Page 70 of Salty Pickle

“You think the condom was defective?”

“Did anything seem wrong with it when you took it off?”

I think back. I remember pulling out of her and grabbing a Kleenex from a box on the side table. “I didn’t inspect it. Did you feel extra juicy?”

She bites her lip again. “I was, uh, pretty wet already.”

My dick stirs at that. “I seem to recall that.”

“It was pretty hot, the whole thing.”

“It was.”

She fiddles with the linen napkin in her lap. “I don’t usually do things like that.”

“And here we are.”

“Here we are.” She meets my gaze, and I wonder if she’s thinking about that night. I sure as hell am.

She’s not far. I could reach out and touch her easily. Run my fingers up her arm. Tangle them in her hair. Bring her face to mine.

I’m already cock-deep in the memory of her at the doctor’s office, naked, glowing, round and soft. My hands twitch with the need to travel over the mound of her belly.

She’s here. We could test this thing. See what else there might be.

We stare at each other. Is she leaning in? What can we even do? Would sex hurt the baby? Does she want that?

Would it complicate things?

I’m on the verge of reaching for her, when she blurts, “I appreciate you letting me stay nearby until the baby is born. I understand you need proof.”

Right, proof.

I wait a second, see if we can slide back into the magic, but she’s looking away, her foot tapping anxiously on the floor.

The moment has passed. I probably imagined it. “It’s fine. We’ll get you situated on a farm again once that big expo or whatever is over.”

“Caroline invited me to that.”

“Did you want to go?”

“I did, but I couldn’t go with her knowing about the operation at the back of her farm.”

That makes sense. “What do you want, Lucy? How do you see this playing out?”

Her brows draw together. “I don’t know.”

“You must have had some idea as you were traveling several days to get here.”

Her laugh is rueful. “I think I was just trying to get from moment to moment during that. But I wondered what it would be like to meet you again. I remembered you as being gruff.”

I kick back in my chair. “I’ve been told that.”

“What makes Court so salty?”

Not going there.

I stand and pick up my plate. “You want more? Are you done?”

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