“Oh God, I’m sorry, Jamie. I just... I can’t... I’m too... This is all...”
The doorbell buzzed and the bedroom door flung open. “Rafe’s back,” said Holly, hopping as she tugged on a stiletto.
“I’ll go down and let him in,” Jamie said, touching his fist to his mouth as he turned his back.
Shit. What an idiot. Here was Jamie trying to build her confidence, and she went and slayed his, punching him in his weak spot because she was so wrapped up in her own fears. A drowning woman pulling down her rescuer.
“Are you okay, Samira?” Holly said.
“Dehnanay,”Samira said, sitting down hard on a dining chair. “Er, fine.”
“Is something going on between you and Doc?”
Samira blinked. Holly wore Laura’s trademark sooty eye makeup—a few smudges short of two black eyes—but still somehow managed to not look like a zombie. Her irises stood out so bright blue they were difficult to tear focus from. And even harder to lie to.
“It’s...got a little complicated, yes. But, no, there’s nothing...”
“He’s a good guy.”
“I know. But he’s not available, so...”
“Neither was Rafe when I met him. When this is over, when you can breathe easy again, give him a chance. He deserves a second chance. Everyone does.”
Jamie returned, followed by Rafe. Holly smiled at Samira then turned to Rafe, swishing her dress like a flamenco dancer, a matching scarf trailing from her neck, her lips a glossy scarlet. “What do you think?” She clutched a handful of her newly cut hair. “We’re waiting for Laura to post a photo so we can style my hair to match. I’m hoping she’s going for messy tonight and not sleek.”
Samira cringed. Cutting someone’s hair had been another first in a long few days of firsts.
“You look amazing, of course.” The look in Rafe’s eyes, the creak in his voice, made Samira feel like an intruder. Her belly hollowed. She hadn’t allowed herself to feel loneliness in so long, but seeing two people so obviously in love... After coming so close yet so far with Jamie...
“There’s one problem,” Rafe said. “You don’t look like Holly anymore.”
Holly playfully swatted his shoulder and he grabbed her arm and spun her in a faux fighting move. But he finished by pulling her close, his chest against her back, his hand resting lightly on her belly. She laughed, covering his hand with hers. Samira glanced at Jamie. He was watching them, too, frowning.
“I’m not showing, am I?” Holly said, looking down at their hands. “This dress isn’t forgiving.”
“Oh my God,” Samira said, standing. “You’re pregnant?”
Holly fixed her with a tough-girl look that was about as far from Laura as it was possible to get. “I’ve survived much worse. I can defend myself.”
Rafe spun her again, gently, to face him. “You won’t be doing anything risky. No ninja moves. I’ll be right there the whole time.”
“I’m pregnant, not disabled. Tell him, Doc.”
“How many weeks?” Jamie said, a happy disbelief in his tone.
“Hardly enough to count. I found out last week.”
“Then the baby’s well protected,” Jamie said. “Still a jelly baby inside a pumpkin.”
“I need a nervous pee,” Holly said, heading for the bathroom. “Can I blame that on the jelly baby?”
Samira didn’t know whether to be relieved that someone else was admitting to nerves, or worried that a woman with Holly’s evident confidence was nervous.
I wish I had your confidence.
You do.
“Congrats,” Jamie said, holding out his hand to Rafe.
