Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
“I thought he was never going to leave!”
I swept together the samples the salesman had left behind. “We had a lot to go through. Is everything okay?”
Oliver’s hands went to his hips. “What did you do to my friend?”
I blinked a few times. “Who? Matthew?”
“Yes, Matthew.” Oliver turned his phone to show me the screen. “He’s blowing up my messages.”
“Oh no. Did the call with the venture capitalist I referred not go well?”
“Capitalist schmapitalist. The boy is smitten!”
“Smitten? You mean with me?”
Oliver rolled his eyes. “I know. It’s very unfair he isn’t gay, right? Yes, you! Who the hell else would I be talking about?” He swiped up on his phone and scrolled through dozens of messages. “But if he can’t be mine, I guess being yours is the next best thing. Look at all these texts! I’ve never seen the guy so ga-ga over a girl. He’s usually the recipient of the ga-ga. He wants to know if you’re single. I wasn’t sure how to answer.”
I frowned. I hadn’t yet told Oliver about my last conversation with Brock. He knew about the awkward airport goodbye, but not that we’d formally called it quits. I sighed. “Brock and I ended things two days ago.”
“That’s great!” Oliver lifted his cell and started to text.
I reached for his phone. “No, it’s not. I love him, Oliver. Matthew was very nice, but I don’t think I’m ready to jump into something new.”
He gave me a sympathetic smile. “Oh honey, you don’t have to marry him. Just go out and enjoy the ride. It’s the best way to move on.”
But I didn’t want to move on. I wanted Brock. I just wasn’t sure I could handle everything that now came in that package.
CHAPTER 36
* * *
February
Two nights later, I decided to call Brock. We hadn’t talked since we’d ended things, but I missed him like crazy and wanted to see how he was doing with the baby. It didn’t feel right to completely abandon him, and it was clear to me that wasn’t what I wanted. But all the complicating factors remained, and I still wasn’t sure what I could ultimately commit to… So I talked myself into believing my call was just friendly, as we’d decided was best—not that I needed to hear his voice. But I poured myself a glass of wine to settle my nerves before hitting the FaceTime button.
Brock answered wearing a soaking-wet T-shirt, which clung to his amazing, thick body.
I licked my lips. “Are you working at the cabin this late?”
He turned the phone, and Patrick’s cute little naked body filled the screen. Brock was giving him a bath in the sink. It made my heart squeeze. “Oh my God. He’s adorable.”
“He likes to splash his old man. Hang on a second, let me prop the phone up in the dishrack. I need both hands with this slippery little fish.”
I couldn’t stop smiling as I watched the two of them together. Patrick’s legs were jumping all around, and he made this cute little squeaking sound.
“Watch this,” Brock said. He leaned over and put his mouth on the baby’s stomach and blew a big belly fart. Patrick went crazy, his arms and legs flailing around as he screeched in laughter. It made my heart full to see them happy together, and it hurt like hell that I wasn’t there, wouldn’t be part of that sweet little family. I hated myself for being too afraid to take a chance with them.
“He is so precious, Brock.”
“He had a checkup yesterday. The butterball is almost eleven pounds already. The doc was nice, but she told me babies don’t usually laugh or smile in response to interactions for at least six to eight weeks.” He raised an eyebrow. “You can’t tell me my boy isn’t reacting to me.”
“He definitely is. I think doctors tend to give averages and probably lean toward the long end of things when they give people milestones, so parents don’t worry.”
Brock lifted Patrick’s foot, pressed his lips to it, and blew again. The baby shrieked in delight. There was no mistaking the smile on his face. “Is he that happy all the time?”
“For the most part. Though he tends to be happiest when he’s naked.” Brock winked. “Takes after his pop in that way, too.”
I couldn’t stop smiling. I watched as Brock finished his son’s bath, dried him off with an adorable green, hooded dinosaur towel, and dressed him in footie pajamas. This was supposed to be a friendly check-in phone call, yet I think I fell a little more in love instead. But that still came paired with a spike of fear.
He set Patrick in a bassinet in the living room, and thirty seconds later, the little guy was fast asleep. Brock sat down on the couch and let out a big sigh. He looked happy, but tired. “He knocks out after all the bath excitement.”