Page 34 of Capitally Unexpected

“Oh, those were all for me,” I say with a laugh before drinking more water. “Thanks for getting me this, by the way.”

“Of course,” he says. “I’m sorry you didn’t have a better time.” A flash of disappointment crosses his face.

I sit up. “What? I had a great time.”

“You did?” He looks uncertain. “But you thought the game was boring, and now you don’t feel well, and?—”

“Hunt,” I say, leaning toward him. “I’m seventeen weeks pregnant. I can feel crappy after ten hours of sleep and spending the day sitting on the couch. And the game being so low scoring allowed me to do more people watching. If it didn’t, I would have never spotted that couple.”

He smiles at the memory. “I can’t believe you called he was going to propose. The way they were fighting the whole game, I thought they were more likely headed for a break up.”

I shrug. “Maybe fighting is foreplay for them. She seemed pretty enthusiastic about her yes.” I laugh at the memory of herjumping into his arms and spilling the beer of the guy sitting behind her.

“But, back to the point,” I say. “I had a great time. You planned something special for me, made sure it was somewhere I would be comfortable, and supported my questionable food choices, even trying to save me from myself. Great third date.” I meet his eyes at the end and hold them for a moment.

He breaks the eye contact first. “Well, you have an early morning, and I’ve got a meeting with Duncan and Hayden at nine. Can I walk you to your door?”

I look behind me at the front door locked and dead bolted behind us before looking back at him. “That door?”

He shakes his head before offering me his hand and helping me off the couch. “No, that one.” He jerks his thumb at my bedroom door.

“Oh, well then, of course. What a gentleman,” I tease as we walk down the hallway hand in hand. Any trace of humor dies in my throat when I meet his gaze at the entrance to my room. His eyes are dark and serious.

“Thank you for tonight. I know we hang out here a lot, but I loved being out, laughing with you, throwing dirty looks at other guys who checked out your ass.”

The humor returns as a laugh bubbles up. “They did not.”

He nods solemnly. “They did. You don’t have eyes in the back of your head, so you can’t see. My caveman brain says next time I’ll get a jersey that covers your ass, so I’m the only one who gets to see it, here in our home. But my more rational brain says I could never dull the way you shine.”

I’m left speechless as he reaches up to spin my hat so the bill is at the back of my head, matching his. He leans down slowly and my eyes close right before his lips brush mine, once, twice, and then they’re gone. I lean forward trying to chase the contact, my eyes blinking open as I rock back flat onto my feet.

“Goodnight,” he says, his hand tracing down my arm, squeezing mine once before trailing his fingers across my palmand walking to his room, the door closing behind him. I stare at the closed door for a moment before going about my nighttime routine, unable to forget the way it felt when his lips brushed mine. Of course, I’ve felt his lips there, and many other places before, but this was different. This time, he knows my name, my favorite foods, how I sound when I sing in the shower.

Later, when I’m in bed for the night, I hear his door open again and realize he waited to head into the bathroom, so it would mirror the end of a date between two people who don’t sleep with only a wall separating them.

I brush my hands over my lips with the same feather light touch Hunter used earlier.

This time, he kissed me like it meant more.

Chapter

Fifteen

Michelle

Twenty weeks pregnant

As the fourth episode ofThe Property Brothersbegins in the waiting room and my stomach grumbles its loudest growl yet, I wonder how exactly a gestational diabetes test isn’t considered a form of torture condemned as a crime against humanity. But that’s probably the fact I haven’t eaten anything since last night.

Luckily, I’m almost at the end of the process, waiting for the results of the third hour blood draw, and then I can get something to eat. Hunter mentioned District Taco or Falafel, Inc. or both if I can’t decide once I’m given the okay to eat again.

Given my pre-pregnancy weight, the current size of the baby and my “advanced age,” the doctors recommended I do my glucose tests at twenty weeks. My results were barely in the range for failing the one-hour test, so I’m back for more. If things are negative this time around, they might have me do the one-hour test again at twenty-eight weeks and determine next steps from there. I shudder at the idea of having to drink theglucose solution again in two months, but whatever Cumulus needs to stay healthy.

An upbeat jingle sounds from the TV in the corner, two carrots singing and talking about an erectile dysfunction medication. Ironic, considering the events bringing so many of us into this waiting room.

Not that I know much about Hunter’s current erectile function levels. But based on my multiple experiences over the course of those initial ten hours . . . I’m starting to think it might be worth getting an updated baseline.

We’ve gone on a few more dates since the baseball game. Nothing quite as elaborate, especially since the city is in the middle of a record high heat wave. Still, the intentional time Hunter’s been planning for us to spend together, whether working through the list of restaurants he’s cultivated since his move or in an icy movie theater watching a rom-com he enjoys as much as I do, has been nice.

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