being so understanding,” I told her. “You could have come in here with a list of demands.”
She shook her head. “Not my style.”
“I’m grateful.” I glanced over my shoulder into the guest room. “Hey, I should have offered this before, but do you want to stay here tonight?”
“No,” she said without hesitation. “I already booked a room, and my car is parked in the hotel garage. Plus . . .” She looked down at her phone in her hand. “Plus, I think it’s best if we don’t confuse things.”
“Confuse things?”
She chewed her bottom lip. “I just think this will work better if we stay really clear on the boundaries. It would be bad for everyone involved if things got—complicated between us.”
I nodded, knowing she was right, glad at least one of us was this level-headed. “Can I at least pay for your room and the parking?”
“Maybe next time,” she said with a smile.
“Okay. Well . . . call me, I guess?”
“I will. I have your number now.” She wagged her phone.