Page 181 of Need You To Choose Me

I grab the cookie and take a tentative bite, the rich flavor exploding on my tongue and making me moan.

Shit, that’s good.

“What did I tell you? I’ve been begging Becky to add it to the menu. People will fight over them.”

“She isn’t wrong.”

“We’ll see. But enough about me; today is all about Sav and her baby.” Becky claps her hands excitedly. “You should open your presents!”

Everybody sits down with their desserts while Becky hands me bag after bag for me to open. There were picture books, diapers, toys, and clothes—so many tiny, adorable clothes—along with some stuff for me—face masks, perfume, and books, as well as one set of silky PJs.

Becky bursts into laughter when she sees it and turns to Mrs. Miller. “That’s a good one.”

“I know.” The older woman smirks. “Somebody’s gotta get her something fun around here.”

I glance at the sheer material. “More like scandalous.”

“Hey, you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. Babies don’t make themselves; you youngsters should know that better than anybody. Coach can thank me later.” Mrs. Miller wiggles her brows, and I can feel my cheeks heat, which causes more laughing. “You’ve found a good one there. He’s a good dad. A goodman.”

“He is,” I whisper softly, the corner of my mouth lifting. “Although, I’m not really sure I can take credit for that.”

I never planned on meeting Blake. He just came into my life when I least expected him and turned it upside down.

One year.

It’s been less than a year, and everything was so different than it was before.

Iwas different.

A hand lands on my shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. I look up to find Mrs. Miller watching me with a serious expression. “Are you ready?”

I rub at the swell of my stomach, feeling Munchkin move. “I hope so.”

“Your Grams would be proud.”

My eyes turn misty at the compliment. “You think so?”

Mrs. Miller huffs out a laugh and pulls me into a hug. “I know so.”

Slipping out of the truck, I go to the bed and grab as many bags as I can. Not an easy task since there were so many. I still couldn’t believe they did all of that for me.

Once people left, I offered to help Becky clean up the mess, but she just shooed me out of the café before I could even finish the question.

My gaze darts to the house across the street. My back was killing me, and all I could think about was Blake’s enormous bed, and his arms wrapped around me as I told him what just happened.

But first, I had to drop all these things at my place. Because that’s where the nursery was. Or what is going to be the nursery. If I ever got around to finishing it.

I guess in order to do that, I should spend some time at my house.

Something that was happening less and less these days because I was at Blake’s place more often than not.

Turning around, I climb to the porch and slide the bags into one hand and pull out the key to my place. Unlocking the door, I close it with my hip as I climb up the stairs.

Muffled voices coming from down the hallway have me stopping in my tracks.

What the hell?—

“Hand me a screwdriver?”

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