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He moves into my apartment with grocery bags covering half of his face. His muscular arms are securely wrapped around the bags, and he nearly runs into me when I stand in the middle of the doorway because I can’t take my eyes offthem.
“What are you doing?” I ask when he sets the groceries on the kitchencounter.
“You didn’t want to go out for tacos, so I brought the tacos to you.” He winks. “I promised tacos, so they’re coming your way, and you can bet your ass that they’re better than anything you’d get at arestaurant.”
Shit. Fingers crossed he’s not expecting me to helphim.
We’ll be eating grilled cheese by the end of the night. Burned grilledcheese.
I watch him while he digs out the groceries and starts moving around my kitchen as if he were my roommate. He sifts through the cabinets before pulling out pans andbowls.
“You know how to cook?” I stupidlyask.
He cuts open the hamburger, drops it in the pan, and turns a burner on low. “I’m a singledad.”
“Good point,” Imutter.
This soon-to-be mom had better take some notes. Takeout has always been my main food group, but that doesn’t mean I eat like shit. I get healthy takeout—at least, I did before, but there’s not a big market for thathere.
“I cook dinner every night. Come over and eat anytime youwant.”
That’s a big hell no.Any appetite I build up will be lost when I step into his house, and the memories of his freak-out floodme.
I take in my T-shirt and pull at the bottom. “I wish you had told me you were comingover.”
He snags a cutting board and starts cutting the bell peppers. I slide into his spot, pushing him away and causing him to grin, and take his place. I start slicing the peppers, the simplest task for me to take over, without saying aword.
“You would’ve bailed,” hereplies.
“No, I wouldn’t have.” That’s the truth. I bailed on going out to dinner but would’ve been up for his company. “I would’ve made myself not look like a trainwreck.”
“You look gorgeous.” He nods toward my belly. “You’ve been hiding it well. Anyone know about the twinsyet?”
I shake my head. “You spill the beans toanyone?”
“I’m waiting for you to give me the green light. You do know, we have to tell everyone sooner or later,right?”
“I do, but why does it feel like it’s shock after shock? Guess what?” The knife waves through the air when I dramatically throw my arms up. “I’m pregnant. Guess what? It’s withtwins!”
“Put the knife down, Mike Myers.” He laughs while peeling an avocado and then mashing it in a bowl. “You realize, life is full of surprises as you get older. You grow wisdom withage.”
I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “Appreciate the insight,oldman.”
“Whoa, who are you calling old?” He smirks and bumps his hip against mine. “You want to be on dish dutytonight?”
I slide the peppers off the board and into a glass bowl. The lettuce is my next victim. “I’m callingyouan oldman.”
“Sweetheart, we’re six yearsapart.”
“Six years is a long time. You were in kindergarten, learning how to write your ABCs, when I wasborn.”
“You seemed to find thisold manattractive enough to sleepwith.”
“Eh, let’s blame it on thealcohol.”
“I’ll keep waiting for you to admitit.”
I drop the knife. “Admitwhat?”
