Page 166 of Push

51

He Got the Suitcase

Toby

Footsteps shuffled behind me.

I paused, lifting my head out of the pile of boxes I’d been digging through on the garage floor. I whipped a look over my shoulder. Shadows loomed up the walls, darkening every corner. The dull orange of the bulb glowing overhead barely chased the ghosts away.

I rose slowly. “Gwen?” Was she back from her night out with Marnie already? I took a cautious step, peering around the garage.

No one.

I was losing my marbles. I’d end up six feet under like my father if my brain kept inventing imaginary friends for me. I rubbed my palm over my chest.

Am I too young for a heart attack?

Some heart issues were genetic. Dad had been wiped out at only fifty-six. He was fit, healthy, and the life of every party—noone seemed to care he was a dirtbag. Maybe I was next. Had I renewed my insurance—

My phone pinged.

Unknown

You stole the life that should have been mine.

I hate you.

My pulse spiked, and a chill shuddered through me.

Nah, screw this shit.

With paranoia chasing my heels, I hightailed it out of the garage. I slammed the door shut, double-checked the lock, and raced through the house and up the stairs. I didn’t trust the baby monitor clipped to my back pocket. Sticking my head through the nursery door, I checked on Noah. That dropped my blood pressure a bit. The little dude was safe and sound, sleeping spread-eagle on his back, his tiny fists stretched out above his head.

Exhausted, I flopped into the rocking chair beside the crib, my head lolling to the side.

Maybe I’d pushed myself too hard and tried to cram too much into one day.Do Everything Fridayhad seemed like a brilliant idea when I bounced out of bed that morning. I’d made myself a long to-do list. Pruning the roses and taking a sniff of the freshly cut grass—that had been heaven. Doing the laundry and emptying the diaper pail, though? Not so much.

But lunch had made up for it. After I’d dropped by the study with a sandwich and a café coffee, Gwen had rewarded me with a steamy, almost-second-base make-out session pressed against the doorway.Almost.Her bumpy ribs beneath my thumb had been so achingly close to her gorgeous breasts.

My heart hammered in my chest. I didn’t mindthattype of adrenaline. Grinning, I rested my head against the rocking chair, closed my eyes, and let the memory tingle down to my toes. Gwen was one in a million. Smarter than smart. A force to be reckoned with.Hot. She worried about the extra curve on her hips, but I wanted to get my greedy hands on every inch…

My eyes snapped open, and I darted a guilty look at the crib. The nursery probably wasn’t the place to be indulging in X-rated thoughts.

I dug my phone out of my pocket and took another glance at my to-do list. Endless. And that was just this week. How would we keep on top of all this crap with both of us working again?

I ignored the latest message from the unknown number and tapped into the Stroller Squad group chat.

Toby

Stupid question, but how do you guys get everything done when you’re juggling a chubby bubba and you’re both working?

Eden

Outsource.

My fingers twitched on the screen. Would Zach’s wife virtually punch me in the guts if I joked about hiring Josie and Maree to play House Ladies at my place? I grimaced. Probably.

Pro tip. Thanks!

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