Page 53 of Falling Together

Nine months doesn’t seem like a lot of time to get everything done, and I’m already down to far less time than that.

Nursery.

Clothes.

Diapers.

Wipes.

Bottles.

Car seat.

The list feels endless. I know I’m not alone, but I want to prove to Grant that I’m not completely helpless. I doubt he thinks that, but having felt helpless so many times growing up, being prepared makes me feel better.

I’m so thankful that I have him, because as much as I said I was okay doing this alone, I’m glad I don’t have to.

He doesn’t give himself enough credit. When he brought Luke out to the barn, I could hear how much Luke loved his dad. Even if it was in his own teenager way.

The thought of Grant with our kid does funny things to my insides. Of him teaching them to play baseball. Making them breakfast. Playing in the backyard.

The thought of him does funny things to me. I don’t know if it’s my hormones or what, but I can’t help daydreaming about Grant. And those thoughts usually stray into dangerous territory.

I have to keep reminding myself that we said friends only.

Because the thoughts I’m having about Grant are very unfriend-like. Friends don’t have dreams about the other giving them orgasms.

Nope.

Definitely don’t need to be thinking about that.

“Hey, G.”

I startle, pen flying across my desk.

“Hey, Joey.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Why do you ask?”

“You’ve got quite the look on your face.” She points to me. “Thinking about your baby daddy by chance?”

“What are you doing out here?” I ignore her question.

I do not want to get into a discussion about my lack of sex with Grant when all I want is to, well, have sex with him again.

“Brought out lunch for y’all.”

“And seeing Sam while you’re at it.” I smile at her.

“I hope to see a lot of him.” She waggles her brows at me.

“Joey!” I hiss.

“What?” She shrugs a shoulder. “If you worked with Grant, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t want to have a quickie with him.”

“We’re not actually having sex, Joey,” I say.