Page 57 of The Man I Love

“Good morning,” he smiled.

Warmth swept over her skin as she thought about their encounter in the hall. Vowing to do better today, she placed a napkin over her lap, loaded her fork, and took a large bite of pancakes.

She found him staring at her plate.

“Did you eat?” she asked with her mouth still full.

He nodded. “Yes.” But his eyes were transfixed.

That’s when she realized it wasn’t her plate he was looking at. It was the sliver of her belly peeking out from her shirt. Butit wasn’t just curiosity she recognized in his expression––it was desire. Heat crept up her body, and she adjusted in her seat, pulling her shirt lower. Even now, at eight months pregnant, one look from Tristan Montgomery could make her melt inside.

It had been so long since a man paid attention to her that she’d almost forgotten what it was like. She took a large drink of orange juice and shifted her gaze to her food.

“You should have woken me,” she said, knowing how hot it would be outside.

“Wasn’t necessary.”

She scooted forward, causing a high-pitched screech to fill the dining room. “We could have been on the road by now. It will only get hotter as the day progresses.”

“You were tired. You needed the rest.”

She took another bite of food, ignoring the fact that yet again, he was trying to make decisions for her.

She reached into her bag, flipped open her itinerary, and laid it on the table. “We need to get gas before we leave. The bathrooms on the road are questionable, so make sure to use the restroom before we leave the hotel.”

Tristan sat back in his chair seeming amused. “You weren’t kidding, were you?” he asked.

“Kidding about what?”

“Your itinerary.” He snatched it off the table. “Can I look?”

On autopilot she reached out to grab it––but paused––she really had no reason to keep it from him. Sure, his lack of manners infuriated her, but she’d meant to send him a copy weeks ago and had simply forgotten.

“Go ahead,” she finally conceded.

She continued to eat her breakfast, trying to ignore him as he flipped through the pages, but as his grin widened it became almost impossible. She could almost guess what he was smilingat. Her lists had always been a joke between them. Each one color-coded with bright metallic ink.

“What’s this?” he asked as he flipped to the very last page. The pink and blue columns were instantly identifiable.

“Nothing,” she said. Okay, so there wasonepage she wasn’t ready for him to see. She reached out to take the binder, but he lifted it higher, extending it out of her reach.

“Whatisthis?” he asked softly, searching her face with an expression she couldn’t place.

She swallowed hard and lifted her chin. “What do you think it is?”

For a second, he only stared at her, his face growing paler than she’d ever seen it. “Baby names,” he said, as his eyes landed on the page again.

She sat straighter, sensing there was so much more happening at this moment than she realized. All the air left her lungs as she waited for his reaction to her innermost personal thoughts.

It was odd to think of them as thoughts, but that’s what they were—or maybe they were daydreams. She’d been adding to the list for months. Every time she found herself worried about the future. Every time her thoughts lingered to things beyond her control she found comfort in dreaming about their baby.

His brows furrowed with intense concentration as he read over the page. Nodding at times, then frowning at others. Eventually they’d have to agree on justonename, but until a moment ago this list had been hers alone. The realization that she now shared it with him made her chest ache. She wouldn't be making decisions alone. Tristan was there now.

After a while, Tristan looked up, and confusion marred his handsome features “Barkley?” he asked.

Caught off guard, she wiped over her mouth with a napkin and sat up a little straighter. “Yeah... like the basketball player.”

A grin began to form at the corner of his mouth then spread until it consumed his entire face. “Charles Barkley?” he asked. “But you don’t even like basketball.”

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