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“It was a mistake.”
“Didn’t feel like a mistake to me,” he mutters before raising his voice, “But let’s not talk about it today.”
“What are we doing today?”
He laughs. “Nice try, but I’m not telling.”
Glad to have dodged the bullet of discussing our non-relationship, I decide to move the conversation along. “How is the community center project going?”
“I’m working on getting all of the proper planning permissions before we can begin. On a related note, are we certain your sister Lilac is human and not a robot?”
I giggle. “No, we’re not. Mom claims there’s decisive proof, but I don’t believe her. Pictures can be manipulated.”
“How is it possible for one person to have memorized every single town ordinance as well as all the state and federal laws?”
Our conversation continues on this light note as we drive thirty minutes to an outlet mall. “We’re going shopping?” I ask as Cole parks the Jeep.
“We are.” He nods to the store in front of us – Baby and Me.
Hold on. He took me to a baby store?
When I don’t respond, he backpedals. “I’m sorry. Would you prefer to shop for pregnancy clothes with your sisters? I don’t have siblings. I didn’t think.”
“Shut up,” I hiss. Tears well in my eyes and spill over my lashes down my cheeks. “I can’t believe you brought me here.”
Cole’s out of the vehicle and around to my side in a flash. He flings open the door and pulls me into his arms.
“Shush, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll drive you home. Or I’ll call your sisters to meet you here. Whatever you want. But, please, stop crying. I can’t handle your tears.”
“It’s your fault for being so sweet,” I mumble into his shirt, which is now wet from my tears and snot. A pretty crier I am not.
He palms my neck before leaning down until we’re eye to eye. “You’re not upset with me?”
I slap at his shoulders. “No, you jerk.”
He chuckles as his fingers wipe away my tears. “I believe the term is sweet jerk.”
“Stop being nice.”
He steps back. “Fine. Get your ass into the store. We’re not leaving until you have an entire new wardrobe.”
“I can’t afford a new wardrobe,” I mumble as he helps me out.
“You’re not paying.”
“Whatever.” I am paying, but I’m not arguing about it while standing in a parking lot with a blotchy face from having a crying jag.
Cole places his hand on my lower back and escorts me into the store. I expect him to skedaddle as soon as I’m inside, but he leads me to the clothing section. Once there, he points to the cribs.
“I’ll be over there if you need me.”
“You’re not buying a crib,” I shout after him.
“Honey,” a woman across from me says and I startle, “if the man wants to buy you a crib, let him buy you a crib.”
“But I—”
“Hush now. Are you carrying his baby?” I nod. “Let him buy you a crib,” she says before sauntering off. And I thought nosiness was limited to the people of Winter Falls. Guess not.
