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“Don’t worry, Mal. Everything is going to remain exactly the same as far as The Bouncing Ball, and the entire complex for that matter, is concerned.”
It wouldn’t be the same without him there.
“I’ll still be around, at least once a week, if not more,” he continued.
So what, he was reading her mind now, like he used to do when they were one? Two parts of a same whole so closely entwined that they knew what the other was thinking.
When had that stopped? Traveling back in her mind, she tried to pinpoint exactly when she’d stopped knowing what Bray was thinking. Or when she’d felt as though he didn’t get her anymore.
She landed...nowhere.
She was probably just too tired.
The day had taken more out of her than she’d thought. Not physically. The procedure had been mildly uncomfortable and over more quickly than she’d expected.
But emotionally.
If all went as expected, she was going to be a mother again. Maybe not this time. Or next. But soon.
And Bray...he was going to be a business owner again. Same plans, same look, same top floor. If not on the current property he was considering, then on one like it.
It was kind of ironic. It seemed like in moving on, neither one of them was actually doing that. They were doing just as they’d done in the past—only this time they were doing it separately.
Mallory had no idea what to make of that.
Chapter Seven
One step, one minute at a time. Mallory spent the next two weeks living her life only in the moment. She might be pregnant; she might not. Didn’t do any good to dwell on it, either way. If she was, great.
And if she wasn’t, she’d try again.
Braden might be leaving soon; he might not—depending on how quickly things came together for him. He was going. She just didn’t know when. Watching for his parking spot to be empty didn’t serve any purpose, either. It would be at some point.
They met for lunch once. He told her that he’d made an offer for the property he’d shown her. He still hadn’t chosen a contractor, but he’d narrowed it down to two.
And he wasn’t buying a place to live right away. He’d be renting a suite at the hotel half a block away at first, and then looking for something nearby to rent until he had the building up and running. He’d be keeping his condo in San Diego, regardless, and planned to be in town, at the Braden Property Management office, at least one day a week.
So, for all intents and purposes, not that much would change as far as the two of them were concerned. They rarely saw each other more than once a week anyway. And sometimes less than that.
Overall, she was doing just fine. If you didn’t count those moments when she imagined the spare bedroom in her little house as a nursery or touched her stomach and thought about bonding with a new baby.
Oh, and the time she’d lain in the dark and thought about being uncomfortably huge with baby and not having Braden’s back to prop up against. It had taken her half an hour to figure out that she’d use pillows instead. A body pillow. She’d picked one up the next day and she had started using it, too.
On the thirteenth day after her procedure she still didn’t get her period. While that didn’t mean she was pregnant, her nerves tingled with energy all day long and into the evening. So much so that when she was mixing a bowl of tuna salad for a late supper and a knock sounded on her front door, she jerked so hard tuna flew off her spoon onto the counter and wall.
She wasn’t expecting anyone and didn’t usually have people just stop by. In the jeans and purple Bouncing Ball polo shirt she?
?d worn to work that day, she left the mess and went to look out from the corner of the front window. Her house wasn’t big, but it was in a nice, predominantly crime-free neighborhood. Still, she was a woman living alone.
And she might have a baby to protect.
The thought was right there.
She recognized the SUV immediately and pulled open the door.
“Bray? What’s up?”
He’d been to her home. Had taken a look at it with her before she’d purchased it. But he didn’t visit.
