Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Maya hesitates a beat too long, the guilt tugging at the edges of her mouth giving her away.
“Oh my God!” I gasp. “You didn’t know! You didn’t know jack shit. You just tricked me into confessing like a total jerk!”
“Hush, not so loud,” she says. “You’ll wake Mario. And then he’ll be screaming too loud for me to tell you that I love you…and that I told the woman who called while you were in the bath all about the pregnancy and the bed rest and everything for your own good.”
“What?!” I screech, causing Mario to shift restlessly in the sling, whimpering as he rubs his face against Maya’s chest.
“It was Hunter’s mom,” Maya says, making my eyes bug even further out of my skull. “She called the land line earlier, asking for you. She figured out that Sweet Pussy Café must be your café by process of elimination and wanted to check in. She was on vacation not far from Sea Breeze and kept thinking about you…and how great you and Hunter were together. She said it felt like a sign, so she called to see how you were doing. And I told her. And she’s on her way here right now. That was her who texted. She just passed the old lighthouse and should be here any minute.”
“Shit,” I curse, my heart slamming against my ribs. “This is bad, Maya, this is so bad, you have no idea—”
“It’s not bad, it’s good! And necessary,” Maya cuts in before adding in a rush beneath her breath, “but Hunter is also with her and she said she was going to make him come talk to you right away, whether he liked it or not. So, um, sorry about that. I didn’t know he was with her until it was too late, but that’s probably for the best, too, because talking is good.”
I’m pretty sure my eyes fully evacuate my sockets at that point. Whatever’s to blame—fear, stress, migrating body parts—I go blind for a second.
By the time I’m able to focus again, Maya is halfway to the door leading down to the café.
“I’m meeting Margaret out front to give her directions to one of my parents’ empty rental cottages, where she and Hunter are going to stay while they’re here,” she says. “But I told her she could send Hunter right up. I figured he knew how to get in through the back door.”
“Maya, no,” I gasp, my throat so tight, I can barely breathe. “No, you can’t do this. I can’t see him. Not ever. I—”
“It’s going to be okay,” she says, like the stupidly optimistic person she is. “Just take a deep breath and talk it through. From what Margaret said, it sounds like he’s been as miserable without you as you’ve been without him. I’ll be back to check on you later, after I feed Mario and get him settled with the nanny.”
“I hate you,” I say, all the blood draining from my face as she opens the door.
She shoots me a sympathetic smile. “I know, but you’ll love me when this is over. I’m sure of it. Hang in there, badass. You know I’m always rooting for you.”
Biting my tongue—further debate is clearly useless—I wait until I hear her footsteps descending the stairs to the café before leveraging myself up from the chaise, ignoring the protest in my lower back.
I need to get out of here. Now.
And no, I can’t go far—ten to fifteen minutes of walking doesn’t move the needle much when you’re as pregnant as I am, and I stopped being able to fit behind the wheel of my tiny Fiat weeks ago—but I can probably make it to the pizza parlor. Ken, the owner, loves me. He’ll let me prop my feet up in a booth, have a slice, and hide until the coast is clear.
I pull my sweater on, figuring I can skip the coat and sock cap, since I’m not going far. But before I can locate my old winter boots—the only pair of shoes that aren’t small for my swollen feet—the sound of footsteps on the back stairs sends my heart into overdrive.
They’re heavy footsteps, familiar ones that I would know anywhere.
It’s too late.
He’s here.
Hunter’s here.
A beat later, the door opens, and there he is, the man I love, the one I couldn’t stop loving, no matter how hard I tried, looking even more handsome than I remember. He stands frozen in my doorway for a long moment, his inscrutable gaze locked on my stomach.
As usual, I can’t tell exactly what he’s thinking, but I can tell it isn’t good.
Not good at all.
“Surprise,” I whisper, wondering if it’s too late to lie down on the floor and play dead.
twenty-three
HUNTER
“Surprise.” Her voice is soft, uncertain, but still holds that hint of playful sarcasm, exactly the way I remember.