Page 74 of Who's Your Daddy?

“Hey,” I say when she gets in.

“Hi.” She twists my cap from front to back to kiss me. “You look cute today.”

“Thanks.” I wave goodbye to Tori and pull away from the curb. “I got you more of those pickled artichokes,” I say.

We’re officially in the second trimester, and boy, does she have her appetite back. She’s hungry all the time, but my God, the stuff she eats nauseatesmeon most days. She craves the weirdest things. If it’s bitter or salty, she goes through it like water.

Her eyes light up. “Oh, good. Can I have some?”

“Right now?” I glance over at her. “In my car?”

“Is that a problem?”

Well...yeah. I don’t want my Bugatti smelling like pickled artichokes. That’s gross! But she looks so eager to get her hands on them that I can’t say no.

“Nope. It’s on the floor on your side. Knock yourself out.”

I ignore the stench that fills the car as she opens up the jar. When she dips two fingers into that pickle water and pops one into her mouth, I suppress a gag and just focus on the road. But my attention is drawn back to her when I hear sniffles a few minutes later.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Fine.”

The change in her voice is a clear indication that she’s on the verge of tears. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!”

“Just tell me.”

She plucks out another artichoke, then drops it back into the water with disappointment. “They don’t taste the same.”

“What? The artichokes?”

“Yes!”

“They’re the same ones I bought last week.”

“I know. And I don’t want to be mad at you because you look so cute today...but they don’ttastethe same, Peter.”

Wait. Is she somehow blaming me for this? I glance over to check and she’s actually crying. Genuine tears are rolling down her cheeks. “Why...” I pause, hesitant about how to broach this. “Why are you so upset about this?”

“Because!”

That’s the only explanation she offers before closing the jar and dropping it back into the bag. She uses both hands to wipe the tears off her cheeks. I am so confused right now. I just saw her laughing with Tori five minutes ago.

God, she’s as volatile as the weather sometimes. On the upside, her sex drive is through the roof. I can barely keep up. This woman is draining me dry. I don’t think I’ve had this much sex. In. My. Life. It’s incredible. But then, on the downside, there’s...this. I can’t even describe whatthisis, but it’s the unsubstantiated meltdown over seemingly nothing.

“Because what? Li, I don’t understand.”

“Because I wanted it...and now they’re making it different.”

Yeah, that still doesn’t make any sense. I feel like I stepped into the Twilight Zone because there are a million things wrong in the world right now, but she’s crying over pickled artichokes.

“I don’t think they did it on purpose.”

“Why did they change it? It wasn’t necessary. They were perfect the way they were.”

“You had it with ice cream the last time. I don’t think that’s a manufacturer problem. Do you want me to get you some ice cream?”

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