Page 127 of Shortcake
She was impeccably dressed in what looked like a designer suit. A crisp Oxford shirt. Navy slacks. Tan blazer with elbow patches—elbow patches for Christ’s sake! Who was she, Indiana Jones?
And the most noticeable trait…
She was pregnant.
Very, very pregnant.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Conrad
“What the hell are you doing here so early?”
I tried to keep the snarl out of my voice, but after the two days I’d had? It felt nearly impossible. I likedcontrol. I liked order and plans and keeping to a schedule.
My eyes skated down, landing on her swollen belly.
Pregnant. She was fucking pregnant.
Irrational anger heated my blood and I had to force myself to breathe. To calm down.
Meghan was allowed to have a life. She was allowed to start a family… even if she did ignore the family waiting for her across the pond.
“Ugh, down! Off! Off, you stupid dog!” Meghan tried to shoo Gus away from her. Finally, Addy bent and scooped Gus up into her arms, rushing to shut him into the study.
“It’s Tuesday,” Meghan said, sweeping inside of the house, rolling a giant suitcase behind her.
A Louis Vuitton suitcase.
“Yeah, it’s Tuesday and you said your flight was landing at eight.”
“No, silly boy, I said I’dbe hereat eight.”
That’snotwhat she said. I had the fucking text saved to prove it. Not that it would matter. We were all at the whim of Meghan. All the time.
She rolled in and rolled out as she pleased.
And none of that mattered… not when she was standing here in front of mepregnant.
And a giant diamond flashed against the light streaming in through the open door.
“So,” I said. “It looks like you’ve got some news you forgot to share.”
“Surprise!” she exclaimed, palms out.
Surprise, indeed.
“And,” she added, tapping Addy’s shoulder. “It sounds like you two had your own little surprise, didn’t you? Addy, right?”
“What? I mean, h-hi. It’s nice to meet you.”
Meghan took Addy’s hand, giving it a few forceful pumps. “When Harper texted me that she caught you two in Conrad’s precinct? Well, I have to say, it’s nice to finally see that this guy isn’t perfect.”
“Harper texted you,” I repeated.
The news was like a gut punch.
“Well, of course,” Meghan gave a small laugh. Like this was a given. Like Harper always texted her the deepest, darkest secrets.
