Page 23 of Reclaimed

I stifle a yawn with the back of my hand and drop the photo back into my purse on my kitchen table. Okay, so recently, vivid dreams have made sleep sparse. Pregnancy nightmares are real, and add in the threat of a stalker and my imagination has run wild.

At least I know this little one is healthy and growing just as he or she should. I tuck that knowledge close and remind myself that we’re both safe for what feels like the thousandth time.

A knock on my front door sends a spike of adrenaline through me. I huff a laugh at my ridiculous nervous system, shutting down my thoughts before they take a rogue turn.

“Aiden.” I step back in surprise.

“Hey, Isla.” His voice is casual, but his expression is a careful mask. From the black, backward cap on his head, to the soft-looking cotton tee, and even his jeans, he’s the picture of comfort and relaxation. Only the tense lines of his shoulders give him away.

And the suspicious bags by his feet.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have a plan.”

“A plan for what?”

“I think we should date,” he blurts suddenly.

“I’m sorry?” My brows pinch as I try to decipher what the hell he’s trying to say while standing on my doorstep.

“I want to date you.”

“I’m not interested in dating.”

“Are you already seeing someone?”

“No, and I’d like to keep it that way.” I shut the door on this strange conversation.

“Wait!” His palm slaps against my door before it can latch.

“Honey, if she don’t let you in, my door is wide open.” My neighbor, Julie calls, her weathered voice sounding all kinds of wrong over the seductive invitation. “I’m single!”

Aiden’s face is a mask of horror. He widens his eyes as if to beg, “please let me in!”

I giggle and push the door open enough for him to enter. Once he’s safely inside, I poke my head outside.

“He’s not available, Julie.”

She winks. “You get him, girlfriend.”

I offer her a small wave, ignoring the way my belly tingles, and retreat into my house.

“You have five minutes. That’s just enough time for her to go back inside so you can sneak back out to your car. But you better be quick. The mail comes soon and she’ll be stationed out there until Will finishes his route on our street.”

“You know the name of your mailperson?”

“You don’t?” I cross my arms.

“Um, no?” He scrubs the back of his neck. “Should I?”

I lean a shoulder against the door at my back. “They are a person providing a service to you. It doesn’t take much to ask for their name.”

“Jesus,” he shakes his head.

“I know the name of my garbage men, too.”

“Shit,” he mutters.

---