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There was a pause and she waited.
"Think or know?"
"I haven’t had my period and I’m as regular as clockwork, no matter what. Besides that, I’ve been reading up on the symptoms and I’ve checked all the boxes. I didn’t want to tell you over the phone but you’re being such a dick, I had to. Will you come or not?"
"Since you so graciously extended the invitation, I’ll be there with bells on." His voice had turned warm and sent shivers through her body. "I’ll bring dessert and the wine."
"It has to be non-alcoholic and I’d appreciate you not telling your Dad until I confirm it by going to the doctor."
"When?"
"As soon as I can get an appointment."
"What time would you like me there?"
"Sevenish. I have to tidy up and decide whether or not to cook."
"I could bring the food too."
"No. I’ll deal with the food. So, see you later."
"I’m looking forward to it."
She hung up and continued to look around the room before stirring herself to go and tidy up.
*****
Brady settled back against the chair and couldn’t stop the wide smile splitting his face. He’d been so unsettled over the last couple of weeks. Yes, he’d been pissed. She’d avoided him for those weeks and after the night and morning they’d spent together, he was angry that she could just shrug him off just like that.
He’d called three times before giving up and found himself wondering if it was worth it. Yes, he was in love with her, madly in love with her, even more so now that they'd spent all that time together and it wasn’t just the sex.
She was maddening and frustrating, but he’d never met anyone like her. She fascinated him, the train of thoughts, the lack of coyness, the fact she didn’t give a rat's ass about what people thought of her or that she didn’t cater to him. He had that with women in the past and had quickly become bored.
She was also warm and giving, unlike his mother. He needed this. Now, she wasn’t going to be able to shake him. He wouldn’t allow it.
He’d ease into the relationship, using the pregnancy as a stepping stone to get closer to her. Now she couldn’t keep him away. He was going to be around whether she liked it or not. She wasn’t going to call the shots this time.
Leaning forward, he picked up the phone and made the call to the bakery. She loved strawberry shortcake and he knew exactly where he should order from.
*****
"How are you?" His emerald eyes searched her face as soon as she opened the door to let him in.
"I’m fine. Take those into the kitchen. I decided to make a seafood salad."
"Good." He hefted the bottle of white wine. “Like minds and all that.” He wanted to kiss her but she turned away and headed towards the kitchen. He’d get around to it before the evening was finished and had every intention of celebrating in bed.
"It smells good."
"Thanks. The wine glasses are in the middle cupboard and I think we should eat at the counter."
"Nice." He admired the simple yellow kitchen with the large clock on one side of the wall. "And well used. I’d never have thought of you as the domestic type." She gave him a wry look as he came back with the glasses.
"Because I love to cook?" She shoveled out the meal into two plates and handed him one. "That sounds very stereotypical. Cooking relaxes me and I love doing it. I hate housework, and have someone come in twice a week to take care of the laundry and that sort of thing. I also hate having people around my space.
When I’m writing, I’m so caught up that I lock myself in and don’t answer the phone or see anyone. Mom is annoyed by it and she complains every time." She took a sip of the wine.
"Thanks. Now tell me how sure you are of being pregnant?"
