Page 135 of The Way We Score

I take another step closer, and he shrinks away. “That’s a promise.”

Zane pats my back, chuckling. “Okay, Papa Bear. We’re done here.”

My chest is heaving, and fury cycles hot in my blood. “I still want to take out the trash.”

“I know.” Zane gives my arm a gentle pull. “If this guy’s ever stupid enough to come around again, I’ll help you. Now let’s get these papers filed.”

31

Olivia

“That one looks like a leg of lamb,” Garrett says lazily.

We’re sitting in the hammock on the back porch at Cooters & Shooters on a crisp spring day. My head is against his chest, and we’re rocking gently back and forth.

I’m wrapped in a fuzzy blanket as we watch the clouds slide by in a clear blue sky, finding shapes in the towering bales of white. “I think it looks like Henny Lane.”

So much has happened since my divorce papers were filed with the judge here in town. The clerk said it could take up to ten weeks to get the final decree, so I put it out of my head. I don’t care how long it takes. I only know it’s done, and this guy made it happen.

He told me I wouldn’t believe him if he told me how it went down, and I said I didn’t care. All that matters is we’re together, and our baby is healthy

We had a lovely holiday season with the family. It’s been so long since I was on the coast full-time. I forgot about theparades and the lighting of all the trees downtown andThe Polar Expressin the park with blankets and popcorn.

We rang in the new year with a kiss as fireworks went off over the bay. It’s been our time to get established in our hometown, get reacquainted with the community, and get ready for the baby.

The only problem now is I’m overdue.

Nobody ever talks about being overdue, and I can only think it’s so rare. After my first week, I started researching. I researched how often it happens—only 5 percent of pregnancies.Five.

Then I started combing everything I could find to make her come out. I’ve tried foot massages… There’s supposed to be a spot on the foot that induces labor.False. I’ve tried acupuncture… Nope.

Nipple stimulation is another trick, and while having Garrett spend time gently rubbing, teasing, and sucking on my breasts ultimately led to many toe-curling orgasms—another supposed labor-inducer—baby girl still hasn’t budged.

I’ve reached the point where I don’t care about the pain. I don’t care about pooping or tearing. I don’t care about anything except getting herout of me.

Even Kimmie Joy did her best to help. She rested her little head on my stomach, petting me softly and cooing, “Come out, Baby Gina, I want you to play with me!”

“Liv’s just so warm and cozy,” Garrett teased, goosing his little niece to make her squeal. “She’s too comfy in there.”

“Really?” Kimmie’s eyes were wide as she studied me.

“Time to make it a little uncomfortable,” I grumbled.

Now we’re at the restaurant waiting on Dylan to whip up a spicy eggplant parmesan dish, and I’m pretty sure Garrett’s hungry.

“That one looks like Lindsey Cluckingham.” I point to a large, fluffy cloud with what looks like an arched tail.

“I think it looks like a rack of ribs.”

“You think every cloud is food.”

“You think they’re all chickens!”

That makes me snort a laugh, and I roll into his chest. His arms go around me, and it’s warm and safe and home.

“I’m hungry,” he groans.

“I can tell.” I push into my spot again, taking the pressure off my belly.

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