Leslie jotted that down and turned to Logan.
“I’ll have a hamburger, medium well, and fries,” he said, closing his menu and handing it to Leslie. Claire did the same.
When Leslie was gone again, Logan looked at Claire, a brow raised. “Spicy? I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who likes spicy food.”
“Normally I don’t,” she conceded, “but the baby does. I get spicy food cravings all the time.”
A half-smile quirked his lips. “I don’t think the baby can tell the difference.”
She shrugged. “All I know is that I want spicy food and raspberry yogurt. I just obey.”
Logan chuckled, the sound deep and pleasant. Claire liked to hear him laugh. He did it so infrequently. “Do you think the baby is a boy or a girl?”
“I don’t know.” Claire’s hand crept to her rounded midriff. “I haven’t really given it much thought.”
“I have,” Logan admitted, his voice soft. “I have a room I’d like to set aside for a nursery, and I was wondering if I should have it painted blue or pink.”
Claire liked the idea of Logan contemplating painting a nursery for their baby. Her initial concerns about his fathering abilities had long faded. She expected him to dote on the baby, probably to the point of spoiling him or her terribly. Just the thought of Logan cradling their tiny baby in his arms, of the look of awe and love on his face when he held him or her for the first time, made a big lump swell in her throat.
Think nursery, she told herself firmly,before you start crying right here in the middle of the restaurant.
“Maybe you should paint it yellow,” she suggested, her voice sounding husky even to her own ears. “Unless you want me to ask the doctor at the next sonogram?”
“No.” Logan shook his head. “I like wondering.”
“I do too.”
“At least we agree on something.”
She smiled. “We’ll have to agree on at least one other thing. A name.”
“Did you have any in mind?” From his tone, it was clear to Claire that he did.
“Not yet,” she answered honestly. “I haven’t been able to find any I names like enough. What do you think?”
“Well,” he paused, looking hesitant, like a boy about to be told he was kicked off the baseball team. “What do you think about the name Julie for a girl?”
“Julie.” Claire tried the name on her tongue and found she liked it. “It’s a pretty name. What made you think of it?”
He looked a little sheepish. “I saw it on a license plate on the drive down here, and it just struck me. We have plenty of time to decide on names, though. We don’t have to decide anything now.”
“No.” Claire’s tone was thoughtful. “I like the name Julie for a girl. I think it fits.”
“I’ll be damned.” Logan grinned at her, looking boyishly sexy. “We agreed on two things.”
“We did,” she said, grinning foolishly back at him. “Amazingly enough, we actually did.”
Maybe, she thought, coming on this vacation with Logan had been a step in the right direction. They were certainly making some headway already, and she planned to cover much more ground before the week was over. Yes, coming here with him had been the right decision to make. No doubt about it.
Agreeing to accompany Logan on this trip had been a mistake. No doubt about it.
Claire glared at the receptionist at their hotel as if she were part of the conspiracy. “What do you mean you only have one room available?”
The woman, looking very regal with her ice-gray hair in an upswept ’do and a diamond pin winking from the bodice of her black dress, sent Claire an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, but there must have been some sort of clerical error. We’re overbooked. Are you sure you booked two rooms, Mr. Monroe?”
Logan looked grim. “Absolutely sure. I booked one previously, and when my plans changed, I booked another online.”
“Do you have a confirmation number?”
