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“Michael?”
“Yeah?”
“You can stay here if you like.”
His body sprang to attention. “I like.”
“Good.”
Something made him push his luck. “My meetings with the Miller family are set to resume on Monday.”
“You want to stay here for the rest of your time in town?” He noticed she was just asking, not necessarily inviting.
And yet, he wasn’t sure he even wanted the invitation. “Maybe.”
“Why don’t we talk about it on Friday?”
“Fine.” He didn’t want to talk about it at all. Thing was, he didn’t know what he did want.
Looking around his hotel room, Michael couldn’t find anything he hadn’t seen a million times before in the weeks he’d been there. Even opulence dimmed with overexposure.
“How are you feeling?” He had to ask.
“Good.” She paused. “Fat.”
“Already?” He couldn’t picture it.
“Yep.”
“Still feeling movement? Kicking?” He hated his curiosity. Hated the constant tension pressing against his temples.
“All the time.”
“Well, you need your sleep.” Pinching the bridge of his nose didn’t help his headache. But he kept trying, anyway.
“I know, Michael. Good night.”
She hung up without even waiting for his reply.
TOSSING OUTFIT after outfit on her bed, Susan was frantic by ten o’clock Friday morning. Michael was due anytime, she had clothes all over the room she’d be sharing with him—and she was naked. Which wouldn’t have been the problem a few months ago that it was now.
He wasn’t going to like her body.
The overalls made her look like a horse. The denim jumper like a cow. And the cotton slacks and knit top like a bright pink pig. Great. He’d think he was in a barn. Dating a farm. He’d probably cancel their reservations at the track and take her to the zoo.
Frustrated tears seeped through eyelids she was squeezing tight in an effort not to cry. She didn’t have time to ruin her makeup.
Then again, why not? She’d ruined the rest of her life.
As if in protest, a little body part jabbed Susan in the left side. Another joined in on the right side.
“Great,” she mumbled with a weak smile as she opened her eyes to look down at the growing mound of her stomach. “You’re in line with my thoughts now. Well, just watch it, you two, some of them are not meant for little minds.” She’d just have to trust them to tune out when necessary.
Like when she told Michael about them. Or rather, about there being two of them.
Her conversation with Seth two weeks before had backfired. She’d meant the words for him, but the memories had spoken to her, as well. Her mother had told her to be strong. To have courage. She was ashamed of how little courage she’d had where Michael was concerned these past months. But no more.
With that thought, she decided on the cow look and donned the denim jumper. Pulling a brush through the layers of her hair, she was pleased that the natural streaks hadn’t lost any of their luster. Maybe if she could keep his attention on her face and her hair, he wouldn’t notice that she’d gained fifteen pounds in four months.
