Page 40 of Protect Home
And I’m too afraid I’ll like it there far too much to ever leave.
I’m an independent woman. He needs to understand that just because I’m carrying his child doesn’t mean I need to be coddled. They make cell phones for a reason.
“I see,” he draws out, likely thinking through his next retort. “No worries.”
“That’s it? Just no worries? No argument or ‘we’ll see about that, Tenley’ type of comment?”
“Yep, that’s it.” He pauses. “Hey, listen, I gotta go. I’ll check back in with you later.”
“Okay…”
“Oh, and Tenley?”
“Yes?”
“Eat something other than fucking fruit.” And he hangs up.
Well, okay then.
14
TENLEY
TGIF.
That’s still a thing, right? God, am I really getting so old that I have to question if what I’m saying is relevant anymore?
One thing’s for sure—this bath feels incredible.
I’ve been doing my Zen time all wrong.
Baths are the way to go.
Tea lights are lit, and I’m ready to bask in the aroma of peppermint bath salts, setting the relaxing mood I strived for perfectly.
I tossed my hair in a messy bun, refusing to blow dry it again. Getting myself out of bed in the mornings is becoming more of a struggle than I expected, so anything to make them run smoothly is a new part of the routine.
With a heavy sigh, I lay against the bath pillow, ready to close my eyes and do everything I can to turn off my thoughts. Bury them for a while and reset before starting my day.
I know it’s not good to stress while pregnant, but I’m atightly wound knot of anxious tension. Between work, missing my parents, and now this pregnancy—I need some R&R. Right now, the closest form of that is this bath, and I intend to enjoy it.
This feels nice.I could fall asleep to the sound of running water, foaming over with bubbles and suds.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
My body jolts, searching the bathroom for an intruder. But the sound thuds again, more consistently than the last. Zion, my adorable black and white speckled frenchie, sounds like a German shepherd on steroids right now, losing her goddamn mind.
Who in the ever-loving hell would show up sounding like a platoon sergeant beating down a wall?
Whoever it is, I’m less than thrilled about their arrival. In fact, I’m gonna go tell them that.
Not caring that I’m covered in bubbles and my body is dripping with water, I hastily grab a towel from the hook and toss it around me, groaning at the loss of warmth. I storm to the front door, leaving a water trail behind me, but I don’t have it in me to care.
Without hiding my frustration, I swing the door open, only to be met by a burly man with a clipboard. “May Ihelpyou with something?” I ask, my tone snippy.
Homeboy looks scared.
“Uh.” He hesitates, taking in my appearance.
