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“You’re not fat. You’re pregnant.” He shook his head with a small grin. “I’ve only known you are pregnant. Lord help me when you’re not,” he said, making me blush.
“The girl that catches you will be the luckiest because you’re so sweet. You remind me of Cade.”
“That’s the greatest compliment you could give me. Is there anything you need before I go?”
“Nope, I’m good. Cade really has you trained well.” I gave him a light kiss on the cheek.
He blushed, took the bag, and went out the front door.
Phew, alone at last.
I milled about the cabin, organizing the baby gifts we’d gotten. The fast Cade finished our home, the better. All this stuff would overtake the place before we knew it.
My phone played a funky tune, and Olivia’s face flashed on it.
“Hello,” I answered.
“Hey, mama. How are you doing today?”
“So much better. You sound happy. What’re you up to?” I knew she missed Hollywood. Not sure what was wrong with that dude, but he’d totally missed out on an amazing girl.
“I’m about to head into town and wondered if you wanted to join me.”
“Sorry, Martina will be here in about…” I checked the time on my phone. “Twenty minutes. What are you going into town for?”
“I need a new pair of western boots. I gotta hot date.”
“With who?” I went into the kitchen to get me a glass of juice.
“Just some guy I met at Hotshots last week.”
“You didn’t tell me you met someone.”
“Because I didn’t know if I’d go out with him. I still have Hollywood on the brain. Figured I should distract myself with someone else.”
“Aww. I get it.” I poured orange juice into my glass, then went to put it back in the fridge.
“Hey, who’s at your place?”
“Nobody, just the workers.”
“They drive a black SUV?”
“Not that I know of.” I closed the door and turned around.
The front door opened, and he entered with a smug smile.
“Jake! Oh, God!” I screeched and dropped my device on the ground. I could hear my sister yelling my name. But I couldn’t worry about her. I reached for a knife from the block and moved toward the back door.
“Shelby, I can’t believe how you’ve changed. I have a gift for the baby.” He lifted a gift bag.
“You died.”
“Clearly not.” He waved his hand in front of himself. “When you’re a billionaire, it’s easy to fake your own death.”
“Why?” I kept moving backward with the knife in front of me.
“To draw you out, of course. So all the bikers would go back to Minnesota and life in Podunk Burntwood would settle down.” He moved toward me.
