Page 96 of Harper

“Going down to twenty-five tonight.”

I sip my coffee, my nerves getting the best of me. “So, um—”

“Did you make your travel plans yet?” Joe asks. “To get to Anchorage in two weeks?”

Our twenty-week ultrasound will be in Anchorage the Monday after Thanksgiving. We’ll find out a lot about the baby’s anatomy at that time, check the placenta and—if we want—we can find out if we’re having a boy or a girl.

“Not yet,” I say. “You?”

“That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about. Brian Hogan owes me four flying hours. I won ’em in last year’s July Fourth raffle. If you were interested, I thought he could fly us up.”

“That would be great. So nice not to have to layover in Juneau.”

“I’ll arrange it,” says Joe. “But, um, one other thing…I have to be in Wasilla the day after our appointment. So, you can either head home by yourself on Monday, or stay over in Anchorage and return with me on Tuesday.”

“What’s in Wasilla?”

“Um…well…” He scratches the back of his neck, looking down at his lap. “You know what? Nothing much. Just, um, meeting up with the PD there.”

“Oh. Okay.” I think about my schedule for a second, then say, “I don’t mind staying overnight in Anchorage and then catching a ride back with you. I could really use some maternity clothes…and some things for the baby, Christmas presents for the family…I’ll use the time to go shopping.”

“Great. Um…” He looks up, scanning my face for a second before grabbing his coffee and taking a sip. “I also, um…I wanted to say…”

“What’s on your mind, Joe? Just spit it out.”

“What’s our policy on…um…”

“You deserve to be happy, Joe,” I blurt out. “If she makes you happy, I won’t stand in your way.”

His eyebrows furrow. “What, now?”

“This is about Avery, right?”

“Who?”

“Avery Wells.”

He looks genuinely confused. “I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“I was talking to you on the boardwalk when she came out of Tanner’s party. She took your arm. You two obviously went home together. So, I’m guessing you two are getting serious. Is that what you wanted to—”

“Harp,” he says, putting down his coffee and leaning forward in his seat, “I’m not with Avery. Not at all.”

I blink at him, my eyes welling with stupid, useless tears. “I saw you go home together.”

“You misunderstood what you saw. You saw me walking home a friend who’d had too much champagne. We don’t sleep together anymore. That’s over.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. A lump jams up my throat. More tears fill my eyes, spilling down my cheeks. I’m so embarrassed, but I’m also so relieved, I don’t know which emotion to focus on first.

“You’re not with her,” I murmur.

“No, darlin’,” he says gently. Darlin’. Oh, my heart. “I haven’t been with anyone else since I was with you.”

“Oh,” I mumble, wiping my cheeks. “I shouldn’t have assumed…sorry.”

He tilts his head to the side, a tiny smile playing on his lips. “Were you jealous, Harper Stewart?”

There’s no point in lying.

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