Page 54 of Time Out

“Come on. It’ll be fun!”

So far, my heart was racing, and I was waiting for the cops to show up and drag me out of there, regardless that I had a key, and somehow the woman working at the front desk didn’t bat an eye as we entered the building.

“We shouldn’t even be here.”

“Sure we should. He said whenever you wanted to be here you could.”

“And I’d promised him I wouldn’t randomly stop by.”

“He’s not here.” She huffed and went straight to his fridge and grabbed some bottled waters. “Here. You grab some snacks. Lance?”

“Yes, dear.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, which made him reach for her. He grabbed her waist and yanked her to his chest. Smacking a kiss on her cheek, Belle squealed in his hold. “I just wanted you to turn the TV on! Not assault me with your slobber.”

“You two are going to make me puke.”

“See?” Belle said and shooed Lance off her, only to follow him back to the couch and climb on his couch. “You’re going to make the pregnant woman puke, honey.”

Lance laughed and grabbed the remote. “Not sure it’s me doing any of that.”

I left them to their playful bickering especially since I’d have absolutely no idea how to work Davis’s television that took up an entire wall. A miniature movie screen with the massive sectional couch we’d done unspeakable things on, it really would be the perfect place to have a movie night.

Or a football game afternoon as the case may be.

“I never should have let you talk me into this,” I muttered, but for reasons only Belle knew, I went straight to the pantry, opened the door, and had to catch my lower jaw from dropping to the floor.

“Did you do this?” I asked, glaring at Belle over my shoulder.

Had she texted him? Planned this in secret?

There was no way… a shiver rolled through me and my eyes burned.

“Do what?” She climbed off Lance’s lap, and he swatted her backside as she passed him.

“Come here.”

I stood back so she could get a direct shot into the pantry.

She wasn’t a liar. If she’d done this, she’d make some sassy comment like, “well someone needs to take care of you.”

“What is it?”

When I still didn’t respond, because the only thing running through my mind was how in the world I was being punked like this.

Her jaw hung down as far as it could go when she saw the madness inside.

“That’s amazing!” Her hand hit between my shoulder blades and shoved me forward. I stumbled into the pantry and out of her way.

“Don’t push a pregnant lady!”

“Pshh. It was a love tap.” I’d lost her attention to the baskets on the shelves clearly labeled. “Snacks for Maggie.”

Baskets. Four of them. At least a half-dozen chip bags, one basket filled with crackers. Spicy things. Sour things. Sweet things. Peanut butter jars—both crunchy and creamy.

“You can’t have him,” Belle muttered, grabbing a bag of salt and vinegar chips stacked in front of a bag of dill pickle chips. “I want this man. It’s so thoughtful.”

“I heard that!” Lance shouted, laughing at us.

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