Page 58 of The Man I Love

She bit her lower lip. “I’ve always loved his ‘I am not a role model commercial, and––”

Tristan shook his head. “I still don’t think?—”

She crossed her arms at her chest. “What’s wrong with Barkley?”

“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat. “It’s a fine name” ––his fingers smothered his mouth a little–– “for a German Shepherd.”

Water slipped down the wrong pipe, and she coughed. She hadn’t thought about the name in that way before. Using a napkin to wipe her lips, she couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of her mouth. “Jerk,” she called out, but was quickly relieved when he only smiled back at her.

“It’s not as easy as you think,” she began again, setting her napkin back on the table. “Baby names are hard.”

He shrugged, but there was something in his expression which piqued her curiosity. Like he was a little boy wanting to give his opinion in a room full of adults.

All the humor left her chest, replaced by something else. “Have you thought of any names, Tristan?” For some reason, she’d never considered it. Never thought about him having the same daydreams she had about their child.

He paused for a moment, as though thrown by the question. “Names?” he asked, adjusting in his chair as though uncomfortable. In an instant, his expression became very serious. His brow furrowed and he leaned back in his seat. As though her question was the most important question he’d ever been asked before.

She was suddenly filled with regret––thinking about all the months he’d missed of her pregnancy. “Have you thought ofany names for the baby, Tristan?” she asked again, her heart squeezing at the thought of him shutting down.

He shook his head, making her stomach drop. “A few.”

She pulled in a relieved breath, while at the same time trying to get a grip on her emotions. “I’d love to hear them.”

Tristan shifted, pushed himself farther away from the table, then looked down to his feet—like a schoolboy asked to solve a math equation in front of the entire class.

“Come on,” she whispered, “just one.”

His ocean blue eyes lifted to hers, and his jaw grew taught in the way that told her the question weighed on him. “Sawyer,” he said softly, yet his voice was somewhat unsteady, as though saying the name aloud made him emotional. “For a girl.”

She broke eye contact, feeling lightheaded, and pushed away from the table. “I’ll have to think about that one,” she said––but not because she didn’t like the name. It was her reaction to him that scared her a little bit. She felt both emotional and sick at the same time. For months she’d convinced herself their relationship was over, yet one look from Tristan Montgomery could make her question everything.

“Sawyer is a strong name,” he insisted. “Girls named Sawyer don’t get pushed around.”

Her heart did a little flippy thingbecause the fact he’d thought in such detail about a name for their child made every blood vessel in her heart burst open. She covered her mouth with a napkin, not wanting him to think she was laughing, because it was quite the opposite. She almost wanted to cry.

“And for a boy?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“I thought you saidone?” His grin was shy, almost boyish.

She calmed a little, then adjusted her chair and lifted her head up.

“Not Barkley,” he said when their eyes met. “That’s for damned sure.”

Sam didn’t thinkit was possible, because yesterday she’d almost died of heat exhaustion, but today was even hotter. Every ten minutes, she shifted in her seat, trying to find comfort, but every position only made her more uncomfortable.

“I’m going to call the moving company to fix this damned air conditioner,” she said under her breath, but it was an empty threat and they both knew it.

The air conditioner wasn’t broken, but impaired, and as ferocious as her bark, her bite was minuscule. They needed to get back to L.A., and the last thing she wanted to do was be stranded in the middle of nowhere, waiting for a repairman.

She rolled down the window to appease her sweaty skin, hoping the air on this tree-lined road would be refreshing, but as soon as the window cracked, gnats zipped into the cab. “Damn it,” she muttered, rolling up the window again as she spit one from her mouth.

Tristan’s brows pinched together as he watched her with concern. “Are you really that hot?” he asked.

She scoffed at the questionbecause, try as she may, she found it incredibly irritating that he wasn’t. “Yes,” she said frankly. “And you would be too if you were thirty weeks pregnant with our child.”

Tristan wiped over his smiling mouth, then turned toward the windshield, trying to hide his amusement.

She wanted to be angry with him for laughing, but she couldn’t quite muster it. Their relationship had started to feel normal again for the first time in months. She didn’t want to say or do anything to ruin that.

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