Page 79 of Stepping Into Tomorrow

“You okay?” Bella asked softly.

“A girl.”

“Yeah.”

He swallowed. Girls seemed so much more fragile than boys. Maybe that was sexist, but the shit women had to deal with, especially women of color, was unreal.

“How do you feel?” he asked her.

She smiled, her eyes growing watery. The sight of her tears tore at his chest. “I’ve always wanted a little girl.”

“Why didn’t you . . . I mean, it’s none of my business, but if you wanted more kids, why is Eli an only child?”

Her smile dimmed and her attention dropped to her hands. “It just wasn’t in the cards for us.”

He hated that he’d been the one to bring her down in this joyous moment. “I hope she looks like you.”

Surprise flared in Bella’s gaze. Did this woman really not know how beautiful she was? He probably hadn’t helped the situation with how he’d treated her. He would make it up to her—starting now.

He lifted their joined hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her silky skin. “Thank you for giving me this gift.”

Tears dripped down her cheeks. She swiped them away with her free hand before she leaned in. “You’re gonna be a great dad.”

His chest lurched. “Let’s go out and celebrate. Can I take you to dinner?”

She blinked, hope shining in her eyes. “Yeah. Eli is with my parents tonight after practice.”

“Okay. I’ll make a reservation for six.”

36

ISABELLA

Isabella ran a hand over the silky fabric of her dress as Nash slipped his truck in park. The ride to Atlantis restaurant had been quiet, with nothing but the radio playing on low. He climbed out of the truck as she took a moment to compose herself. She gave her outfit one more once-over. The red fabric draped over her body, showing off her cleavage, but it wasn’t too low. It cinched under her breasts in an empire cut and flowed loosely around her body. The length came to just above her knees, thanks to her belly. Am I too dressed up?

Her door opened and Nash held out his hand. Is this a date?

She slipped her palm into his and climbed down, adjusting her purse over her shoulder. “Thanks.”

He nodded before the warmth of his hand met her lower back, ushering her towards the restaurant. She shivered, and it had nothing to do with the chilly evening air.

“Do you need a jacket?”

She shook her head as he reached for the entrance door. “I’ll be fine. I tend to run hotter when I’m pregnant.”

She walked in, scanning the room. This place used to be a fish market. But Atlantis looked nothing like she remembered. The pine floors shone. Pendant lighting hung over reclaimed wood tables scattered around the room, with almost every one filled with guests. Blown up black-and-white photographs hung on soft grey walls. Renita and James were in one image, holding up a bushel of apples and some vegetables with a few barnyard animals by their feet. The other photos also seemed familiar, with local farms or business names printed on the bottom of each one. Though one in particular stuck out. She could tell it was Nash from the hard set of his shoulders as he hauled in a huge fish. His corded arm was bulging with veins as his other hand reached for the hook. His dark curls seemed so wild and soft at the same time. Somehow the photographer had captured so much life in this one shot without even showing his face. She could feel the sun on her skin, taste the salt on her lips, and hear the seagulls flying overhead like she was in that moment with him.

“Bella?” Nash brought her attention back to him.

A hostess held a couple menus in her arms as she looked at Bella with a smile. “Are you ready to be seated?”

“Yeah. Sorry, just taking in the atmosphere. It’s so much different than I remembered.”

“Yes, Atlas and Jasmine have made this place into a destination for Shattered Cove. They have old pictures of the building’s ‘before’ by the bathrooms, showing when it used to be a fish market. It’s incredible,” the hostess agreed. She led them to a table in the corner that was a little more private than the others.

“You’ll have to check out the view of the bay from the deck before you go.” The hostess pulled a small tablet device from her apron. “Is there anything I can get you started with to drink?”

“I’ll have a non-alcoholic mulled cider, please,” Isabella said, taking a seat. She hung her purse on the back of the chair facing the wall.

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