“Yep.” He pops the P.
He rocks on his heels but doesn’t move, nor do my eyes that remain latched to his, but a few seconds later, we both seem to shake away the moment.
“Ladies,” he says to my friends who I forgot are here.
When he is out of earshot and across Foxy Rox to order his coffee, which is useless because before he can say anything, the barista is already handing him his black coffee with a dash of almond milk, because I got him addicted long ago.
Hailey and Esme huddle closer to the table, and their eyes blaze.
“Ooh, someone wants to do fantastic things to you,” Esme whispers loudly.
“It’s the eyes,” Hailey adds.
“Shh. Will you quiet it down,” I implore because I don’t need the entire place to hear.
Esme shrugs. “What? It’s obvious.”
“Well, doing wicked things to one another is what got me in this position, and going into the physical-only part is a bad idea. We actually need to communicate about the bigger issues.”
Hailey brings her finger to her chin to think. “Hmm, communicate. What a novel idea.”
My cheeks grow big from my frustrated breath because they are relentless today… also right.
“I’m just… waiting for the right time. It’s a little nerve-wracking, to be honest,” I admit.
Hailey takes another bite of her brownie and tilts her head side to side. “You’re eventually going to have to take the plunge. Hate to break it to you, but you also have a clock ticking.”
“I’m aware.” I glance down at my belly and smile softly to myself. “He or she needs parents who are not a hot mess on the relationship front, whatever it may be.”
“There’s a t-shirt for that, I’m sure.” Esme is dead serious. “‘My parents are a hot mess,’” she deadpans.
My head falls onto my arm that’s been resting on the table, because that will absolutely not be a shirt that I need on the baby registry. I’m sure of it.
* * *
Crouching down,I smell the rosemary that’s growing in a few pots outside on the back patio. I’ve noticed it already, but today on this sunny day, it’s extra… significant, maybe?
It’s my favorite of herbs. Great for recipes, a wonderful smell, and it carries part of my name. I always had a few pots when I was married. Along with basil, lavender, and chives. But Carter only has rosemary. I doubt he uses it too. A little crack inside of me slowly seals together because these plants are not new. You can tell by the pots that he has had these for a long time. Which perhaps means that maybe, just maybe, it’s because he was thinking of me.
“You noticed.” The sound of Carter’s thin voice causes me to flinch because he startles me.
I stand up as my body cools off from the surprise. “Geez. Scare me, why don’t ya. I had no clue you were home.”
That smirk crawls on his lips, with his stubble short enough today that it highlights his defined jaw. “Already for a few minutes.”
My head retreats slightly. “You’ve been watching me?”
“Nah. Only thirty seconds, if that counts as watching.”
My eyes float over my shoulder to the pots. “You have rosemary. Why?”
His tongue slides across his upper teeth, and a silence stretches for a few beats. “Why do you have a box of trolls in your room?” he counters, and yet again, my body surges with nerves.
I didn’t realize he found it. There is no time like the present to be honest. I grow shy and look off to the side. “Because I collected them.”
He steps closer, and my breath grows heavy. “Why?”
“I-I… just… It made me… You would enjoy them one day, plus… it’s what people do when they think of someone.”Whoosh.There, I said it.
