Page 58 of Unrequited (Woodlands 4)

"That should do it," Finn said, tightening the last bolt. He wiggled the side rail, and the crib didn't move at all. It was the most solid thing in our apartment now. If we had an earthquake, it would be the only thing left standing. Ivy was impressed too but not in the way I wanted. She looked at him like a cat looked at fresh cream.

I couldn't blame her. I'm sure I wore the same expression. Finn had come in, took one look at the pieces on the floor and put it back together faster than I could microwave three burritos for lunch, which is what I did while Ivy sat on the floor admiring Finn's handiness.

There wasn't anything more sexy than a capable man. For a pregnant woman, watching a capable man put a crib together was probably as orgasmic as the sex that had gotten her pregnant in the first place. At least that's what I was reading in Ivy's eyes, and I didn't like it at all.

She'd gone from Finn's worthless to Shit, this guy can do things in a very short time.

"Where do you want the crib? Out here or in one of your bedrooms?"

"My bedroom, please," Ivy replied. I think she batted her eyelashes at him. Finn picked up the crib, the muscles in his lean chest bunching. Neither of us could look away. He's mine, I wanted to shout. But seeing the two of them standing there together gave me a weird, anxious feeling. They looked like they belonged together. A flurry of snapshots of them getting ready for prom and then homecoming and the two of them going out on a date ran through my mind.

"You put that together so fast," she cooed, leading the way down the short hall. "Have you done that before?"

"Most things are put together the same," he replied. "Where do you want it?"

I heard the door close and then only muffled sounds. They were only moving furniture around to find a place for the crib, I scolded myself. But the sight of the two of them entering her bedroom, the door closing behind them, was a painful reminder of their shared past.

I placed two of the three hot burritos on plates and set them on the table. We only had two chairs. While Ivy and Finn were arranging space in Ivy's bedroom for the baby, I stood next to the sink and ate my burrito. I could only swallow half of it before I felt like puking. Dumping the uneaten portion in the trash, I quickly washed my plate and wiped down the counters. The door finally opened, and Ivy walked out with a sparkle in her eye.

"It looks good!" she cried. "Come and see."

I avoided looking at Finn, afraid of what I would see in his eyes, but the hallway was so small and he stubbornly would not move out of the way. I had to brush up against him, and just that tiny contact made my whole body flare up. His hand came to grip my waist, and he bent down—in front of Ivy—and kissed me. It wasn't full of tongue or particularly passionate. It was more of a declarative sentence.

One that said I'm with you.

I gave him a tremulous smile that caused his eyes to narrow in concern.

"Later," I mouthed to him, and he nodded letting me go.

I walked into the room, and the crib did look cute, but Ivy wasn't smiling anymore. Her face had grown thunderous, and the grip she had on the wooden rail had tightened so hard that her white knuckles were showing.

And it all suddenly made sense. Finn was the problem but not in the way I'd feared originally. Ivy didn't want him—oh she wanted someone, and Finn, wealthy, capable, and hot, was as good as anyone. She just didn't want me with Finn.

And that terrified me.

The Donovan sisters were being torn apart. Where death and drugs couldn't do it, this man and Ivy's pregnancy might. And I didn't know which side I'd end up on or how many pieces I'd have to pick up no matter which one I chose.

2

1

WINTER

Finn reluctantly left after eliciting a promise that I would see him later. I wasn’t sure when later would take place because Ivy and I had issues.

"We have to talk."

"About what?" she asked, walking back into the bedroom. "Did you see all those cute things at the baby store?"

"I saw expensive things."

She made a face. "I'm going to need maternity clothes pretty soon. All the cheap ones are hideous, but I found a couple of sites that sell really cute stuff. What’s our bank account look like?"

I closed my eyes and prayed for patience. "Very poor."

I still had money left over from the sale of our house, but I’d been saving that for…I wasn’t sure. Probably another house? It just wasn’t money I was willing to spend. In fact, dipping into it kind of terrified me.

It was more than enough to cover maternity clothes and cute baby things, but she'd need a car seat, and after the crib, she'd need a bed. And we'd need a three-bedroom place, not just a two. Very poor was an understatement.

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