Page 31 of Capitally Unexpected

A puzzled look crosses her face. “So, you need to know my middle name or something?”

My hands have to be darkening the couch cushions by now. They’re sweating so much. “No, well, yes, I’d love to know your middle name. I’d love to know everything about you, honestly. But in this case, I mean—what are we? How do I refer to you?”

“Oh.” She pauses and looks thoughtful. “I guess ‘baby mama’ may not go over well with all crowds.”

Emotion rises up in me to hear her say it again. “You are more to me than?—”

“I know, I know,” she cuts me off, her tone soothing. “I’m more to you than a human incubator. I’m sorry. I make bad jokes when I get nervous.”

I think back over the past few weeks. “Just when you get nervous? Because I’d say you’re pretty corny most of the time.”

There’s a pause before she speaks, her words soft. “Or do you make me nervous most of the time?”

I suck in a breath. Fuck. Did I force my way into her life? Is she not comfortable in her own home anymore?

“Your thoughts are all over your face, Hunt. I love having you here. But since you asked what we are . . . that’s part of what makes me nervous. Beyond being future co-parents, I feel ...” She straightens her shoulder and breathes deep. “I feel a pull toward you. I felt it that first night, in the days that passed even before I knew about little Cumulus here. It’s not going away. And that terrifies me, because I know I should be putting the baby first, and maintaining a civil relationship between us is more important than any urges or instincts I have.”

I waggle my eyebrows, breaking the tension. “So, you’re having urges?” She smacks my arm gently.

“C’mon, you started this. What about you? Do you feel ...” she trails off, looking lost. I curse my inability to be an adult—again.

“Yes. Yes, I feel a pull too. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about”—I gesture around—“us, our situation, everything. If there’s a chance for us to be more than co-parents and friends, I’d like to talk about exploring that.”

She laughs, leaning back on the couch, her hand once more drifting to her stomach. I see her falling into the position absentmindedly more and more. It warms my heart each time.

“We’re doing this all backward,” she says. “Have a baby together, move in together, now try to define the relationship? I think we missed a few steps.”

“Yeah, I feel like an engagement should have been in there somewhere.”

“Let’s leave the fake engagements to your brother, okay?”

“You know, there’s something to that. We may not know how to define ourselves, but at least we don’t have to tell my parents we faked an engagement.”

We laugh. “No, we can definitely leave that honor to Preston and Jax,” she says.

A comfortable silence descends, a feeling of home taking over as the refrigerator kicks on with its now-familiar hum and the smell of fresh bread the neighbors brought home from the farmers’ market wafts in from the hallway.

“You know, you forgot something in your synopsis of our history,” I say.

“What’s that?” She rolls her head along the back of the couch to look at me.

“There were some corny pick up lines, some laughter, and some really great sex.”

Her eyes grow serious. “I haven’t forgotten. I think about it all the time. But that’s what scares me. I think given where this is headed in twenty-five weeks, I need more than only laughs and good sex. We know those work. I need to know how things can be between us outside of those parts.”

I lean forward slowly, letting her know I’m coming into her space. I rest my forehead against hers, wanting her to see me. Hear me. “I’m beginning to realize anything you want that’s in my power to give, it’s yours. Maybe outside, too.”

We sit still, breathing the same air, tension building again, but this time tension of anticipation. Of want. Of fear. Of risk.

A buzzing noise slices through the air, the intercom. Michelle jumps away from me, and in the next second is on her feet. “Is that them?”

I look at my watch, seeing the rest of the morning has flown by. “Yup, right on time. Margaret’s specialty.”

“Shit! I never lit that candle. Can you buzz them in?” Shetakes off for the kitchen, in search of matches. I watch her with a small smile on my face. I knew she felt it too, thissomethingbetween us. We just need to be brave enough to explore it.

I push up and hit the button by the door. “Hello?”

“Hunter! It’s us.” I hear my dad’s voice and my smile grows bigger, excited to have so many important people all in one place for the weekend. “Come on up,” I say, pushing the button to unlock the front door.

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