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“Frannie’s married, but what about you?” He looked at my left hand. I could feel his eyes focus in on my ring finger.
“In Newton Hills?” I laughed. “Marry someone here?”
He laughed too. “Ok. That’s fair. But you’re here. You can’t be the only single person in the dating pool. There has to be at least one eligible bachelor in this town.”
I eyed him. “No. There’s not.”
“So no kids? No husband? No boyfriend? An ex maybe?”
I shook my head three times. “None.”
“Me either. But you didn’t ask. I’m a little hurt, Evie.”
I giggled. “I think it would make the news here if you were married. And no ring.” I pointed to his hand.
“I could be one of those guys who doesn’t wear a ring.”
I tested him. “Are you?”
He shook his head. “Hell no. I’m not the marrying type.”
The wine was circling my head and swarming my limbs. I felt warm and loose. Almost light enough to dance out of the booth. Holy shit, I was drunk.
“I’ve decided I’m not either,” I announced.
“Is that so? Don’t think I’ve ever met a girl who actually believed that. That philosophy works really well when you first start dating, though.”
“You would say something like that.” I rolled my eyes. He thought he knew women so well. As if sleeping with a hundred of them gave him insight into how women thought and felt. Sex had nothing to do with intellect or a woman’s goals. He had clearly confused everything into one pot.
He licked his perfect bow-shaped lips. “You don’t want to get married? You’re not interested in what Frannie has with Dr. McKids? You expect me to believe that?”
I didn’t want to talk about my sister’s white picket fence existence. “Actually, to tell you the truth, I’ve been working on a project since I’ve been back. And I don’t have to be married to do it.”
“What kind of project?”
I grin
ned, holding the wine glass in my hand. I leaned against the table. I have no idea why I said it. I don’t know what possessed me to tell Jeremy Hartwell my most precious secret, but I did. I whispered it across the table as if he were my best friend. As if he were the kind of confidant I could share deep secrets with.
“I want to get pregnant.”
5
Jeremy
There were a lot of things Evie Rossi could have confessed right then in Bella’s. She could have told me she had a regrettable tattoo on her lower back from a drunken spring break. She could have admitted she was planning to audition for a game show. Hell, she could have told me she had a three-way last night. None of it would have shocked me like the words that just came out of her mouth.
“Did you say pregnant?”
“Mmhmm.” Her lips pouted. When did they get so pillowy and lush? Fuck. “On my own.” She wagged a finger. “Without a husband. I don’t need anyone to have a baby. I can do it without a ring on this finger. I don’t need what Frannie has. I can have a family on my own.”
“That’s the big project? Not a movie you’re trying to produce? Or going back to school to be a theater teacher? You want to have a baby?”
She nodded. “I’m tired of waiting. And I’m going to turn thirty, Jer. Thirty.”
“We’ve established how old we are. Same age here.”
“So, you know my clock is ticking. And there’s no one here. And I’m tired of hearing my mom tell my sister how disappointed she is I’m not married. Oh, Evelyn,” she mimicked, “Why don’t you just date Stan from the Farmers Market?”
