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“Yes.” I laughed through the tears, wiping them quickly.
He still didn’t turn around to look at me. Wolfe Keaton wasn’t much of a negotiator, but for me—he broke his rules.
“May I join you?” His voice was grave.
“You better.”
His shoulders quaked in a soft chuckle, and he finally turned around to face me.
“Go on a date with me, Mrs. Keaton? Not a gala. Not a charity event. Not an official outing. A date.”
God.
Oh, yes.
“I would love that very much.”
“Good,” he said, looking down and chuckling to himself.
I had to remind myself that this was the same cruel man from the masquerade. The one I swore to hate for the rest of my life.
He looked up, his face still tilted down, with a shy yet devastated gaze.
“Will I get lucky on that date?”
I threw myself on my pillow, covering my face with my arm, the sound of my laughter drowning the click of the door as it closed.
Two days later, we paid our first visit to my new OB-GYN.
Barbara was in her fifties with cropped blond hair, kind eyes, and thick glasses. She did an ultrasound and showed us the peanut swimming in my womb.
Its little pulse pitter-pattered like tiny bare feet down the stairs on Christmas morning.
Wolfe held my hand and stared at the screen as though we had just discovered a new planet.
We went to lunch after that. Our first public unofficial outing as a couple.
He invited me over to our house. I politely declined, explaining I made plans with Sher and Tricia from my study group.
I tried to bite down my smile when I broke the news to him. I hadn’t had friends my age ever since I moved back from Switzerland.
“Nemesis.” He arched an eyebrow when he drove me back to my house. “Next thing I know, you’ll be attending frat parties.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
Parties weren’t my scene. Besides, the ones I was used to were fancy and demanded a dress code my pregnant self wasn’t eager to follow.
Even in my first trimester, I opted for loose, comfortable attire.
“I think everyone needs to go to at least one frat party to see what all the fuss is about.”
“Would it bother you?” I asked.
I wanted to put across that he didn’t have this kind of power over me anymore.
“Not at all. Unless Angelo is your date.”
That was a fair request, which I could no longer deny it. I took out my phone from my bag and tossed it into his hands.
