“Are you seeing anyone else?”

Logan stares at me as if I’ve grown a second head. “No. Of course not.”

“You don’t have anyone?”

“No one.” His voice is firm and fierce, and I believe him.

I let out a relieved sigh. “Good.”

He smirks. “Were you jealous?”

I shake my head. “Just didn’t want some girl butting in to this pregnancy like she’s going to be the new stepmom.”

“Oh.”

He sounds almost disappointed. I could tell him that I am indeed jealous, but I don’t. Better leave him wondering.

I head into my office and finish up the paperwork for the waiting list before leaving.

Logan is still in his office when I leave, so I don’t worry about locking up.

When I arrive at home, the place feels empty.

My mother is still in the Alps. She’s decided to stay an extra week because the skiing is so good. Apparently, the snow is just the right kind of powdery, or that’s what she’s said over the phone.

I normally wouldn’t miss her, but with everything going on, I kind of do.

I wish I could get her advice about things. Although I have no idea how to tell her–or Dad–that I’m pregnant with Logan’s baby.

I groan and plop down on the couch.

What am I going to do?

The front gate intercom buzzes, and I bolt upright.

Who could it be? Maybe a package for Mother?

I slowly walk to the intercom and press the button.

“Depeche Floral Delivery,” a monotone voice says, and I buzz them in.

They leave the flowers, two dozen red roses, by the door, and I pick them up, staring at them.

Are these for Mother? Does she have some beau I don’t know about?

I look at the note.

To my two favorite people. - Logan.

What?

He’s sending flowers to my mother’s place, now? What if she’d been home? How would I have explained that?

I huff out a breath but put the flowers in a vase. I’ve always loved roses, and Logan knows that. I guess I can display them until she gets home, or until they die. Whichever comes first.

I feel faint and realize I haven’t eaten all day, so I order a pizza.

This baby craves cheese pizza like something crazy.