Page 30 of Pack Plus Three

Daisy: I am, it’s just a little daunting.

Devon: We can be patient men. Now, I've answered your question and you need to get some sleep. You're growing a little human. That requires rest!

Daisy: I am getting tired. Thank you so much for telling me what to make. I appreciate it.

Devon: I'm more than happy to accept appreciation in the form of cookies. I'm just saying.

I laughed loudly, my hand flying to my mouth when I realized how loudly I’d just laughed at four in the morning.

Daisy: Done.

Chapter 14

Daisy

Istirred the pot once, leaning in to smell the sauce I was attempting to make. I'd wanted to do something nice for Jeremy, so I was preparing fresh chicken breasts, sweet potato fries, and a medley of greens that I was going to douse in a homemade cheese sauce.

Only, thanks to pregnancy ruining my sense of smell and taste, I couldn't tell if the cheese sauce was incredibly bland or over salted.

Jeremy had left early in the morning for his game, but he had left his keys with me so I could get into the apartment and keep Gilbert company while baking. The first thing I did was make a raspberry-and-honey layered sponge cake.

Then I’d followed Devon’s advice and scrounged the well-stocked fridge to put together a sensible, healthy meal. I’d known what time Jeremy was due to come home because he had told me in explicit detail. He’d wanted me to know he wouldn't be back too late, so I wouldn't have to stay with Gilbert too long.

Not that I would have minded. I would have happily snuggled with Gilbert on the couch late into the evening. He was basically a breathing pregnancy pillow, so fluffy and so comfortable.

I had also turned on his gigantic TV and flicked through the channels until I’d found the California Chargers game. Hockey was clearly important to Jeremy, even if he didn't intend to play forever, and I found myself curious about that part of his life.

The players had whizzed across the ice as I peeled the sweet potatoes. It was almost impossible to keep track of any of them, even with the helpful commentary. By the time I was cutting the sweet potatoes into fries, I had only glimpsed Jeremy once, and I had only recognized him because he had removed his helmet to take a drink of water at the exact moment the camera panned to him.

The game was broken into three periods, each lasting twenty minutes. Then there was a twenty-minute gap between each. Between the speed of the game and the short periods, it felt like no time at all. When I was putting the sweet potatoes in the oven and seasoning the chicken breasts, the game was already halfway done.

I purposely left part of the chicken unseasoned so I could give Gilbert a little snack as I was dishing up the meal.

“Do you want this?” I asked sweetly as he sat at my feet, giving me those gorgeous puppy dog eyes. “You're impossible to say no to, you know that? No wonder your daddy can't stop giving you cheese.”

On the word cheese, his ears perked up, and he started tapping his paws ever so lightly against the floor in excitement.

Oh, crap. I had said the C word out loud.

“I guess I can't let you down now.” I sighed, moving across the kitchen to the fridge and pulling out a slice of cheese. “Don't tell your daddy,” I whispered as I leaned down to feed the gentle giant. Content with his snacks, he gave my palm one last rub with his nose before wandering over to his bed and flopping down with a satisfied harrumph.

As the game came to a close, I started to focus more on the task at hand. Jeremy had told me that there would be a short meeting after the game, and then he would come straight home. We were only fifteen minutes away from the rink, so he would be home imminently.

My timing was impeccable. As I placed the chicken breast, smothered in butter, on his plate, I was alerted to someone at the front door when Gilbert jumped up and ran at a breakneck speed to the door in pure excitement.

“Hey, boy!” Jeremy’s voice drifted in from the doorway, where he was no doubt fussing over the excitable dog. “Have you been looking after Daisy?” he asked. Footsteps echoed around the apartment as he rounded the corner to the kitchen.

Freshly showered, Jeremy looked divine. He wore a pair of simple black jeans and a black T-shirt, with his messy hair, still damp from the shower, slicked back. The now familiar scent of sawdust and fresh hay was extra potent, fresh out of the shower. When he noticed me, his grin became even wider.

“It smells amazing in here,” he said, coming straight over to me and enveloping me in a hug. Despite my heavily rounded stomach, I molded into his side with ease.

“I made dinner,” I told him.

“You did?” he asked excitedly.

“I remember you said you preferred healthier food after a game, so I made chicken and sweet potato fries.”

Jeremy’s grin somehow got wider. “You remembered? How did you know exactly what I eat after a game?”

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