“And fries?” She arches her pretty brow.
“With Ranch.”
I stare at her mouth as she bites into the club sandwich, and once again, my dick notices. Choosing to stop torturing myself, I slide off the stool and walk over to the baby area. Something in my gut clenches painfully. But I’ve got to push that back down deep. Very deep. “I like what you’ve done in here.” There have been several changes since I was here a week ago. For one, there’s bedding in the crib. It matches the wallpaper. The mobile above the crib has the same animals as in the wallpaper too. “It all matches.”
“Yeah. I loved that print, so I decided to run with it.”
“Good choice.” I take another step into the space and see three floating shelves above the changing table. The first shelf has baby wipes and newborn diapers. On the middle shelf, photos. There’s one with Maggy and her friend Robin, and a second one with Maggy and another woman. From the resemblance, I’d say this was her mother.
“That was my mom,” Maggy says from right behind me. She’s so close, it makes the hair on my neck stand on end. Not in a bad way, mind you. This woman makes me feel charged in all the right ways. It’s too bad.
“You look alike.”
“Yeah.” Maggy’s voice sounds sad. “She was an awesome mom. I hope I’m half the mom she was.”
Turning to face her, I give her my most sincere smile. “You’ll be a great mom.”
Her eyes get glassy, and a tear slides down her cheek. “You think?”
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
Reaching out, I take one of her hands in mine and say softly, “Because I know everything.”
And that’s all it takes for her to throw her head back, revealing that gorgeous neck of hers, and laugh. Heartily. When she finally stops, she’s got tears again, but these are from laughter. I much prefer those over the other ones. “Where did this funny Nate come from?”
I have to think about that comment for a second. It was sort of offensive. “I’mfunny.”
She steps away from me. Walking back to the kitchen, she looks back over her shoulder. “You’re a lot of things, but funny isn’t one of them.”
“I’m funny.” I pause. “I can be.”
She’s stopped at the counter where her food sits. “Robin has a new name for you every week, and there’s never been one that means funny.”
“A new name? Like what?” I think this is gonna piss me off.
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yeah. I really do.” Do I?
“Okay.” She looks up and taps her chin. “There’s fussiguss.”
What the ever-loving fuck?
I stay quiet. I need to hear more.
“Grumptious, grumpleumpagus…”
“FromSesame Street?”
“That’s Snuffleupagus.”
I stare at her and slowly squint. “And?”
“Oh, well, that’s about it.”
“No.” I can tell by her expression, there are others. “What else?”
