Page 126 of Real Fake Husband

“She sounds clever.”

“Oh, she is.”

I kiss him deeply, my heart swelling. I swear it’s grown two sizes in two days. “I love it. Let’s do it.”

“I meet with Jane tomorrow. Now, I believe I need to feed my pregnant wife because she barely touched her breakfast.”

“Yes, please. I know a little diner around the corner.”

Cal takes my hand and leads me to a side parking lot where his bike is waiting. I motion to the billboard across the street. “Just think,” I say as Cal climbs onto his bike, “next month, your dick is going to be on that, and in the gallery for all the world to see.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Mr. Armbruster and I picked several of the new drawings depicting you to display. Including the first one I drew of you. And some of the later ones.” I wink at him.

He laughs.

I laugh too.

While putting my helmet on, and still grinning, I climb onto the bike with him. I wrap my arms around his waist tightly, a thrill of excitement rushing through me.

“Ready to go, Mrs. Ashford?” I hear him say, muffled.

“Step on it, Mr. Ashford.”

The motorcycle roars to life, and we speed off.

EPILOGUE: JOSIE

Many months later

“Oh, dammit,” I swear as I turn around, only to knock something off the counter. It falls to the floor, meaning I can’t see what it is. Not withthispregnant belly. I told Cal that once something hits the floor, it’s dead to me.

“You all right out there?”

“Yeah, just throwing things around the room as usual.”

Cal emerges from the bedroom. He looks hot in a pair of dark-blue form-fitting jeans and a black button-up. The sleeves are pushed past his elbows, and he’s left the top buttons undone so you get just a peek at his tattoos. I’m too busy admiring his hotness at first to realize he’s picking up a fluffy duck (an early baby gift from Kaylin) that has fallen down.

Cal pulls me into a hug from behind, his hands coming around to rub my belly. “You’re going to do great. I can’t wait to see it all put together.”

Everything is happening all at once. I love every second of it.

Excitement takes hold, and I squeeze Cal’s hands. “I still can’t believe I have an art show!”

“I told you, you’re talented and amazing.”

“What did you say? I’m not sure I heard you.”

Cal chuckles and turns me toward the bedroom again. “Yes, you’re a star. Now get dressed. Dennis will be here in a few minutes.”

For the art show opening, I slip on a dark-blue maternity dress that is super adorable. I’m due in eleven days, but even though the timing couldn’t be more inapt, I didn’t want to miss the exhibition for the world. Part of me knows it was stupid to still say yes to the show after I found out about the pregnancy, and knowing the timing would fall together like that, especially given we were moving as well. But this was an important milestone for me. It could have been worse. Luckily, the date didn’t fall after the delivery—that would have been even more stressful.

Somehow, I’m happy to have my baby here with me in my belly. Yes, of course I’ve been having nightmares of giving birthright therein front of the art critic—that would make for another unforgettable article, I’m sure.

One day though, I’d be able to tell my child that she was right there with me that day.

Cal has already laid out my slip-on shoes (so sweet of him)—this way I don’t have to attempt to do it myself. Seriously, I can’t wait to be able to see my feet again.

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