I keep moving, walking straight to her front door and pulling it closed tightly behind me. When I make sure it’s locked, I head down her front steps and back to the sidewalk. The sun is now shining brightly in the sky and feels good warming my skin.
I head toward my house with a smile on my face and a heart full of something that feels a lot like hope.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Charli
I’m completely spent by the time I get home on Wednesday night.
My schedule was packed, thanks to bookings I’ve had before I found out I was pregnant, and now I realize I need to give myself a little more time between clients to go to the restroom, grab something to eat and drink, and just rest my feet for a few minutes. Right now I book them back-to-back, but if I schedule them out fifteen or thirty minutes apart, I’ll be able to take my time and do what I need to do between clients. That’ll be exceptionally necessary as I progress through my pregnancy, and something Quinn mentioned early this morning.
You know, this morning when he showed up at my door and delivered crackers and water to my bedside table? He’s done that three mornings in a row, and while I want to be annoyed at his sudden appearance in my doorway like clockwork, I’m a little grateful.
Which pisses me off even more.
I don’t want to rely on him, but I do admit having him here is nice.
Makes no sense, right? Because it sure as hell isn’t making much sense to me. I feel like I’m pushing him away yet, at the same time, begging him to stay. It’s a strong push and pull, a battle in my head I’m working through.
Yes, I want to remain independent and do things myself, but I recognize the assistance he’s offering me, even if it’s something small, like bringing water and crackers to me after I throw up.
Fortunately, my morning sickness has been contained to the early morning hours and doesn’t rear its ugly head any other time of day. If I start to feel queasy, I know I need to take a short break and put some food in my belly. Baby seems to be happy with that little burst of nutrients, even if it’s in the form of a peanut butter cracker.
The hardest part through all of this isn’t accepting help from Quinn, however. It’s keeping this secret from my family. I want to tell them, but I’m just not ready. I told Quinn on Monday I wanted to wait until our first OB appointment, which isn’t until I’m eight weeks. So, while it’s been difficult not to share my news with those I’m closest to, I can wait another two and a half weeks before spilling it.
Just as I open my fridge to figure out what I’m going to eat for dinner, there’s a knock at my door. My brothers would just walk in, so I know it’s not them. Sommer would too, and while I’d think Quinn would as well, something tells me it’s him. A quick peek through the peephole confirms my suspicions.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask as I pull the door open.
He smiles that sexy little grin of his and holds up two bags. “Special delivery.”
I step back, granting him entrance. “But I didn’t order anything,” I state, closing the door behind him.
“No, but the baby did.” He flashes me a cheeky grin that makes my core clench.
“Uhh, he did?”
“Shedid, yes.”
“She?”
He nods before continuing on to the kitchen. “It’s a girl. I can feel it.”
I roll my eyes, but my heart pounds like a snare drum in my chest.
A girl? I mean, I will be equally as happy to have a son, but the thought of a baby girl, wrapped in pink and bows makes me a bit giddy.
“Okay, so it’s a little weird you think your child somehow ordered whatever is in that bag,” I argue as I follow behind him, feigning annoyance, but secretly loving the fact he thought about the baby.
He starts removing items from the first bag, placing them on my counter. “Healthy snacks.”
I look down at the food and feel my heart skip a beat.
“All of these are OB approved as a great source of vitamins and whatnot while pregnant. Bananas, cottage cheese, Greek yogurt, which I know you’re not a fan of, but if you add berries to it, the website said it’s a double plus.” He pulls a small container of blueberries and raspberries from the bag and sets them aside. “Oh, and hard-boiled eggs. The internet says the choline is great for the baby’s brain development.”
All I can do is stand here and blink, shocked by what he’s saying.
